Hope eludes her. Night embraces her. Like an old friend, it takes her by the hand to search for the light. Illusive. Dawn becomes the deadline for this decision, the last one she will make.
ink-shadows seduce
the sun rises unnoticed
over faded flower
A quadrille haibun for dVerse Poets Pub
image credit: pixabay.com
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255
Enclosed I am
Airless, breathless
Must confess to senseless
Gasping, panting,
Mindless ranting
One… two….breathe
I can’t control
The heart rush
Too much
Tightening, fear frenzy
Heightening
I can’t breathe
Just breathe
I’m boxed in, locked in
With no escape
Now I hyperventilate
In response to De’s Quadrille prompt at dVerse Poets Pub. Join in with us at 3 p.m. EST. Write a 44 word poem that must include the word “box”.
It is a privilege
To be part of this village
Paving the pathways
Breaking the patterns
Sowing the seeds
Eye contact, warmth of heart
Neurons ready for take off
Strange how for some
It takes science to prove
That love builds brains
Today for Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub, 3 p.m EST
We take a closer look at Ally Saunders, an artist from British Columbia, Canada. Through an interview, Ally shared with me more about herself and her life as an artist. She has kindly allowed us to use her work to stir our muse!
Join us!
Then we are the heartless
His eyes, cimmerian pools
Conscious waters we dare not tread
His words, rendered null and void
And so he holds the sign
Of failure, defined
As if guilty of existence
Beaten by this steel wool system
Of surface scratchers
Mirrored and jagged
Buffing them up
To send them back out
Dead people live on this street
Like the gray of pigeons, pecking
For rations of sweet sanity
Between dagger eyes
And swift kicks
Tears siphoned back from the edge
Hold more truth than sorrow
Tiny little diamonds
Of the highest clarity
Squinting, scanning for prospects
The sun exposes his lines
A tally of tragedies
His glance, as empty as pockets
Races past the la-de-da
Seeking one heart, unbiased
One heart that drops the dollar
Without assuming it’s next exchange
And as it free falls to the pavement
He struggles to remember
How it felt to not be treated
Like a modern day leper
Sharing this with dVerse ~ Open Link Night
Image credit: pixabay.com
Standing on red rock ledge
Edge
Pondering his life
Strife
Reaching for the chain
Pain
Deep in his pocket
Dropped it
Sun catches gold
Behold
Random flashbacks tumble
Fumble
Flipping like days
Haze
Slipping away faster
Disaster
Gone
Gone
~
Vultures on thermals
Primal
If I had to choose one gift to give
To every single child
I’d walk, I’d run to find each one
And sit down by their sideMy rocking chair would hold them all
My heart would stretch for miles
My arms would wrap around their pain
To find one tiny smileWe’d sail away on twinkle stars
From darkness to the light
The senseless hate this world creates
Would weaken from our flightA million salty tears, we’d send
To peaceful skies above
If I had to choose one gift to give
The gift I’d choose is love
Thank you for your gifts
Your shenanigans, charades
The epitome of a smile
Bigger than anyone’s
A brilliant mind
You so generously shared
With boundless energy
To make one thing happen
Laughter
We’re not laughing now
Conceiving your pain
Repeating your name
Retracing your fame
Brilliant minds are not safe
From the storm
Or the rain
We will take this joy
You so kindly gave us
Carry gently, your heart
And dance
In the sparkles of your eyes
~
“But only in their dreams can men be truly free. ‘Twas always thus, and always thus will be.”
~Robin Williams as John Keaton- ‘Dead Poets Society’~
Image: Wikipedia
Her storm gathered strength
Brewing between head and heart
Her mind, a flywheel of thoughts
Spinning relentlessly
Energy wasted on the rain
And the flash floods of her life
~
She could feel her sun beating
Teasing her reckless thunder
Warming the zephyrs of her past
Taming the tempest
She surrendered to the blue sky
And gathered her fallen branches
~
At Dverse Poet’s Pub, Claudia challenged us to use bold images and metaphors to create a strong visual impression in our work.
Love is nestled deep
In the hearts of the most humble
They are the lost
The forsaken we only speak of
As if this makes us care
Our thoughts, only echos
Bouncing off their dreams
Small change, petty offerings
Pools of pity at their feet
This is not love
Love hides
In sweaty, weathered lines
Of stories untold to us
Because we did not ask
In warm, filthy hands
Held above the fire
Love lies under blankets
Praying to the light
Curled up, messed up
Teardrops, trembling
Love waits patiently
In faded faces, beaten
By stronger hands
And evil minds
Love speaks gently
Or not at all
Cryptic, mute
Silenced by storms
That rage in brains
Unrecognized
Until it’s too late
And love is out the door
On the street
It’s you and me
But we don’t see
Our beds are warm
But we are cold while
Love is nestled deep
In the hearts of the most humble
~~~~
~~~~
This poem is my way of expressing concern for a better understanding of homelessness in our society.
I am inspired by others who have dedicated much more of their time to directly reach out with acts of generosity, moments of kindness, friendship and most of all…conversation. It is this respect that sets an example for others. If the majority of us do no not speak to those on the street, then thank God there are people like Dennis Cardiff , Kaze Gadway who do…..on a regular basis.
In addition to his blog “Gotta Find a Home”, Dennis has recently published ” Gotta Find a Home- Conversations with Street People” which documents his conversations with the homeless as he visits and interacts with them without judgement. You can find a digital version at Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook, Apple iTunes and Flipkart. Print versions are available at Amazon. “All profits will be used to support the Ottawa Innercity Missions, Street Outreach Program and those people forced onto the streets.”
Kaze Gadway blogs at “KazeStories” sharing her experiences as she spends time with the homeless, offering them water and blankets and talking with them. I admire her willingness to become involved by not only acknowledging them, but by listening to their stories, offering hope, comfort and helpful ideas if only to get through the day. Her compassion is put into action on the streets of Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Please take the time to check out both of their blogs.
Photograph: Courtesy of Steve Huff from a collection called “My Homeless Project”.
His candid shots portray the hardships of life on the streets of Phoenix, AZ . Steve took the time to speak to homeless men and women during his daily walks to learn of the real life events and situations that lead to homelessness. In exchange they allowed him to take their photographs.
This is where the sun shines
In lower ground
On weeds and weary souls
We’ve all but given up on
Beacons of hope
Brilliantly borrowed from
Selfish fools unable to
See the light
This is where the sun shines
On shattered hearts
Wide open to receive
The greatest gold of all
“Solace is neither here nor there. You can find it in a quiet corner or a walk through the forest. No window or door can separate you from the beating of your own heart. You only need to listen.”
~mishunderstood~
“The best moments are not filled, they are felt.
They have a life of their own.
Sit back and take one in.”
Dflorack of Heron There & Everywhere nominated me for a Best Moment Award.
This is my very belated acceptance! Thank you, Donna!
If you take the time to visit her blog, you will discover her love for friendly little critters as well as musings on life and memoirs of the past.
http://heronthereeverywhere.us/
This award requires you to state seven things about yourself, so here goes…
1. I have just added para-sailing to my bucket list!
2. I am not a good conversationalist with new people, unless the topic is an issue I feel strongly about… then I might not shut up.
3. It frustrates me when parents feed their children inappropriate media and then wonder why they become so disrespectful, aggressive, violent or insensitive.
4. I believe we were put on this earth to help those in need, not to sit back and reap our own benefits.
5. My complicated personality takes me from serene places of nature to head banging to Metallica.
6. I love to see the sparkle in a child’s eyes. It lights up my world.
7. I am happiest when I am singing at the top of my lungs, driving down the highway.
Let’s change this up a bit. Seven is a lucky number so I have decided to nominate seven bloggers that have given me
a
BEST MOMENT!
http://brokenlightcollective.wordpress.com/
It is inspiring to me to see stigmas broken surrounding mental health issues. This wonderful site provides many moments of sharing knowledge, hope and understanding through the art of photography.
http://bernasvibethewayiseeit.wordpress.com/
She can relate to entering the “50” zone and her generous comments have given me moments of laughter and camaraderie.
Today she provided me with a moment of beauty as I admired her breathtaking photos of horses.
http://kaynicolley.wordpress.com/
She gave me a moment of her reality. It is a reality that so many suffer from. Please give her some love and encouragement.
http://melissammendoza7.wordpress.com/
Working in a shelter in Sante Fe, New Mexico, this woman has her share of dark moments but has the ability to see the light within their souls. I look forward to following her new blog.
http://barefootandmusic.wordpress.com/
I absolutely love Beth Hart. I could listen to her music every day. While doing a search today for her video, “Leave the Light On”, I stumbled upon this blog. There are great musical moments to be found here.
http://littlesundog.wordpress.com/
Unique moments including those she has spent raising an orphaned fawn on their property.
The past can resurface
Creep into your disbelieving mind
Because now you see it differently
The validity of discontent
How much you truly suffered
And how far you have come
Now you see
The pain as a separate entity
An unwelcome foe from long ago
Knocking on your mind
Rattling your fortress of serenity
Trying to find a way in
The past can return
Play with your peace of mind
Because it never really goes away
It is yours to subdue and restrain
Yours to push back into the darkness
Far from your precious light
Now you see
Under the light that you have kindled
With broken sticks and broken dreams
How easily walls can fall down
Leaving you vulnerable once more
Exposing your scars
The past can sweep you away
Determined to turn you to dust
Shoving you back in the pile
Of degraded debris and dismay
Now you see
How easy it was to crumble
Because words alone can crush you to pieces
And it’s hard to get up
When you are a tiny particle
Of the past
Stone heart, you never knew
Faultless you were in realization
Clarification, inspiration
It’s how you grew
Bleak start, without the love
Basics were all they thought you needed
Stimulation, validation
Only words heard of
Fall apart, is all you do
Methodical daze of disintegration
Inflammations, resignations
That’s what you knew
Beaten by your own recall
Pictures lie in presentation
Allegations, provocations
I believe it all
Repeat, rewind, reverse the reel
Trapped in a time of condemnation
Deprivation, hibernation
Unable to feel.
YOU ARE FORGIVEN
I have never been afraid of flying thousands of feet above the earth in an aircraft of any kind. I am not afraid of heights. I do not carefully check out the passengers for potential terrorists. It doesn’t cross my mind that we may hit a large bird in mid flight and spiral nose first into the ground. Nah.
I am claustrophobic. The worst part for me is when we are boarding and I am waiting patiently anxiously for the plane to move. It hits me again after we have landed and the plane is taxiing on the runway.This phobia has been real for as long as I can remember but has only intensified in the last couple years.
My doctor suggested lorazepam. She said it was a great medication for this particular issue. When I hesitated, she reminded me that the one place I would not want to have a full out panic attack would be on a flight. I had to agree since I have already had visions of myself hyperventilating, rushing to the nearest exit door and hurling it into the sky, only to stick my head out for air. Needless to say, the rest of the passengers would soon follow me out with a massive vacuum like force. That would be visual number one. Number two would involve security, possibly some duct tape and a detour landing somewhere like Wichita, Kansas.
So I said yes to lorazepam, the lesser evil.
During my lifetime, I have never required any type of major medication. I was very skeptical, not wanting to use anything that was mind altering on my highly valued coconut for fear it would shred it into pieces. Besides the possible side effects, my main concern was that it was going to manipulate the “me” of who I am, if that makes any sense. If it takes away my fear of being in a confined place, then it is changing my mind. It is convincing me somehow that what I feel is not real. Now, that is a trip and the only trip I wanted to take was to Albuquerque, New Mexico.
As I waited by Gate A25 to board, I meticulously timed the taking of my magic pill so that it’s full effects would be in action before I stepped foot into that skinny “tube”. I was leery to take the whole pill, so I broke it in half.(I am the type of person that feels stoned the next morning after taking cough syrup.) Boarding the plane about a half hour later seemed easier than normal. Hmmm….I didn’t feel the grip of doom suffocating me as I entered the capsule. I took my seat by the window. Yes I know, you would think that I would want an aisle seat. ‘Claustrophobics’ want the aisle seats. Not me. If I am near a window, I can imagine myself OUTSIDE. Outside is good. That is where you want to be when you feel closed in. Makes sense, right?
After getting situated, seat belt on, electronic devices turned off, purse under the seat, etc. , I looked out my beloved window. Then I looked around the airplane. By now, the lovely lorazepam must have been working because my brain seemed to have another entity.
The conversation in my head went something like this….
I should be panicking right now.
You are not panicked.
But that is how I am supposed to feel. I don’t like being in small spaces. I hate airplanes.
That’s some cool information, dude, but sorry…..not feeling it.
But who are you to tell me that I am not afraid. I’m supposed to hate this.
I am your lorazepam brain. I rule at this moment.
I feel controlled by you.
You are.
I hate you.
No you don’t. You just think you do. Relax.
Ok, then I am going to pretend like you’re not here and I never was claustrophobic…and
…and
…oh wow….look at those clouds.
Thank you, Lorazepam.
mishunderstood 