Blur –

 “Our time together was a blur—not because I was drunk, which I was, but because our love was like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings.
”
Jarod Kintz, My love can only occupy one person at a time
wikipedia
Bodies finding their way back to earth,
goaded on by the great Shepard age.
Flocks of words begging to forgive,
left wandering amidst endless space.
Loving souls are cracked forever,
scars litter the way to this.
History is written with permanence,
by blue flames this ink will fade.
You can’t see the endless stars,
with blinding tears in your eyes.
With a short goodbye they blur,
The beauty missed carried on by one.
First Published in Opinions Of Eye

Briars –

“If you don’t feel the pointed things in life, you’ll soon take the soft ones for granted.”
John Everson, Cage of Bones & Other Deadly Obsessions
gitsandshiggles1
Pushing through these thorny opinions and games which
like spinning through the clouds that have lost their
curved softness and have gained a razors edge with every
boiling motion of agitation.
Haunted by my mind and it’s incessant gathering of
these long stemmed painful abrasions seeping with
the sweet sap of noxious compliments all meant to
disarm and take advantage.
Lasting harm is at a strong disadvantage given
the scars and foreknowledge of a paranoid state
for what is plainly seen is scarcely real or continuous
except in my unseen world.

 

First Published in Opinionsofeye.com

 

Love is a Tyrant

The following is an article by a talented writer, SZU. ” Love’s not a tyrant; lovers are; My heart’s a proof-with its shining scars.” Enjoy.

Recently an active exchange of poetic responses began between a friend and I. He wrote this beautiful one and sent it my way…and that’s how it began


When storms have raged and passed away
Can gentle calm succeed?
I sleep to ease a troubled mind
Sleep is the friend
that I need…
With these few words I speak my mind
You in this, a quest will find
My quest is clear…seek it out
Love is a tyrant…when in doubt

I got an instant inspiration; and i wrote down the following words in response:

This storm is here for eternity,
N
o trace of calmness can I see…
No sleep, no rest can soothe my mind
No friend can bring me glee…
This unending quest kills me everyday,
I can’t reach where I want to be…
This doubt can be tyrant I know,
Still this love shall be a part of me…

We appreciated each other’s work and then obviously forgot about it. And just today when I was having my lunch; I got another set of couplets from him in response to what I wrote a week back:

Your storm once raged and passed away,
And the gentle calm did succeed
You slept and eased a troubled mind
Yet now sleep is the friend I need
In those few words you spoke your mind…
…and yet I was so lost, dumb and blind…
Your love’s still a tyrant, there’s no doubt
I’m lost and confused; my soul wants out…

So I just decided to post all the three poems on my blog. But as i am typing here; I can sense the birth of yet another response to his (above written)poem…here it goes..

Why live in the memories of that storm?
That was
a reality once…but now its gone…
And why depend on a gentle calm?
And why not make your wounds, you
r balm?
Sleep- if dreams are where you belong…
Sleep – if that fake world makes you strong!
Don’t be lost,
because they won’t find you
Don’t think much
because those thoughts might blind you…
Love’s not tyrant; lovers are;
My heart’s a proof – with its shining scars.

Also published in Broowaha 
Also published in Opinionsofeye.com

09242014

Nature of the Beast

“I think that if the beast who sleeps in man could be held down by threats of any kind, whether of jail or retribution, then the highest emblem of humanity would be the lion tamer, not the prophet who sacrificed himself.”Boris Pasternak 

frenchtwist

I stared into the abyss, long and hard, and became the evil. The evil, this is what draws me, so unspeakable the acts, the players, yet, so alluring. Why? I pulled my thoughts back, and not quick enough, for long writhing things, slimy with lies and deceit, slapped me down.  Lying there, head bowed and sweat stinging my eyes, I knew my visage had changed. It allowed me to crawl away, but in my soul I bear the young scars of the beast. I am tainted, bruised without recovery, and bear the purple and yellow-green signature of one bold, yet foolish enough, to stare the beast down. These scars validate me to fight in the battle of the mind. Long will be the nights, prayers for the morning vehemently spoken. Calling out a challenge, the fight came to me. Why did I challenge it? I did it for those I meet at every moon rise, those hurt and trapped. I did it to free them, to know their battle. How can I help unless I too know the ways of the beast. Ways that disappear with light, yet remain within. Ways that never forgive you for your violation of fear.  My fellow soldier, I offer you my assistance, let’s fight this evil together. Cast your lot with me, I bear the scars, I have walked in your shoes. This will end but we must persist until the rising of the moon, the rays of light will mark our path away from the edge. It is the nature of the beast to kill and maim, it is the nature of those bold in life to bear those injuries and yell, “WE WILL NOT FEAR!”

Related Post: The Fall

Nature of the Beast

“I think that if the beast who sleeps in man could be held down by threats of any kind, whether of jail or retribution, then the highest emblem of humanity would be the lion tamer, not the prophet who sacrificed himself.”Boris Pasternak 

frenchtwist

I stared into the abyss, long and hard, and became the evil. The evil, this is what draws me, so unspeakable the acts, the players, yet, so alluring. Why? I pulled my thoughts back, and not quick enough, for long writhing things, slimy with lies and deceit, slapped me down.  Lying there, head bowed and sweat stinging my eyes, I knew my visage had changed. It allowed me to crawl away, but in my soul I bear the young scars of the beast. I am tainted, bruised without recovery, and bear the purple and yellow-green signature of one bold, yet foolish enough, to stare the beast down. These scars validate me to fight in the battle of the mind. Long will be the nights, prayers for the morning vehemently spoken. Calling out a challenge, the fight came to me. Why did I challenge it? I did it for those I meet at every moon rise, those hurt and trapped. I did it to free them, to know their battle. How can I help unless I too know the ways of the beast. Ways that disappear with light, yet remain within. Ways that never forgive you for your violation of fear.  My fellow soldier, I offer you my assistance, let’s fight this evil together. Cast your lot with me, I bear the scars, I have walked in your shoes. This will end but we must persist until the rising of the moon, the rays of light will mark our path away from the edge. It is the nature of the beast to kill and maim, it is the nature of those bold in life to bear those injuries and yell, “WE WILL NOT FEAR!”

Related Post: The Fall

Empty Victory – PTSD

“Often it isn’t the initiating trauma that creates seemingly insurmountable pain, but the lack of support after.”
S. Kelley Harrell, Gift of the Dreamtime – Reader’s Companion 
philwicklund
Bend beneath and swerve around
All my troubles utter one great sound
Pulling the tapestry of life apart
Never in silence until I depart
Standing firm under a heavy break
Looking over the edge, a fall to take
Final swings in battles won
Left to victories empty sun
Laying all down in a sleepless bed
Battle scars never leave my head

Empty Victory – PTSD

“Often it isn’t the initiating trauma that creates seemingly insurmountable pain, but the lack of support after.”
S. Kelley Harrell, Gift of the Dreamtime – Reader’s Companion 
philwicklund
Bend beneath and swerve around
All my troubles utter one great sound
Pulling the tapestry of life apart
Never in silence until I depart
Standing firm under a heavy break
Looking over the edge, a fall to take
Final swings in battles won
Left to victories empty sun
Laying all down in a sleepless bed
Battle scars never leave my head