A couple poems inspired by our visitors this morning...
“We have to consciously study how to be tender with each other until it becomes a habit.”
I've been absent. I have been struggling with this underlying sadness, and a dark, dreary apathy. It's ironic, because I'm a basically happy person. I laugh a lot and find much in life to love. And yet, this writing has brought out the pain underlying it all. In honesty, I've always known it was there. It hangs like clouds off in the distance, signaling a pending storm. I work hard to keep the storm at bay. Working hard here being a physical statement as well as an emotional one. Go, go, go. Do, do, do.
No, I'm not talking possession
or anything Satanic.
I'm talking about those demons
that swirl around in your head
saying you aren't good enough
or don't know enough,
the ones that make you feel like
you can't breathe,
you could jump out of your skin,
you might just go crazy.
Does the fear I feel inside myself
have anything to do with you
or is it really about something inside of me
something which colors my view
I'm starting to think I project
these feelings upon your soul.
The truth, is likely more difficult,
I think I own this hole.
So what's the real risk in knowing?
What I'm unwilling to see
when I start to worry and fret?
What's going on in little old me?
The moment of panic,
the moment I realize
I've been baring my soul
and placing it out into the world.
Anyone could read what I write
and know me
better than most people
who are close to me.
It takes sheer will
to continue down this path.
I believe I'm full
full to overflowing
can't take in any more
need to spit some out
there's too many things in my head
always dancing around
like too many plates in the air
they threaten to collide and come
I met a new friend one day
seemed no one else could spy.
She was small like an elf child
with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
She moved her finger in invitation
and ran off down the street.
I followed her close behind
not knowing who we'd meet.
We came upon a willow tree
and up the tree she flew.
I moved with hesitation,
not having any clue.
We climbed higher and higher
right on out of that tree.
There were clouds all around us
as far as the eye could see.
Its a rainy day.
I've had only a few hours sleep.
Spent hours in the night
updating the front page of the site.
Now I have a home for my writing
I find I have nothing to say.
Its that force of expectation.
Its that idea I "should be" doing this.
I know, its nonsense -
I do it because
stories told about my conception
lies and deception
a light hidden
a false foundation
mommy goes to school
no daddy to fill the gaps
too many goodbyes and tear streaked cheeks
grandma and grandpa left holding hands
too young to understand
finally an adult
family members' attempted suicides
bring fear of loss
powerless to change