Doors – A Haiku.

They speak truth when they tell you:

“Closing will open.”…

…in regard to Life’s hallway.

Swan Dive.

I do not completely, and in every way fear you –

Not in the way that he threw a curse upon me to;

I still get warmed up by that appeal, so real and true;

A truth he failed to forever ruin with shades of black and blue.

I’m not so afraid of you – that I have no tendencies, no intrigue;

My body yearns for good sex to magically collide with me;

My brain gradually accepts and digests my life’s reality;

It’s a string of unknown variables: somehow bound to my own destiny.

What I find in a mirror – won’t let my brain truly perceive;

Along with so many pieces of my own history,

I’m a toddler again without a reason to believe;

My environment feels so profoundly abstract and obscene.

The good and the bad – patches of skin: paisley and plaid;

I spent so many tear drops that I now wish I still had;

To cry over the stabs at my womb and the kicks to my head –

There will be time to be held “hostage” when I’m dead.

Unrealistic, sadistic, chauvinistic lovers –

Sociopathic in the street and Pornographic in the covers

But then again, my position in the dark-lit corner;

Not really caring if you do or do not choose to stroll over –

I survived the same ways as anyone else alive;

I can only convey the things that my spirit and soul imply;

I have accepted the truth and jumped over the side;

welcoming the Unknown through a perfected swan dive.

Propinquity.

It is all born
of a unique fact
the long-gone act
of the way we tie
closely together
through space and time;
the closeness defined
stronger than steel
your back against mine;
knowledge of Life
given to us by;
the archaically blessed
and most ancient of divine;
passed along down
a dried-out bloodline;
the circumstance
concocted like potion
of happenstance;
that tickling, vague notion
rolling and bending
like the tides in the ocean;
but never broken
beneath such crushing mass
a written word –
not anything spoken;
the act of
being based upon;
a kindred spiritual root
that grows deep and ever-long;
they tried to bury
something so incredibly strong
a truth they’ve kept in secrecy
and in the midst
of their stupidity,
the feebleness makes them forget
a scary variant
the element
of our propinquity.

Min Ven.

night horse

A Toast
from one dead soldier,
to another –
cheers
from one dawning sun,
to the moonlight –
let’s get fucked up tonight;
this life’s been hard,
hard as fuck to survive,
skål
let the tears fall,
my friend –
we’ve been
through it all;
fighting back to back,
through the fires
of living Hell…
seën
to all of our times alive,
to our many defeated
victories stacked up high;
velsigne dig
a key that we found
in the enemy’s pocket,
a while back –
we both knew what it unlocked,
and so it was tossed
into a well as we passed;
min ven:
Moenie bang wees nie,
this too, shall pass us by –
like the many storms weathered
between you and I,
you will keep walking,
right here at my side,
and I shall abide.

day horse

Half-Bred Beast.

Through the vastness,
of Human eternity,
scatter all roads,
ever taken by me,
the archaic line,
of woven patches,
sewn intricately,
into man-made time,
indefinitely;
Never in so long,
did I ever meet,
another earthly creature,
one part: Woman,
and, one part: Beast,
muscular-skeletal control,
over walking legs,
that naturally,
upright stand,
very deeply,
mindful,
steeped by,
self-control:
this creature…
‘Sam I am’;
Try traveling again,
without,
the face,
of this friend,
try carrying on,
as if it’s:
all just fine again,
nothing between,
the hearts,
of just me,
and, specifically –
this companion,
has ever been,
happy at the end;
Indemnified,
for she and I,
there’s no limit,
to the blue,
that ever-paints the sky,
no limit to the shading,
of green streaks,
spreading far and wide,
my friend, it’s true:
shooting stars,
are just the glue,
that keeps the twinkle,
alive to our eyes.

Awakening Giants.

A rhythmic, rainy day
Live Oaks swaying;
of wind-blown,
dark-tarnished
antique cutlery,
spoons hung from forks
to a sun-porch –
by disintegrating
fishing string;
the fog clings
a smoldering fire’s
taunting smile;
a veil of mystery
suspending
everything for miles;
thunder rolls –
the molasses-slow
awakening
the Giants
from the Isles;
It’s a well-planned
last stand, tea party,
we priestesses sit,
card-tabled by
light mahogany –
a séance to the dead
and a curse for the living.

Memaphor.

 

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

I shouted into the pitched darkness, somehow expectant of an answer from its emptied core. The lack of response was killing me; I had been having this one-sided yelling match for the entire night long, to no avail. The low rumbling of thunder began then, and my heart-rate quickened at the sound of its tumbling crashes getting louder – the ground beneath me rumbling ever-so-slightly from its force.
It’s then that my thoughts begin to pirate my mind in rapid succession:
Systematically, I think about the last time that this happened, about the brain-blindingly loud thunder and the chaotically destructive lightning; about the unworldly things that my body was forced to endure during the last storm like this one; I think about the endless possibilities of damages that the impending storm might bring with its wrath; I think about death…I wish for death, a quicker one than the one I am currently playing out.
My mind regains its control over the rest of me just then; and I sit up and wipe my face to regain some composure. I am jolted awake with realization. I scream again with the dwindling wind left in my stinging lungs, affecting a strip of sandpaper ripping itself upwards from my belly’s darkest depths.

“I don’t need to stay here!”

I become infused by adrenaline throughout my bloodstream and serotonin pumping through my glands as I holler the defiant statement into the blackness beyond me – surrounding me – enveloping me;

“I don’t have to do this again…I won’t let you do this anymore!”

I spring to my broken feet in spite of the searing pain shooting up each ankle through my shin bones, lower jaw jutting out in sheer bullheadedness; I have chosen. I am so high off of my own rebellion that I fail to notice the momentum growing in the rumbling and cracking of thunderous bolts around me in the darkened space. At that instant, I can feel the warfare in my esophagus, its bile-like foam rising in my tightened throat; its taste instantly sets off an alarm in my brain and my mind gets weakened by the surprise – I fall.
The cracks of forceful, thunderous power bite at my face and body like wet sheets twisted into vines to whip me to a miserable death. The bellowing rolls of strength and control wash over the entirety of the scene with noise so deafening, that I am no longer able to tell up from down – dark from light; the pain brought about through these forces is felt through and through…standing every nerve on its end, leaving a pain-infused retinal image singed into the insides of my eyelids. I do not want to open my eyes ever again after that point, as I know that HE has returned to hurt me. I wait like a wounded hunter’s prize in the silent darkness, straining to hear it. It’s a voice that is so terrifying to my betrayed, blood-filled ears, that its dripping teeth are nearly tangible to me through the void around me, it says:

“Do you not by now realize, fragile one, that you hold no power here?”

My heart sinks lowly at the sound of HIS voice; its affected terror on me perseveres blindly past my strongest points. I crumble, too weakened by shame and defeat to cry, even. A huge hand, large enough to scoop up my entire body, picks me up into its bloodied palm and begins to squeeze me so tightly that I watch my own eyeballs turn red from the inside.

simple_beauty_by_velvetredbullet-d3cqn4d

Adrift (For the Bear Trainer).

This is a piece written for my VERY BEST FRIEND ON THE PLANET (and beyond), The Bear Trainer.

…S, you are the entire village that it takes to raise the child – and I honor and cherish you more than you know. ❤

Letting-go21

It’s the incessant babbling,
Of a perpetually invisible stream,
This I do most certainly know,
There is no halting or stopping its flow;
Even when I can’t touch its noise,
It isn’t like I have any choice,
I feel its presence trickling,
I feel its coolness prickling;
A sense of a long, lost something,
A dense and heavy whispering,
I can count the nights and days easily,
To try to measure what I’m so missing;
I can carve notches like lines into trees,
But there’s no accounting your importance to me,
Have you any idea of the weight you carry?
an influence that trumps all, subconsciously?
Near or far – here you are…
to awaken these things that sleep,
I need your heart attached to mine,
if I’m to somehow believe;
the Heavens are darkened by the distance between,
the truth is the anchor that’s unwavering,
the tides wash off the filth of humanity,
when all’s said and done, I have only this one thing;
the notion that resides in the depths of my being,
the unspoken truths attached to our destinies,
when the Universe again – fails to reassure me,
yours is the comfort that mine will find eventually.

Now.

I’ve been going to bed earlier and waking up later…I have somehow allowed myself to detach again…I couldn’t tell you how such a thing is even possible, considering everything that has happened and likely continues to happen in the world from which I have detached…but I have, and it is.
My feelings are not hurting now, not in the slightest; my senses are as far from sharpened or honed as is humanly possible; my thoughts are grey and soggy; my heartbeat exists quietly in the background noise of everything; my memories seemingly evaporating with slow certainty.
But I’ve been here before, it’s not some recovery set out at the edge of the woods; it’s not the end or the beginning of anything else; it’s just how I get through the unbelievable, it’s how I bear the unbearable, and it’s the only thing I know how to embrace without fear anymore.

All My Dirt.

I am randomly typpling (type babbling), yes, I know this… my personal Microsoft Word screen seriously could fuck me with all the secrets and truths it has seen at my hand, fuck it though…transparency is the new thing isn’t it?

I have given up my appearance altogether, I suppose…couldn’t tell you when the last time I looked in a mirror at myself…hmmmm…the possible causes behind this fact aren’t lost on me, either…
Something is happening inside of me again; although I couldn’t possibly describe any of what those “somethings” may actually be in the big picture of things; and I am not trying to find any way to describe it – there’s just a slew of mental data on upload at present; and my mental data down-link seems to be broken, too. There’s just a fuck-ton of shit coming in, and nothing moving aside to make room for it; if that even makes sense to anyone reading this.

Failure:
Failure is something has come to define my every moment of each passing day for me; it began slowly when Boo was put into “residential treatment” almost a decade ago and only snowballed from that point on. The many things that have subsequently gone horribly awry since then have accumulated into a vast and freezing cold tomb; each instance of my own perceived failings stacking up against the previous until the room shrinks. Failure has been something that I struggle with regularly, and I often lose the fight with it because of its overwhelming and constant presence. I go to a psychiatrist based on this failure (and its many facets and faces); he repeatedly instructs me to “just let it go”…
Abandonment:
Abandonment is another key element that is deeply embedded in my marred psychological profile; this element is born of my inability to “just let it go” when it came to my inter-personal relationships with parents during infancy and childhood (most notably a then ever-absent mother). It has mutated the human being that I was born as into a different version of who I might have been in a “healthy and/or intact family setting”; over time, it has warped my perception of others who I feel any closeness to – a mechanism of the emotionally fearful and unstable. I am extremely insecure inter-personally, and it only becomes an exacerbated symptom when I give two shits about the other person involved. I am afraid of people in general; not in a physically cowed way though…I am terrified of interacting with others because of the emotional traumas that inevitably attach themselves to each and every experience with closeness to another human being (or the socially mutated versions of one).

Truth:
Truth is another crucial piece of who I am from one moment to the next; it has come to burn in my veins like molten lava these days, and growing increasingly more important to every nano-thought in my head. Acceptance of truth is part of this element; and as painful as this aspect often is for me, in my own experiences, the truth carries weight that is undeniably addictive to my heart, spirit and mind somehow…
Perhaps after all, “the truth shall set me free”.

Sewn Into Skin.

Before you,
there was him;
And before him,
had been them,
a handful of men,
not one forgotten;
Yet, I recall little,
of any of them;
How to begin?
It’s intuition,
something within,
a hidden system,
obsolete and broken.
Little details win,
words said then,
I recall them,
unforgotten,
unforgiven,
sewn into skin.

Horizon.

Again,
My friends…
The evening ends…

Take off
The masks
That help us pretend…

It’s true…
We are…
No closer to them…

Let go…
Of hopes…
Of our salvation. ..

Accept…
The truth…
In all that I am…

Again…
My friends…
Do not let them win…

Stand tall…
Don’t fall…
Keep faith unbroken…

Shrink not…
In strength…
The knot will strengthen. ..

Be wise…
See far…
Past the horizon…

Again…
My friends…
The skirmish begins

Un-Pleasantries.

I could not have known; how could I have known?
that I’d be buried alive and fallen steadfastly asleep,
the oxygen was low, dwindling…
the dirt had filled most of my mouth and both nostrils completely,
this happened within what I then approximated to have been:
about a half an hour,
in spite of my conscious efforts to avoid such un-pleasantries;
but, there I was…
underground, and worse yet,
late for the third scheduled appointment with Death;
and once again,
I will not be able to keep the appointment…
he will NOT be pleased.

Half-Bred Beast.

Through the vastness,
of Human eternity,
scatter all roads,
ever taken by me,
the archaic line,
of woven patches,
sewn intricately,
into man-made time,
indefinitely;
Never in so long,
did I ever meet,
another earthly creature,
one part: Woman,
and, one part: Beast,
muscular-skeletal control,
over walking legs,
that naturally,
upright stand,
very deeply,
mindful,
steeped by,
self-control:
this creature…
‘Sam I am’;
Try traveling again,
without,
the face,
of this friend,
try carrying on,
as if it’s:
all just fine again,
nothing between,
the hearts,
of just me,
and, specifically –
this companion,
has ever been,
happy at the end;
Indemnified,
for she and I,
there’s no limit,
to the blue,
that ever-paints the sky,
no limit to the shading,
of green streaks,
spreading far and wide,
my friend, it’s true:
shooting stars,
are just the glue,
that keeps the twinkle,
alive to our eyes.

Delivered.

I had been complaining about how long it has taken her package to arrive via snail mail just the other day; it had been just about one month…she made the comment that it was okay, that I’d see…the mail would arrive at just the right time – when we were each more in need of the said packages than we knew. As usual, she is right.
Today is Mother’s Day in the U.S.
I have a rough day on Mother’s Day every year because…well, for obvious reasons…
I opened her mail this morning amidst the sadness that I typically wake up to on Mother’s Day…and it made me smile and reminded me of important things that aren’t always so easy to recall during the rough patches in my life: to breathe…inhale and exhale…and everything else falls in line somewhere.
Throughout my lifetime thus far, I have seen many movies and read endless storybooks detailing friendships that seem to be able to surpass the confines of space and time; even life and death through the invisible bonds associated; I never fully comprehended such subject matter until now, more recently in my own life.
There are, indeed, some friendships – bonds – ties – sutures – webs, which are so intricately wound throughout the human elements of the Universe, that even those bound inside the weave do not fully appreciate the depths and heights made available through such cosmic humanity. Those of us who are woven into this fabric know the power and strength to which I refer; those who do not know, can only believe.