24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
When the end justifies the means,
When all things known are not all things seen,
Enthusiasm wanes
Adrenaline drains,
Where did anticipation go?
Unanswered, lies, what is between,
that colossal start
and failure,
finite.
but, here at end,
worn, emptied,
spilled
an infinitesimal twinkle,
a spark of truth
asserts itself
above expectations–
Was all for naught?
Stirring the embers of what might yet be
–and lights tomorrow’s hope.
I heard in those words
the blame fall on me
for his reckless behaviour
while I couldn’t breathe
Your snipy remark,
made in a temper so whipped,
made it clear to me then
He’d been building strong sticks
for the blame to fall either
In your house or mine.
My heart broke again
In that moment I realised
He had lied to us both.
For years, oh God, it was years,
to see who’ d serve him most.
Dreams still cling to my sheets
As the trees wave hello out my window
The Moon had her chance to sing lullabies.
It’s now the Sun’s turn to rise.
But I,
am not ready for the day’s adventures.
I had too much fun riding the galaxies of the ethers…
Just 5 more minutes.
Please?
The excruciatingly dull ache in my chest
The feeling in my gut like a potato filled sac
Sleepless nights, tear filled eyes, blind rage
Hatred and love intertwined and unwound
Utter confusion. Despair
And when all these unfathomably uncontrollable emotions had had their course,
Time after time after night after night unto bleak, empty days that rolled by
The stark emptiness
Loneliness and longing
I just wanted it back
All of it
Every single detail of masked happiness and desire without truth
I hated my new reality and I blamed you
I blamed ME, I blamed humanity yet no aspect of human nature could explain…
I. Wanted. It. To. Make. Sense
Needed it to make sense. Someway. Anyway.
But it never would so,
I…I picked up the zillion shards of my fragile, barely beating heart; what was left of it
Threw them out the window, all but one
And as I watched them fall to the ground,
Some blown away by the wind, carried by the current of the ocean and into the dark unknown
I felt in my palm, the last beat of the last living shard
The ebbing away of its life
The death of a broken heart
The beginning of the end of always and forever
We create splendid things purely by accident:
The just-crisp waffle still tender on the inside,
awaiting the slow, golden pour of maple syrup.
The way sunlight glimmers on the doorknob
polished ahead of the visit from your childhood friend
who rushes into your arms for a celebratory embrace.
When the pink and orange neon of the Sleepy Hollow Motel
clicks on just as you approach and the gleaming arrow
feels like you’re driving right into 1956, one more time.
Then waking from a dream rife with confusion,
the wrong people in the right places, leave you
with the assurance you no longer need to consider them. (more…)
Too long I’ve lived
inside the noise,
the words,
the doubts;
I’ve been trampled down,
and made to shrink
beneath the sea of strife.
My soul was lost,
weighted by the expectations
placed upon me,
not just by others
but also by myself,
so all I could see was nothing.
Everything around me was blurred
and erased
by the chaotic flotsam
surrounding my life.
But the time has come
to pierce the shell
and break free of all the fodder.
My vision is clearer
and my heart is calm,
beating stronger than before.
I have punched holes in the cage,
and pieces of light shine on me again.
I can breathe better,
believing that the last few years
can fall away
as I slide out of their grip
like a snake shedding its skin,
revealing a new one underneath;
still tender,
but ready to meet the world
and start really living life again.
It is 9am and I have just finished my meal and the first of two coffees
I am energized now and ready for the day
I am ready for all that will come my way
what will the day bring who knows
today a new story will be told
a new chapter in my life will unfold
and I will seize this day and make it
my own for I am the author
of this life I hold.
The last Supper
Friend, associate, colleague?
The words escape me, absent from my vocabulary,
Perhaps a paired frosty soul,
Thrust into this icy existence.
Wielding a hand of God, or his adversary.
Removed from the therapeutic environment,
He sits at my table, haunted by voices,
Discourse of a split mind.
I serve him fine cutlets, my own recipe.
Tender, prepared, just as I prepare him.
‘Many go unnoticed, absent from my records.
Underhand, silent deviants, hiding.
Some with phobias, others with philias,
Attracted to the pain inflicted on others,
Such is life.’
I carve the pale meat, a steady hand,
Used to the blade.
‘One demon did solicit advice, secretly.
A penchant for youthful screams,
A need to watch the eye’s light extinguish.’
He digs into the flesh placed before him,
Listening to me, and the dark tones of his mind.
‘Without prejudice he would prey,
A hyena or rat, scuttling in his own filth.
His grim needs growing ever more macabre.
He sat at this table, much like yourself,
But without my integrity, a gift bestowed on you.
Medication took hold, sinking him into slumber,
From which he awoke, paralysed,
Severed spine. Able to feel, blade perfectly placed.
Slaughtered over time, I relished his consequences,
Empathy inflicted; empathy enforced.
His sins bled from his living corpse,
And offered to my honoured guest,
A fine meal?’
Bittersweet moments,
of a time in a hospital,
the thoughts of freedom-
felt vicariously
through a staff person when he leaves-
he can buy a creamy,
sugary coffee;
he can peruse through the books
of a library,
at the new bookstore;
he can go for a bike ride,
he can go for a walk…