Nearing fire

Ophelia_by_EarthDefectShe was not a hunter

She did not compete

There were no hands on the tinder clocks, rebinding feats.

When it rained, she stayed dry

Her hearth and rug, small morsels of comfort clutched

For not venturing out, salved potential for harm.

She grew up on the black hard bread of fear

Of the river breaking its banks and drowning

Those she loved

It was an inherited sense of loss

Passed down through heavy curtains, generations of individuals, feeling cast off

All the instability of fine china, balancing, teetering, turning to shattered lotuses.

She saw what happened when they lied and said she was safe

She could feel the pink welts, smell the violation, as it poured down the road, a torrent of what humanity can do

To a child.

She grew scars as self armor

Moved further to the fireplace to touch the source of its continual scald

When it stormed outside she didn’t join the rushing tide

The pinches, taunts, jostling, glut on perpetual war

Plasma and soldiers, drunk on devouring dear goodness

She stayed listening to the sound of the rasping wind

Beating on the old oak door

As if everything possible came together and fought

To get inside.

She stayed set apart from her given trajectory, a kite who cut her wings

Turning to liquid and back into wax, only to melt, nearing fire

They say fear is an echo, set the trap, watch it snap back

Until, submerged there’s no end, but the point you began, to let it rule.

She watched fear remove, her skin, her sight, and blind with fright, she consumed her own shadow

Till it was the only place to return, and burning into reduction she saw the reflection of someone with nothing to lose.

Expunging soot from her stained lungs, she let herself pass through the cloak of heat, demolishing every trace

Rising from emptiness, becoming ash in air and last dancer of ember, she saw

Hands spin trees into forests, reclaiming what was lost, in hungering inferno.

A girl who closed the door and checked beneath the bed, was gone

In her place the outline of a cowering form, afraid, yet, stepping from

The thin ledge we believe protects us from imagined harm

When all along we torment ourselves with far greater, considered terrors

Better that we face head on, destroy facade, turn to rubble and rebuild

Our resolution for survival, as we will always near, fire.

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It is in horror, we see truth

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Before

is a color I cannot describe

a place I don’t fit into anymore.

 

Even if I am restored

things will be changed for good

for most of us there are times

that shape our marrow

could be in the form of torment

maybe sorrow, sometimes joy

often the hardest times leave deepest imprint

perhaps it shouldn’t be that way

we should rejoice our luck a little, usually too busy enjoying ourselves

to leave permanent mark or maybe, challenge speaks louder than mirth

it is easy to accept a good day like a hot bath

than deal with a bad and hollow foe

that’s when our quick is sharpened,the story of our lives written

on the tip-toe of endurance

and what if we do not want to endure?

too bad, shit happens, legs break, minds crack

we’re going to end up there at some point

better waterproof our leaking sides best we can

the ocean isn’t a forgiving mistress.

 

When I fell, my mouth filled with salt

even then I didn’t know how far torment, reached down

it was a well, beneath the sea

a second drowning

for those who long to be free above ground

shackles of the merciless kind

only then I wondered at the strength of others

enduring from such an early age whilst I

ran long in the garden, unawares, chasing butterflies without a care

thinking I knew real pain from a momentary hurt

I knew so little

just a moment ago and a life time apart.

 

I am a twin of my previous self

we stand on different sides of the same coin

I am submerged, she is still, basking in the glow of a harvest moon

sometimes I look over at her and feel such envy

anger for my lack of appreciation when I, was her

but you cannot lead a horse to water

you cannot teach a child what she must learn

getting stung on the principle, she discovers through pain

it wasn’t in my thoughts that I should be

the girl on the other side of the echo, pleading to return

I don’t know if I will be permitted

but should I ever, walk again without curse

it won’t be as the same person, but a mixture of two

once you’ve seen yourself and begged for mercy

everything alters and everything stays the same

it’s up to you to be mindful of what you learned in that maze of pain

I learned what we think of as hardship

is often just everyday life

what we believe is suffering

can be comfort compared to other lives

when we don’t think we can change

then we aren’t given a chance, we know we should have

it is in diminishment we find elucidation

it is in horror we see truth.

 

Let me back inside my life again

and I will not be the girl who, took the easy road

for she now knows, just how deep anguish can go

it is in the tangle of the briar

and the wormwood of old trees

whispering advice never heeded

by the youth who believe themselves free.

 

Before

is a color I cannot describe

a place I don’t fit into anymore

 

 

Lay down your damage

A prayer was said

Shoulders touched

We bowed our heads

Even me, the last disbeliever

And as I bowed, I felt my crown 

Glisten as if, someone was baptized

A transfused light whispered

Lay down your damage

Separately unlock

Disease from health

Fear and habit

For we learn our lines

A little too well

In smoky glasses and from the bell

Tolling like a dry tongue overland

Where sound knocks on peace

Disturbing those who thought themselves free

A claim check, wet in your pocket

Salt stains on your cheeks

We cannot weep for who we were

Before the curtain came slowly to wooden floor

Only reach high to see

If in straining such weight releases

The trapped fur beneath us

Darting eyes the pretty prey

who can say

Yet we heave

Overboard those useless parts

Remade in full moon aching over Baskerville cloud

Not yet, not yet

But one day soon

Softly they capture

The soul set loose

She is the nimble girl who curled inside you, pounds for release

And panic is a thing with teeth

Set loose too soon

Let it pass in its frenzied rush

A drug addict to the hideous pulse of malformed balance

Turn away, instead, listen to the sway of pampas grass

And somewhere you are urging

Further than you dare trespass

For it takes in perpetual night

The eyes of a bird to spy

A way out without leaving

Blood in metal trap

Push fear back

She has overgrown her stay

Unhinge the cage

Be no more afraid

Of movement in darkness

Everything is possible when

You cease to hold the chain

More than we fear


If I couldn’t

Be relied upon

I would still

Try to stand strong

And if I fell

And those who are my kith and kin

Let me fall, rudderless

I believe I would still

Try to stand once more

This attending effort was not

Born to me

I was a slothful child

Idolent in summertime, slow to come home

Engrossed in the token more than press of life

Missing meaning within magpie’s shiny locket

I may blame a lack of moral structure

But it was ever my way to remain hollow, we are vessels of sound

The rod or the wild, we choose in our forming

I chose the willow path overgrown by neglect

You, it was you, years hence

Bending with an acrobats supple spine

Taught me purpose and value from your own pain

Late and much too past, still never entirely lost

On even the laziest soul, truth can take hold

I thought I knew truth

Until I learned to listen truly

I thought I knew loyalty

Until I witnessed real mercy

It was as if I had ever not, known a thing

And wiped clear of experience

Began anew, shivering in dawn without wrapping

I couldn’t see then, the other shore 

Or how

Waves are measured in metric pulse, known to moon 

I walked among prophets blind

And only saw my own, sorry reflection

I bled and believed myself insightful

When the blood was void of rust

You see, it takes rhat meterlurgic alchemy

To disipher ourselves and then, once seeing, cross that wasteland

I believed my intuition when I only saw shadows

No crucible of real direction I walked without legs, on the back of dry twigs

Until, woven with deception, snap, the pasture denied me 

Even the position of desicated scarecrow

For I was just an approximate, empty inside, tredding fallow

Without hunger or thirst, nourishment naught

Nobody to stand as sign post

If I couldn’t

Get up from my knees, though they were made of lead

And discover the dream, still in embryonic state 

That has been here all along, put away, almost forgotten

For we are, born to dream

Not to linger in collapse but

Leap graceful without weight

The chains imposed, released to fall

Cleanly from their imprisonment

Shackles are no natural state, prisoners of ourselves

Each of us has, a measurement of myth

Wings to fly and imagine if

We let go of shame and doubt

Those habits cast around us in woe

Lift, lift, oh that we could

Find the fabric beneath the world

And swim in unisen to its music

If I couldn’t 

I would not still be here

Trying to prove we are always

More than we fear

Out of time (2)


I’ll save you a place

On those days

Where waking it takes all

To muster gratitude

Yet we do

You and l

Find the fox path through thicket and dence bramble

Where light footed children before us ran

Soft in tow, elongated against shadow

Spilling their amusement like hay seeds

And stubborn burr, clinging to wool coat

Just in case it should grow cold

Then from our tree house

We’d forage for kindling

And brighten the alcoves of elm and foxglove

Just like when you were gone

Sealed in a room like you’d boarded a ship and steamed

Through hectered expanse, combed wild with distance

So far I could no longer hear your metronome

When windows flung like outstretched hands, you played Eric Satie

Able to conjur emotion without perfumed love letter

When all I had was a supple back and trained muscles

Dry with chalk, head bowed, waiting to mount and vault

Gymnast or star catcher, seems likely both

Such peacefulness in throwing out fears

With a twist of wrist, a spring and leap

When you do not hold back, that’s when you see

This world’s underpinning like a great silk train

All the seasons following in ivy headdress

Who knows the mood, a temperature of pick pockets

Punished or saved, sometimes hard to tell

We are like an indigo building storm

When weather is calm you can never tell

Invisibly, out of sight, burgeoning swell

Blowing cracked cheeks, gathering momento

If you keen into white noise, leapfrogging over din

Whispers on wind, gentle turns to fierce

We are so like our Creator, twisting at whim

Or by design

Either has the thickness of a stranger’s hide

Not our timid hearts, cowering at first lighting strike

Out of time, urging forward despite ourselves

The way

Yes
You can take away my last wrapping

That I am lain unclothed, on that unwilling baptism

Behoven to the whim of mankind’s mercy

Or 

Whether chance shall triumph 

Playing her arched long game in red taffeta

Or

The turn of weather vein encompassed betwixt fate

For surely

It rains where rain is least required

As once verdant lands, feathery and skeletal in need 

Their leathered thirst a distant drum beat

We may rend our chests in trying to reconcile

What seems without mercy

As the seeds dry before they reach

Nourishment

As the sun turns away from its hungered crop

As a girl is dragged off, just for showing the ragged hem of her ankle

We who comprise of water and salt

Sweeten nothing if spent in pursuit of filched agrandisement

Forgetful of those who once were brothers, sisters

Pausing toil to climb the jagged mountain

Sharing water beneath wide branched tree

Who has seen the come and go of little things like ourselves

Heard the speeches and secret vanities whispered into night air on polinated breath

Whose roots alone dwarf our fidgety pretention

All at once magnifying

The worth of an honest man, a kind neighbor

The brilliance of a blue throated starling

As language most timeless can be found in the grateful eyes of a stranger

Taking the long road together, as water shall run

Again in dry river beds

And show us our rightful way

Ricochet

mandala-tattoo-mandala-design-kreise-schulterShoulders, it is said

by men and women in white coats starched for effect

cannot freeze

nor can we die from heartbreak

until we do

mystery of life

so much further than test tube

scientific figure shifting in study

answers undiscovered

by pill poppers and devotees of

mechanical Gods

I told the doctor

look doc, my shoulder froze over like a lake

when my heart began to ache

it wasn’t the weight of a sofa pushed through a closed-door

inhabiting new space

I never was good at change

still my shoulder froze one summers day

now withered and mismatched I stand lopsided

few can really tell unless they look

closely

maybe that was the real intention

to stop skimming rocks over

smooth surfaces

but peer

deep

beneath

anyway doc …

have you got a script

to lend me a little

relief?

his eyes were the color

of my morning coffee and

regret filled them

I’m sorry young woman

you will have to wait

like all the plants and trees

birds and things

depending upon the sun

until it warms by gradual wind

for as much as you deny it

the frost has you by the throat

claiming your limber soul

it won’t relent if you take a warm bath or rub some salve

you will need to dig deeper

discover what pain holds

nailed by the shoulders

to the ice of regret

maybe by twisting, learning how to tear

yourself from your frame

you can alter your picture

shift strung decline

break out

do over

earn wings

gain altitude

escape

the capture of frozen shoulders

attempting to hold themselves still

against ricochet