I like to write for no apparent reason. Someone recently told me no one cares what you write or where you write it; however... It works for me so I will continue anyway. Often times my brain is on over drive and just the act of slowing down my thoughts to the sad speed of my...
I walk through the ruins dodging the refuse
It is strangely quiet here
Part of me loves the solitude
The other part of me misses the chaos
and the life I left behind
Walking thru the ruins
a wrecked car
a broken door
mattresses on sale
lost boys jumping off...
I was in the blue circle with a few other students surrounding my first grade teacher as she explained the "reading code" - the secret to everything. I sat on the edge of the bed listening to my mother read with my sister. She was struggling and I got up and read the passage. I...
Falling off the bridge into the foam,Cascading up and down for months,Never completely immersed,Though it looks as if I jumpedI know an accident sent me to the edge of the bridgeOnce there staring down into foamand clear spots that showed my reflectionIt has been hard to see...
"You should go home and sleep. He will never remember you were here.," the nurse said to me."He needs me here now," I told her, "Now is all we may have and I don't plan to waste it sleeping."It had been a hellish two weeks of testing and monitoring. At that moment my son was tied...
...everyone else is already taken." Oscar Wilde
It is a high challenge only a precious few have afforded me. The people who have touched my heart the most have been encouragers of self. I find it difficult, and others often think it disingenuous when I mention that; but I...
“If you are a dreamer come inIf you are a dreamer a wisher a liarA hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyerIf you're a pretender com sit by my fireFor we have some flax golden tales to spinCome in!Come in!”- Shel Silverstein
Not the flooding...
not the glow of the sunset or the "stars on thars"...
could not take away who she really was
the one who joyed in the blessings others called failure
the one who knew her own imperfection was part of the plan
for only a reflection can show the...
Safe deep inside she stirs
somehow knowing the space has gotten too small
She works away at the encasement which
used to provide safety but now threatens to suffocate her.
She breaks off pieces that she wonders
if she should be trying to save,
She savors each new...
like being sick.
A curmudgeon doesn't like other people saying it is up to you I will come see you if you want me to.
A curmudgeon wants to be left alone in their own sickness happily commiserating under their own garbage lid like Oscar himself.
If you aren't brave enough to...
helping or allowing an opportunity for harm
thoughts laced with pain and doubt,
and only two paths to choose from
both of which land in a field of pain
She sits alone under the stars
wings too heavy to fly away
She stared into
The line of trees across the lake
Then up into the blue sky overhead
The clouds reminded her of friends
As they sat under the trees that were no more
Vines crawled up and down - covering the remains
Shadows danced across the lake
Thoughts flowing free
I run through the days
Happy to be free of the obligation to fix it
Sunshine, wind, or gusting rain
Life is easier and lighter
Driving, swimming, moseying...
Forward I go
Into the undiscovered
"I haven't seen you in awhile."
"I have been out on leave for three months"
"How have you been?"
"Up, Down & All Around"
"I wondered where you were"
"I apologize I don't remember you...
I was reading an old post by Jimmyrudyjump, a confession really, about Time and it got me to thinking about time. I have serious issues with time both as a definer of schedule and as a hard reality in the movement of life. I have found time isnt just the movement of the hands...
So much work left behind
So much I built up now declined
This "healing" it feels like dying
Dying I would not resist so much
This reconfiguration of thought and vision
It feels like everything is crammed together
All feeling and thought only to be ******** off
Recently I have been struggling with a spiritual issue more openly again - being stuck between a spiritual rock and a hard place one could say. The place I can't get past with God himself. It is arrogant I know, but it is also true. The day I dreamt of my angel over ten years...
do you remind how much I need?
Why do you mock my attempts at oneness?
I do not want to need anyone else
I would die quick alone in the elements
I know we live on the foundation of others
I know the quilt of society
is woven in the cradle and
denied at the burst of the...
There are offerings I have been given by those with whom I have shared love
and some gifts I gave away which have been returned
still I hold my hand open- no longer to grasp or let go
There are other people's gifts they refused to notice and left behind
I have been here in the fog and mist on the bridge for months waiting for my chance to move on. I am starting to see some light peeking through the thick fog. The other day I saw what seemed to be a door open on one end and then a rift opened on the other side the next day. Why...
Bridges are not the only way to get past a body of water. So if you are a bridge burner keep in mind there are swimmers, rafts, boats, & airplanes. Sometimes a person just waving from the other side can still be seen through the smoke.
In the midst on the bridge I sit
my feet dangling over the frothy edge
somewhere - everywhere there are boxes to open
and grief and forgiveness to be dealt with
Somehow a bottle looks more attractive
I sit alone after decades staring at that bottle
all I want is the foam...
and my past met my today
yesterday was more gracious to the possibilities
than the posturing possibilities
were to the builder
The "in between" hovered threatening to steal the Now
But Now pressed in with mountain pose
and the heart rose to meet the sky
as stretch and release...
What is "real"? Perhaps what we see and do, and who we are is a merely our limited perspective of what is the true solid reality. I take medication so I will not have hallucinations - so I will not see what is not there. It takes away from my ability to sense what is really...
I always wondered what I should rename my biography after LemonySnickett stole my original title: "A Series of Unfortunate Events"I think I have decided on Life after Chocolate Cake. This would give mylife layers that could be broken up into Chapters - Such as:Life before...
the pavement pounds under her feet as she walks throughthe light dancing around her... pink - orange - greenlooking up - the blue shifts back and forth to green amd then whitethinking of walls and floors... cars and tablespeople who have walked through and driven awaythe...
Today is my birthfather's birthday. I will go visit his grave - where I know he isn't - and leave flowers I know he would prefer I didn't. He was an incredible man. He was an artist, an advertising agent by trade, and a great father. He loved to dance and read. He loved Dr Seuss...
Two hands meet on a door handle,Students gather to rally in a town square, A mother drops her daughter off at camp,A girl walks up the bus steps and into your life,The eyes of two souls meet across a crowded room,
A young women posts a cry for help on a question board,
When everything is spinning around meand all my strongholds are bending or breaking...I wonder:What's This Life For - Creed Hurray for a childThat makes it throughIf there's any wayBecause the answer lies in youThey're laid to restBefore they've known just what to doTheir souls...
Yesterday, I realized I could sit in my apartment all day sulking or I could get out and live. I would have preferred to stay in; however, my son had a doctor's appointment. I lost my thoughts in some music on the drive to the doctor. However, when I turned the corner...
I know I haven’t been on EP regularly in quite some time but such is life as it is. I hold a special place in my heart for each of you I have met here in EP. I am grateful that EP was here when I needed this sanctuary in my life. I hope you all travel well through your...
Waking to the gentle voice of my grandsonkind words from friends, far and nearHot coffee and surprisingly gentle warm December breezeold music and older terms of endearmentbeautiful art and precious moments of restcounting my blessingson a lazy Sunday Morning
Done staring at the foam,
Done pouring my poison,
Done believing grief is ever over,
Done arguing with ones I will always love,
I am ready to dive off the bridge
and swim again,
If I sink to the bottom
I will drop my...
I find myself inspired to write it all down. But I won't... I would never do that. You know why? Because I have... I have restraint and the ability to act as if....
One of the most valuable gifts and greatest hurdles a survivor can have is to be able to act as if nothing...