There are nights
Bright with purpose
Skies infinite voids dotted with a rage of long dead infernos
The soft crisp air dreams of you dancing as if in melody to the hum of the city
The hush of the world as it slowed and waited
A pause between inhalation
Drunk on the heady spice of a path unfolding
A future without limits
Nights found after the club
Before the cab ride back to your place
Moments in transition where the universe itself is unsure of what’s next
It’s not that these moments happen less
It’s that we aren’t there for them
As the world wears away
And we find ourselves asleep in the middle of splendor
Month: March 2020
Waiting for the door to open, having lost the desire to go through
I’ve talked about big things
Past things
Love things
I’ve talked about social things
Emotional things
Psychological things
I’ve talked about the inner workings of my soul
About music
About poets
I’ve written erotica
One off spy stories
I’ve turned a one off erotica story into a fool blown series with characters and plot
I’ve written, performed, recorded, and edited a serial novelization told in 3 voices and perspectives which span numerous hours and which took an hour of editing per 5 minutes of audio.
Then I did that 2 more times
But now I’m having trouble finding words
But really it’s finding time
Time to sit and be without worry weighing me down
Without concern for finances which never consumed me before
I’ve been lucky enough to have a place to land
I’ve been lucky enough to have freedom enough to be able to write
Even though that’s not how I make money
I dislike having lost that
But I’ve traveled the road of preservation of past instead of future
And that is always filled with painful regrets
Paths cut before completion
It’s like there is a membrane where before was a open door
Writing still exists on the other side
Just now it’s an effort filled with stress and struggle to get there
Maybe it’s lack of sleep
Or maybe living unsettled like this is always a shatter away from failure
The thinner the margin the harder the fall
And at some point the fall seems inevitable
Share this:
Pause….Just be
To find beauty in the heart of the storm
Surrounded by destruction and
Endings
Find stillness
Silence inside
Slow breathing
Feel the pulse
Blood moving through veins
Slower
And slower
Close your eyes
Feel the rage of the storm
Feel the terrible fury
Now open your eyes
Look upon the storm
See the faint thread of endings
Feel the pulse of life
Find where destruction ends
See the point at which ends begin
Now
Breathe deeply
And feel
Connected to the faint sliver moment
The pause in the pulse
Where ends shiver in waiting
To begin again
Share this:
Life masquerading as poetry
Sometimes nothing you do is enough
Sometimes it’s all too much
And something falls through the cracks
Then all you can do is try to correct it and try not to make the same mistakes
And if your error effects others, own up to the mistake
Share this:
A lifetime of coping skills
I forget the hells I’ve been through working through trauma
I forget them having lived with them daily
Having worn down paths I my soul
Having found bolt holes in those paths which could short-circuit a memory
Or provide a moments respite
I can see the moments of trauma and the pain is distant
Not disassociated
Just distant
What forgiveness of self
What justice
What clarity feel like at the end of a long road
But those bastions of safety
Those places and thoughtforms
Which gave solace
Those places of peace I hollowed out
Lay forgotten
But I’ve begun to revisit them
And realize that they provide safety from the daily trauma of being alive
Refuge for the broken
A realization that healed doesn’t mean mended
That acting as if the trauma was the only reason for pain has inflicted more trauma
If only by tiny increments
Now I sit, in my bastion, not alone
Not alone anymore
But still
Free to feel pain
Even if everything is better
Pelgris 