Scary

Why is it so scary to feel good,

What is it I misunderstood,

Wave of happy we never want to stop,

Gotta remember can’t live at the top,

The low and highs are all part and partial,

Feeling happy, we just can’t marshall,

Our internal light was growing neigh,

If we can’t be happy, we just want to die,

But it’s all in the balance, I hope you can see,

Relish the light of creativity,

Enduring the lows became the normal,

Feeling the highs is feeling formal,

Denying ourselves the basic desires,

Not letting it out, just stoking the fires,

Living in rage,

No more on stage,

Life in a cage,

Seeking a sage,

Seething in rage,

Not turning the page

Found only a maze,

Looking inwards a haze,

Past memories a blaze,

My mind in a craze,

But pardon my phrase,

I speak out of phase,

Overwhelming malaise,

Felt lost in that maze,

My minotaur would enrage,

Past memories were now pyres,

Creativity re-inspires,

Life changed from uniformal,

To nearly paranormal,

Nor more passivity,

More clearly now I can see,

There is so much more behind my eye,

I can now permit myself to cry,

No longer now shall I stall,

This life to give must get it all,

I must discard my prop,

One more habit I must drop,

It is no longer misunderstood,

We are allowed to feel good.

 

 

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In Doubt

Dear lord please hear me out,

Many people are live in doubt,

I wanna scream and shout,

It’s not fair let them out,

We trusted, got dusted, some busted, maladjusted, still crusted, disgusted

Hooked on a chem, crooked rich men, free us from them, tired of waiting ’til then,

Why does humanity act like an experiment,

For rich or poor we’re all here, a testament,

Our souls are here to the show what we meant,

Sing, write, play, show, paint, vent.

Always about to boil,

Forgot why we toil,

Why must they foil,

Can’t we just live in peace,

Live our lives, love life, we’re here on lease,

Give us a break before we all cease.

 

 

 

 

 

Curses foiled again, or not

In the past week I have been personally reconciling my inner self.  Sounds weird, but I have been at odds with myself for some time.  After drudging up so many painful memories I cast myself into deep sadness, regret, and even anger.  It’s been very difficult for me cast aside the things in my life that don’t belong.  Things such as the feeling of not belonging where I am.  I have spent a lot of time just thinking and planning and not really acting.  So I have decided to take on a new hobby, candle making.  The funny part to me is that I have been a butcher, a baker, and now…you see the punchline.

Normally in my past I would have simply gone back to my routine, but I know I have to alter it just a little bit.  I first believed that I needed to shake up everything about myself and my life so that I was not so depressed all the time.  Along that path I have really started to put more effort into where I am.  Dedicating myself to my workplace, doing more activities with my family, and finding a healthier balance of my previous hobbies.  It’s been a real challenge changing internally while causing so much discord with those around me.  I hope they can all forgive me.  I am sorry for all the trouble.

No one ever said having a mid life crisis was easy.  The crisis is over, now I have to clean up my own mess.  Thanks for listening.  Until next time, peace to you and yours.

Say When

When will I be free of the chains that shackle me,

Invisible lines that keep holding me,

Back from the world I want to see,

When is it ok to be,

All the things I love in me,

When can I shake off the shroud of internal anonymity,

See myself able to be free,

The fragments of sanity in a sea of failed sobriety,

Is my world really that dreary,

Once I hear the word maybe,

Stuck in binds I can clearly see,

I put them there, you see,

These bonds I wear are part of me,

The wounds that cut so deeply,

Make me cry internally,

My battles scars are here eternally,

I have to learn it’s ok to be,

Damaged, not permanently,

Just marks with personality,

The game started prematurely,

I wasn’t ready, I tell myself sadly,

The person I was fades into obscurity,

Now it’s time, tomorrow might never be,

Can I, I ask, I guess time will see.

 

 

 

 

Dark Angel: Myndra’s Song

When I took my first college level creative writing class, there was on specific exercise we did was create a short story from just one sentence.  The sentence we were given was “Mary closed the door and placed the candle on the table”.  This is a revised version of that story.  I changed the name for personal reasons.

Myndra closed the door and placed the candle on the table.  Thunder shook her apartment building as lightning clashed across the sky.  With the power knocked out from an earlier strike, the night was darker than ever.  As she turned on her shower the droplets that rained were warm and welcoming.  After casting away her clothes, she stepped in and slid the door closed as the water embraced her.  The small candles flame cast dancing shadows around cozy bathroom walls.  She closed her eyes as she turned to face the gentle cascade of water.

 

To the young lady stumbling down the sidewalk blocks from her house, the night was cold, cruel, and unforgiving.  The rain felt like icy tendrils as they ran down her back through drenched shirt.  The thunder claps startled her, the lighting strikes blinded her, albeit temporarily.  Her arms were folded and pressed to her body to stop from shuddering, unsuccessfully.  No one could her sobs, she knew no one would care.  The moment she hit the concrete, struck by one last straw, her mind nearly gave up.  She had ignored a cracked heel on her shoe in her haste to leave a lost battle of a broken relationship.  This shattered soul let herself lay upon the cold stone and simply cry.

“Are you ok?” asked Myndra in a worried tone.  She had seen a young woman take a quick fall as she stood under the awning of her apartment building, while having a short smoke.  Strolling across the barren street she noticed the girl just laying on the cold hard sidewalk and wondered if something horrible had just happened.  Half away across she started to jog.  With a trembling hand she reach out and took a firm hold on the fallen girls shoulder.  “Hey”, was all she could get out as the seemingly dormant body shrieked and lashed at her.  Both had now been spooked past the point of reason and a short nearly harmonic set of screams cried out for a brief second.  The following moment seemed to pass as minutes when their eyes finally met.

Clouds had parted every so slightly, just enough to shine the moons rays through the storm.   Ebon hair was accented with stands made silver from moonbeams.  The eyes she was staring into had created a respite from this night’s grief filled torment.  She reach up and her hand was met by a soft, strong grip.  She allowed herself to be helped up. “You’re drenched and shivering, come up to my room and dry off” came a voice that was soothing.  A weak nod of her head was all she could muster.

The pair walked back across the empty road, the pouring rain had deterred most travelers on this soon to be auspicious night.  Myndra placed a comforting arm around the slender shoulders of her new found companion.  The notion of consolation seemed to be welcomed by this trepid soul.  She picked up her candle from just inside the doors of her building.  Lighting it had been a slight challenge, but her persistence and not completely soaked lighter finally ignited the already charred wick.  Myndra led the way up a single flight of stairs, easily navigated by candlelight.  She was grateful not to be one of the poor sods on the sixth floor.

“My names Kayla, by the way” her voice was nearly horse from the agitation of this evenings events.  “I appreciate your kindness”.

“I’m Myndra, nice to meet you” was her reply to the first words uttered by this beautiful dove who now stood in her dark home.

Kayla gazed around the small apartment seeing a pattern of black and white photos and posters, who’s contrast was only altered by a single pair of light pink ballet shoes hanging on a pillar between a tiny kitchen and humbly furnished living room.  Several candles cast dancing shadows.  She sighed, taking in breath and exhaling heavily, letting the new scenery placate her previously frantic thoughts.  All she could do was smile slightly.  She sat down on the futon, as requested.  Looking up, she was relieved to see Myndra’s gaze meet her own again, reassuring and consoling.  Her host was tall and lithe, long dark hair hung low and straight from the rain.  She was reminded of Morticia Addams, her smile widened just a bit more at the thought. (to be continued)

 

Back to School

Today was a bitter sweet day

The children return to school to play

Summer is our time to shine, wish it would stay

But life must move forward can’t remain that way

Some parents relish this time, for me is causes dismay

I give myself to the evenings, my mornings are gray

Why speak in poetry, I ask myself, to convey

The exercise is good, a different way to parlay

I change the tempo and scheme, even the delay

But keep moving forward, try and cast away

The troubled time my mind brings, so they can’t out weigh

I ask myself lately, what do I do, to keep in the fray

Fight the good fight, be a good person, a good father everyday

My soul has scars, my heart is heavy, I just want to lay

Sleep, no more sadness and pain, I know it’s cliche

But I will not falter, only stumble along, make way

I kinda like my scar now, all the miles on my highway

To we celebrated my wife’s birthday

She deserves much more than I can purvey

Happiness is my the gift I choose to spray

The next poem will I write I’ll have to sway

I hope my next round won’t be so passe

All the pieces

Not sure they’ll all fit

So many parts, so little space

Fragmented self, needed a hit

Wasn’t sure I could keep pace

A mental knock on the noggin, a little wit

Mix with music and family, she’s truly my ace

Do I leave out the parts that make me want to quit

Keep them I say, they keep me in my place

A place I belong, the place I commit

A state of mind so far from this race

The rats almost won, I felt so unfit

I hated so many memories, lost color in my face

Almost thought I was gone, a few steps from split

I write my story, place it in a showcase

So that other won’t feel counterfeit

Our stories only differ in the details, our human race

But we’re all the same, you have to admit

Your pain is my pain, I would embrace

Any person who felt the need to submit

We stand united, the wounded who feel disgrace

Pick your head up with mine, this is it

Don’t relent to the coup de grace

You’re not alone in all this shit

The moral of the story is not common place

We need to heal depression, lickety split

 

 

 

American Lie

DSCF0313This is gonna be a weird one, a simple parody using Don McLean’s American Pie song as the skeletal framework.

A long long time ago, I can still remember how the music used to make you cry

and you knew if you had once chance, you would stop the people’s dance, and make them believe they where happy for a while

The rap music made you shiver, with every curse word they delivered

Bad news on your door step; we cannot take one more step.

I can remember all the times I cried, when  I read about those blatant lies

But something touched me deep inside, the day the music cried

so bye bye, this American Lie, drive your Chevy round the country ’til the your gas tank runs dry,

Them good ole boys who said you should stay inside, singing that will be the day when you die.

That will be the day that you die.

You click on Facebook things you love, it could be a face upon a glove,

If the media tells you so.

Don’t listen to those frikken trolls, this product saves your immoral soul,

and we sell pills to “make you grow”,

Cause I know that you’re in love with thin, and don’t want to be in a gym

Just kick off your shoes, and take these pills of blue,

You’re a lonely teen feeling out of touch, just take these pills they’re a pick-me-up,

But then we all ran out of luck, the day we allowed them to lie.

Now for some singing,

Bye Bye this America Lie, drive your Chevy ’round the country till the gas tank runs dry,

Them good ole boys are banking that you will die, and singing “this will be the day no one cried”

This will be the day no one cried.

Now for some years we’ve been on our own,

the cats grew fat on your kidney stone,

But that’s not how it’s ‘Sposed to be,

When the jester became the king of mean,

raised the price of his product really obscene,

and a voice that came from Dre and ‘Sky

While The People were feeling down,

they gave us pills to steal that frown,

Our minds started to burn,

Our faith’s been overturned,

and while we learn about the Starks,

the music’s tryin to start a spark

and they spout rhymes to make us arc,

They rap so we can cry.

Even more singing,

bye bye, this American Lie, drive your Chevy ’round the country ’til the gas tank runs dry,

Them good ole’ boys know now that we will not die,

singing “This Won’t be the day that we die”

This won’t be the day that we die.

They made us zombies like horror shamblers,

no cure in sight only brain scramblers,

Eight Mile was a good movie, a blast!

They’ve killed criminals with gas,

even unborn babies don’t get a pass,

feels like we’re next and I think it’s ass.

I think for some it’s now high noon,

Our voices will been heard soon.

This will be our stance,

Oh, this time, there’s a chance,

They will try and make us yield,

But it’s our time on this field,

The world will know what’s been reveal,

The day, we stop these lies.

Yet again sining,

Bye bye, this American Lie, drive your Chevy ’round the country ’till the gas tank runs dry.

Them good ole boys will be the ones who will cry,

singing “This will be the day no one died”

This will be the day no one died.

Oh, and there we were all in one place, a generation lost in space with no time left to start again (this line transcends itself from song to song)

So come on: lets get nimble, must help the sick!

You gave us drugs that broke us, dick

Soon you will be out of friends.

Oh, and as you watch Trump on the stage, your hands all clenched in fists of rage

He was not born in hell, wake up from the spell,

Now that you can see it is time to fight to stop sacrificing our health for pyrite,

We’ll all be laughing with delight,

The day they were allowed to cry.

Jeez more singing,

Bye Bye, this American Lie, the price is to heavy and we don’t want to die.

You good ole boys take a bow swallow your pride.

singing “this will be the day Pharma died”

This will be the day Pharma died.

We ALL have so many blues

we’re ready for some happy news

this time no one turns away.

Now listen to your favorite score,

hear their songs like never before,

No one should tell you what you can play,

Start taking walks, let your smile beam

Watch lovers smile, and share your dream

Where they are spoken,

or rapped or sung while tokin’

You’ll find who you admire most,

Maybe father, son, or the holy ghost,

This is your shot, not a hoax,

The day, you let lies die.

one last time singing,

Bye Bye, this American Lie, no more bullshit claims, even when we drive by.

So good ole boys now it’s time to let fly,

The poisons that made us all blind

The poisons that made us all blind.

Bye Bye, this American Lie, we have suffered long enough and now it’s time so say Bye.

them good ole boys cashing in now should fry,

but we’re not them, it’s time to rest.  bye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Turn

I like commercial television.  I feel like it’s my turn to say “in my generation”.  Commercials reminded us what season it was, gave us new ideas of things to experience like concerts and theatre shows, and of course all the things we needed to buy at the places we loved to go, like Target, J.C. Penny, and Blockbuster.

I feel like, for me, we’re being pulled towards these tiny glowing screens.  The internet is full of brutal truth and blatant lies.  It seems like commercial TV uses a forgotten concept called ethics.  News casters would simply tell you what was happening in your area, around your state, and then around the world.  They did it with dignity and integrity.  They may have dirty stories to tell, but they use implied meaning instead of exposing everyone to gore or horrible reality.  Social media has no such reigns.  Lies and 1/2 truth stories can go viral in days leaving people to believe a falsehood without doing their own research.

On the other hand, it shows us real bruised knuckles and broken people.  Videos without remorse or consent.  Real live you never thought you could see in the Midwest USA.  Depravity and reality mixed.  It has shown so many people that they can live and whoever they want.  The only bounds are self implied.  Everyone can enjoy anything they like, without public ridicule.  They are then free to share that with like minded people around their web.  Free to meet and relate to similar souls.  Setting them free in ways they could never imagine.

My point?  Enjoy some commercial TV and take in a few new experiences.  Don’t believe anything you read on the internet until you fully research the topic.  Just today a close friend posted a fear mongering campaign against a non well researched topic.  It will lead people to believe only a fraction of the truth, mixed with lies and fear.

daily grind

Being back to the grind has really made me challenge my creative side.  When I started my journey just a few months ago my only goal was to leave the current situation I was in.  I wanted to changes jobs, cities, and even be separated from my family for a short time.  What I really think I wanted was a complete internal change.  The only thing holding me back was myself.  I had repainted my life’s mural into only shades of blue and gray.  I had convinced myself that it was my external life that was broken.  The only thing that had been broken was my internal self.  The depression and OCD had become my whole self.  All the while trusting in the Pharmaceutical business to be out for the well being of it’s recipients.  When in fact they are only out for profit.  Anti depressants that make you want to die.  Pain killers that make you addicted to them.  Cures with more horrible side effects than the current malady you have.  It was only nature ways that helped me get to where I am now, which is far from healed, but much farther along the right road.

Some how along the way I become my own worst enemy.  I think there are many people who kind of feel the same way.  Why would there be an entire industry based on curing mental illnesses that only help exacerbate our troubles?  All of our scars are the same depth to one another.  My worst pain is no greater than your worst pain.  They are both of equal in magnitude.  Keep that in mind the next time you feel too low, you are not alone down there, we’re all here for you.  Even without contact the empathy is felt to anyone who feels that down and out.  We don’t know each others names, only each others pains.  The world is listening.  Until next time, peace to you and yours.