Thursday, October 20, 2016

A Tribute to the Abused

Tonight I cried for the past
My scars were reopened
The pain seized me fast

Though no blood ever escaped
from my wide open wounds
I felt my body drenched in stain
And my soul darkened too

The pain I had thought
I left all behind
Was raping my heart once
Again in the night

I fought so very hard
To push It away
To move on to greener fields
And embrace the light of day

Though I felt safe in the arms
of the rays of the sun
The familiarity of the dark
kept Beckoning me come.

And this is the part
that I hate most of all
That I craved to be back
in that awful black hole

Though it forcefully invaded
The depths of my heart,  
Tore open my safety
And broke me apart.

Though it robbed me of my Innocence
And left me naked on the floor.
I'll never understand why
I keep coming back for more.

For some stupid reason
That only God knows why
I keep opening these scars
To inevitably cry.

I hunger and thirst
To feel worthless as I did
To be perfectly damaged
Used merchandise; no good.

And so tonight
I let the past shadows consume me
Their dark arms
I let them enclose me.

And though at first I felt relief
To finally let go
The agony quickly captured me
With endless tears that did follow

Tonight, my dear friends,
In short I lost a battle.
I guess I had been
Just a little too fragile

My fight was all over
I couldn't hold on
And to my dismay

The darkness had won.


What does it mean to have faith?

Is it just a word we use on Sunday when the preacher sets us aside?
Is it just an act for people around us so no one is exposed to our true feelings?
Or is it something more?
Can a person believe in something, feel something, hope for something that isn't there?
When faced by the jaws of reason can you block out the dark and see a light that doesn't exist?
Or does it?
Faith is such a wishy washy word.
Or at least the thing we have faith in is always unsure.
So why is it so desirable to have faith when statistics almost entirely prove you wrong?
It seems that human nature grasps the rope of uncertainty in hopes that the pain and horror of life is not all.
It seems that human nature craves a deeper meaning, a higher being, a celestial state to strive for and to strive to be.
Is it better to hold to to that invisible rope that leads to an unknown world beyond who we are?
Or is it better to face and accept the numbers and the science presented on earth?
Is it better to succom to the popular opinion or hope for a better solution?
Do people ever really have faith or is there always a certain nagging in the back of the mind reminding them that the odds are not in their favor?


Where are the answers?


My Butt is Freezing Cold

The sun is bright

the sky is blue

the pond is wet

and my butt is cold.

Yeah, maybe the ducks are cool

but all I hear is squaking

slashing up a silent morning.

Yeah the leaves are fun

and crunchable

but all I see are dead tree's.

Mornings are not meant for pretty poems.

They're meant for sleep.

I waited an hour with a freezing butt

all for a bright glare in my face

and still a freezing butt.

Maybe I'm just not feeling it today.

Or maybe I just suck at writing.

Either way

a pretty poem

is not what you'll find on this blog today.

All you get is some pessimistic words

on what should have been beautiful

and a few complaints on how my butt is freezing cold.

What is Love?

I fell hard last night.
I fell into a mind and body paralysis. 

Heart racing.

Skin tingling.





All because of a kiss.

Was that love?

I felt jealousy once.

Blood boiling.

Mind racing.

Door slamming.

Tear inevitability.


Sharp pain.



Was that love?

I've experienced fear.

Fear of losing.

Fear of leaving.

Fear of staying.

Fear of hurting.

Fear of being alone.

Fear of choosing wrong.

Fear of feeling.

Fear of loving.

Was that love?

I've felt joy.



Judgment free.






Is that love?

 I've spent time with excitement.


Childish games.

Energy rushes.





Wild dreams.


In the moment moments.
Is that love?

Are my feelings only child's play? Are they note worthy, or should I disregard them? 

They're strong.

They're real.

But are they LOVE?

If not then...

What is love?

Being Human is Having Writers Block

Being human is having writers block.
When you want to write, your brain doesn't.
All those beautiful quotes you once read,
All those times something meaningful occurred in your life,
All the love, hate, pain, joy and every intensive feeling you've ever felt
Suddenly is locked away in a safe, fifty floors down from the creative team of your mind.
All processing units have shut down, the lights are out,

no one knows where the key is to this safe,

and all the while the boss is yelling at each employee

trying to find out which idiot

decided to lock up the only memories and beautiful inspirations

that make up what this body lives and works for.

Trying with every ounce of effort to scrounge up any words worth repeating,

any thought or picture with at least a fraction of sentiment.

Papers are flying,

all the neuro cell employee's are bouncing off of each other in a panicked frenzy,

hoping that the big boss doesn't decide they're worthless;

never to give them a job again.

The brain is a mess, and you feel it.

It hurts.

All because whatever you are trying to say is on FREAKING LOCK DOWN.
Being human is having writers block.


Well don't ask me. I'm having writers block.

Today I Woke Up Loving You

Today, I woke up to the smell of your shirt dancing in my mind,
to the sound of your voice tickling my ears,
to your breath warming my veins,
to your touch,
your caress,
your hands in mine.

I woke up to the realization that I had left my heart in your pocket.
Your eyes
masters of persuasion,
allured me into your embrace
and I don't think I ever left.

I woke up to the painful sores on my shoulder that your burning tears had left.
Your trembling lips still trembling on mine.
Your words written on my skin "Don't go"
I never meant to hurt you.
I never meant to hurt you.

I woke up to the once confusing feelings 
even more perplexing than before.
My intentions were to make things right.
My desire was to love you enough to sacrifice.
But now I have woken up to a rope tied around my waist.
It's connected to your waist, you know.

I woke up to the ever growing appetite to laugh with my best friend,
To feel that strange connection as our words fill holes in life's massive puzzle,
To enjoy the silent energy of sitting side by side.

I woke up to a fairy tale coming true,
And I shouted to the world, "Walt Disney had it right!"
My prince was real and a prince he was, 
A prince of the kingdom of my love.

I woke up to a promise.
a promise to always stand beside you,
and to sit next to you,
and to lie forever in your arms.


My heart,
My life,
My everything,

Today, I woke up loving you.


I have the power. 

It lies in the palm of my hands.

It may be small and seemingly harmless.

But it's not.

It is large and mighty in it's abilities.

With it in my hands, I can alter your life's destiny, I can stop your clock.

With it in my hands, I can inflict pain, I can torture, I can destroy.

I decide what needs to be done.

I decide the end result.

You may beg.

You may compromise.

But I decide.

Is it right or is it wrong to take away your only life?

Am I justified?

There are no voices, no guidance.

I decide if I am right.

Should I wait for assurance of my coming actions or is my duty due now?

Be quick, be sure.

I decide the hour.

The price is large either way.

I cannot leave without a scar.

It's you or me.

It's them or you.

It's time or dignity.

Rarely do both accompany the end.

It's so easy yet so hard.

The simple pressure of my finger seals the deal.

The racing thoughts and feelings of my mind prolongs the kill.

I am either the grim reaper, the Hades, the Yama or the Prometheus, the Vishnu, the Savior of your life.

I have the power to kill you.

Whether or not I deserve it,

Whether or not I have sufficient knowledge,

Whether or not I have sufficient mercy and justice.

I have the power to kill you.

I have the power to not kill you.

I have the power.

And it lies in the palm of my hands.

How to be Happy

  • Take a walk every day. You need the fresh air and the time alone whether you know it or not.
  • Notice the little things. Don't get so caught up in the red, yellow, and blue that you never see the turquoise, magenta, and the olive.
  • Be honest. Be honest with others and with yourself. A lie will never get you anywhere but stuck in the mud. The kind of mud you don't easily get out of.
  • Play with children. They know the basic meaning of life that you have forgotten among the details of a busy schedule. 
  • Be creative. School will stimulate the left side of your brain very well but that's only half of your brain. Make sure you are stimulating the right side of your brain as much as you can.
  • Enjoy being with people. When their gone you'll miss them.
  • Enjoy being alone. When you're not you'll miss it.
  • Become a good listener. Value the opinions of others even when you don't agree. 
  • Show your love for others in all the different ways you can. Verbalize your love, give up your time, give gifts, provide services, and love through physical touch.
  • Keep good posture. You'll thank yourself for it in the long run. 
  • Go out in the storm and enjoy the rain. Don't let disasters ruin your fun.
  • Stay clean. You'll make more friends that way.
  • Take a sick day. Sometimes being tough is realizing when you need a break.
  • Take lots of pictures. Your life is important and it deserves to be remembered.
  • Live in the moment. As a wise turtle once said "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but to day is a gift; that's why we call it the present."
  • Prepare for the future. Whether you like it or not it comes and you better be ready for it.
  • Love yourself. Might as well! You'll never live a day without you so it might be better to enjoy it rather than hate it.
  • Smile. It's simple but true; if you smile you'll find yourself brightening both your life and others.
  • Live. Don't survive. Live.