Tuesday, July 5, 2016


When to wander back to that keyboard?
Back to that maroon/gray slate
A place to lay words in offering
To glean cleanliness and hope without strings?

Hope- a word, a feeling, a notion
A wish to be granted when belief is strong.

An outlook, a measure, a dedicated service
A place to call home when the heart is at rest.
Hope. A dream. A whisper
A cloud without intention...
Or is that hope at all?

Does hope plot its course when times are tight?
When days are tough and skin tears in secret places,
Tears as we attempt to cope with loss.
What is loss? A reality? A rhythm?
A tortured possession?

Maybe, just maybe- a filter is preferred
A filter to safeguard against loss when the strings are snipped.
And the disorientation of panic evolves.
Anxiousness rivals hope and oh-
What a powerful fucking opponent it is.

Anxiety wears razor-clad gloves
Slicing away at mere mention of its name.
Red, grown more red, to stain the fists with a brightness-
So bright and dedicated to the relentless ability
...of robbing without rights.

Who bore such a tool into this world-
So grand and mighty in its reign?
Doubt. Envy. Cynicism,
All gathering to cruelly rip and rape apart,
The heart's simple contentedness.

That simple contentedness is at risk
When the racing heart is on the prowl.

Fuck that sensitivity that gives into
The Beast of Poisoned thoughts.
That cold-cocking brute that takes with teeth.
Leaving gums, jaw and eyes
Bruised and blurry.

There is an earthquake in my chest
Ripping at veins and fucking all my retrofit.
Beating the fuck out of my resilience,
Care, empathy and calm.

There is gunpowder in my head,
Lying about for the next fuse-

To. Blow. My. Peace. To. Shit.


I must wax and wane this havoc
This chaos- burning at the ready.
There is much we are accustomed to-
Much we are abused by, and much we can do
To play accomplice to our weakness.

Today, I say, "Fuck this weakness"
Travel ahead to cleaner waters and
Enlist the stout muscle that has held this planet of 'Me'
Together, for 43 strong years.

Kick the doubt. Kick the envy.
Cut off the venom-spewing snake that chokes me.
Fuck this weakness. This incessant decay and rot.
Fuck it off and move forward.
Into the night of potential, hope and light.

No comments:

Post a Comment