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Saturday, January 28, 2012

Past

It holds me in chains
Drags me to places I don’t want to go
Takes my breath
Fight or flight

It’s always there
Part of everything I see and do
Follower
It consumes me

It invades dreams
Those I have sleeping, those I have of future
Creeper vines
Clinging to my walls

It drives me
To improve and grow in spite of it
I founder
On the rocks of it

The past
Is always with me, inescapable
Creating chaos
Driving me insane

To remove it
Like a worn out suit of clothing
Dead skin
Exfoliated

Freedom and future
Fearlessly moving forward to health
I dream this
It invades the dream

Dinner

Dinner


I look at you
and sense
a full meal:
appetizers,
meat and potatoes,
a small salad
on the side,
and dessert,
sweet, creamy delight.
A feast
lovingly prepared,
passionately eaten.
Sated,
I lick my fingers
and wonder,
where do I hide
the bones
when I am
through.

The Ward

The Ward

With my eyes I scrub the linoleum.
I don’t ever know if they watch,
But they never miss my medication.
I used to have a kitten,
I would hide her and take her out to play,
But one day I dropped her down a crack.

They say it’s my head, it’s cracked;
Sort of like the linoleum.
I know it’s a game, I just don’t know how to play.
I know what goes on here though; I watch.
I can be as sneaky as my kitten.
I’ve got to go, here comes the medication.

I need more meditation, not more medication.
What, are you smoking crack?
I’ve lost her, have you seen my kitten?
I like to wear socks and slide on the linoleum.
Hey, neat watch!
We have checkers, would you like to play?

Is that your guitar? I know how to play.
At least I could before the medication.
There are crazies here, I watch
From my room, there’s a crack
In the wall, down along the linoleum.
The nurse is coming with my medication,
I hope she trips on the crack.
I’ll stick my foot out, she usually doesn’t watch.

Hey, are you watching?
I want to dig my kitten
Out of this crack
In the wall so we can play
Once again I must bow to the goddess medication.
I think I hate this linoleum.

Medication my butt, I’d rather smoke crack
And play all day with my kitten
Instead I sit here watching the linoleum.

Friday, January 6, 2012

looking glass

Leave the past behind,
It’s what is often said;
How does one leave it?

Pieces of us stuck
Behind a mirror,
Reliving every moment
Of painful times.

Through the looking glass;
Our selves trapped in time,
Selves unable to move on,
Separated from our host,
Divided from the core.

Leave the past behind,
It’s what is often said;
How does one leave it?

Tiny children twisted in time,
Behind the mirror
I see my face and theirs
And know the pain.

Pain in time suspended;
Each moment relived,
Selves, pieces chipped off
By events too terrible to face.

Leave the past behind,
Why is it often said?
How does one leave behind
The selves who got stuck
Behind the looking glass?

Blocked

I find I haven’t been writing much at all. When I do write I write long hand. I need to transfer a lot of stuff to type and some of it needs to find it’s way here.