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Poem – Pain
The night falls quickly as the sun escapes the horizon and reaches across the calm sea to the shoreline where a lone figure stands atop boulders. There is no sound and no trees move. In the absolute silence no words are spoken. We can only guess the thoughts, the circumstances that brought this being here,…
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Poem – Beginning of a Season in Hell
I am petrified, The walls surrounding me Reaching towards Heaven and Hell Thoughts consumed, Turn towards the past What I had and lost and what I gave up I see her image, Like I remember Her warm touch, Her warm tears upon my cheek A deep voice to protect me Further back I travel to…
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Poem – That Delicate Balance
I listen and watch the stories unfold of tragedy and unrest of the mountains unease. There is no escaping the silent truths under whispered breath – we are at her mercy. In the throes of spring I swim within my own journey and the resurrection I undertook with your hand gently upon my shoulder and…
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Pain
Pain is a nasty companion and sneaky. Weeks pass with no sign of him or his shadow. Then he visits. But gently. Starting with a morning headache, slight. Some throbbing, moving through each hour of the day. And the first day stretches into another as a restless nights sleep compounds the consuming constricted veins that…
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Welcome to Fall
I can’t believe it is already fall and October. I have drawn within myself the past few weeks as my headaches have been occurring daily, except for today. There is nothing better than the feeling of liberty when you are back at the normal level of feeling, or the balance you have learned in living…
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Poem leftovers
As I debated within myself whether or not the “Untitled” poem should be left as is, or delve further into the mind, and what is being sought, I tossed these stanzas around. These are lost in the ether now, searching for a new poem to hopefully pick them up. Other Lines (2) Descending fully into…
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Art, passion, need
As I shrug off the last remnants of the latest migraine, I wonder about why some people are motivated or pushed into the arts. Some are labeled artists by society, some are by their occupation, and others are artists by their passion and drive. As I look back on my life, from a semi-clouded state,…