Oh, How I Cry
Posted on August 26, 2013 by MuseWriter
Oh, how I long to cry
To shed these tears as memories, to ignore the pain seen;
Felt from afar
How many families suffer?
Innocents, children in pain?
Can we pretend that we’re still hungry
and feed each other
blissful responses so as to push one step
closer to the unfamiliarity;
Of how peaceful humanity can be?
Oh, how I long to cry
One tear lost for each fallen soul
Those silently attacked while sleeping in their homes
Laying in their beds, dreaming up the stories that the
Collective consciousness strives to see
Are we so cold?
Oh, how I long to cry
We are the same you and I
Hearts struggling to see the good;
To see the love that they try to hide
This isn’t a battle against one and two
Nor an epidemic of hatred
Are we so eager to be told what to think?
Are we really so blind?
Oh, how I long to cry
Even worlds apart the devastation is clear
A time is coming, there’s no room for fear or
fighting over distractions of mercy
Would you show mercy?
Is there anybody listening?
To those screaming out, wailing cries
To satisfy the wicked planning;
Oh, how I cry.
I am grateful for every second of life. ❤
Stomach Flu
Posted on August 23, 2013 by MuseWriter
Legs straddling the porcelain
One hand back, pulling up sweaty strands in a tight fist
The other, lost in the confusion of the movement
Body shaking, collapsing, suffocating
A putrid stench opens eyes to another wave of volatile cleansing
The bathroom floor has never felt so private
Deliriously making way back to bed
To dream of the reality of the moment
Until feet understand the urgency of the next second before
Eyes open
Another dance into submission
I am grateful for Jess. ❤
Foreshadows
Posted on August 23, 2013 by MuseWriter
Take a stab in the dark
To see which holes bleed
To see how long before I start silently screaming
wheezing out all of the damages done
Those perceivable wounds that ooze a contemptuous red hue of thick liquid
that slowly caresses skin
before falling down
Escaping body, rejected from the living
Breathing, suffocating from the metallic smell
hauntingly drifting into each nostril
to inhale one’s self
Foreshadowing what’s to come?
I am grateful for change. ❤
I’ve Always Been a Spider
Posted on August 22, 2013 by MuseWriter
Weaving the web in my head
Tying and twisting all of the knots, the
suspicions forming their shapes
and the confusions of everyone
as they stare into the transparent work of art
glistening in the sun
I guess I’ve always been a spider
Announcing to the world that even the definable delicate are strong.
I am grateful for sunny afternoon walks. ❤
Doubt
Posted on August 21, 2013 by MuseWriter
The first stage of doubt:
Being forced to recognize the limitations
Of time and distance
A one hour flight to travel into the depths of mind;
Second guessing position of desire
And what you want
The incessant rain keeps my feet wet, creating
Dirty tracks that lay out the roadmap of the steps carefully placed and manipulated
Just like want and desire?
Knowing the pain to grow stronger with each layer of question, confusion
I sometimes wonder if there’s any strength available for purchase
The expanse between your world and mine is great
I don’t know if I’m capable of ignoring the empty space surrounding
Even though I crave it, I can’t stand being alone
Or, the forgotten thoughts of those who claim ownership
I am grateful for every thought. ❤
Paths
Posted on August 20, 2013 by MuseWriter
How many paths must we cross,
Must we stumble through;
Guessing which part of the fork is best positioned for the tastiest bite?
To chew on the destination of thoughts that enable blood to pump and flow
Parallel to the bordered trail like a stream;
A continuous reminder of water and the other elements one person needs to survive
Removing the requirements of life and focusing on all that is surrendered
To a compartmentalized pandora’s box
Categorizing important cargo in a wooden reminder of vulnerability
Dried salmon candle wax puddled on the cracked surface
Staining the purity of all that embraces my mind
I am grateful for friendly neighbors. ❤
Cupid’s Enlightenment
Posted on August 18, 2013 by MuseWriter
Skinny fingers grasp the threaded line
Pulling back the thin fragments with a practiced hand
Eyes focused, not on object of manipulation but within the two figures out of reach;
The one and the two of the mission
The Amor, as he’s called, marks each piece of the puzzle with his target;
The cross point to aim so as not to confuse the scattered faces and bodies
Humming a familiar lullaby tune
Another mindless act to balance the shot
Calculating wind and distance, counting down breaths until the perfect moment
Two arrows let loose from his single bow
A skillful act of original tradesmanship of the god of love, son of Venus
Forgetting his resentment to his indifference, he contemplates what will happen to his latest victims
Unusually curious enough to sit upon his gargoyle perch to see the story unfold
Imagining his sport as a work of art and reflecting on the murals dedicated to his masterpieces of past
As an excited child he waits, watches as one lover finds another
Two hearts beating to the similar thoughts projected from their maker’s intense stare
Mystified, he trembles, he questions mortality and the gift of happiness
Longing to understand the passion of pain brought about by the penetration of his pointy arrowhead;
Staking claim as the narrator of their story
The reality of his genius keeps his heart beating
Even without the possibility of ever surrendering to his own magic.
I am grateful for Cupid’s art. ❤