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

 

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My Thorns, My Gift

 thirteenbrains

I watch with envy
the flowers around me
they sway so freely
they seem so happy
so full of life
colorful and bright
but no not me
I have the devils horns on me
these thorns restrict me
no one picks me
no one seems to want me
they leave me out
saying I’m different
saying I seem so uptight
my mother tells me
I’m just not right
she told me to see my thorns
in a different light
how lucky
she says
you are
to have thorns
while all the flowers
seem so free
they are in major
danger
they seem happy
but it’s a lie
they are colorful and bright
but they have nothing inside
you have it all
for you have the ultimate gift
you have your thorns
which protect you
through the darkness of night
and the evilness in life
they will help you win
every fight
and you will get through
everything you face
just do what’s right
and hold onto your thorns
tight
and you will soon see
the light

Copyright © 2010 taking off the mask 

The Trail – Memories

“He was still too young to know that the heart’s memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the 
burden of the past.” 
 

Blown by the breeze of your passing
Branches sweep the evidence of you away
Spinning dirty tornadic wisps bare false witness
Evidence of our union, gone down a dusty way

I wander past the forks of choices gone wrong
Seeing pieces of your love hanging on the thorns
Finding you though you hide among shapeless brush
Setting my heart to the trail, I am endlessly torn