Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Like an old friend..


I love poetry because it is a reminder of who you have been, places you have travelled, experiences you have sought. Here's a few I dusted off for your enjoyment. Let me know what you think. :)

Belly of the Bridge
I thought it was some hallucination or maybe the Shiraz,as I watched the man who called the belly of the bridge his home.

His arms and legs flailed through the air like he was kicking and screaming for sanity.

Was this his entertainment for those who rode by nightly in the riverboat?

Perhaps it was his own?

Or maybe he was acting out some nightmarish skit from his past.

Someone said he must be high.

I might be as well if I lived his life.

The speed of the boat forsook my steps as I tried to keep him in sight.

All alone he stood unshaven, unkempt, and perhaps unloved.

Was it a curse or a blessing?


Psychedelic in my bed
Psychedelic in my bed,Can't get this awful feeling from my fucking head.

Won't move forward.

Can't let go.

The downward spiral torturing me so.

Kaleidoscopic vision never disappears,

A rainbow of atrocity fills between my ears.

Who are you this soul I must claim as mine?

What my mind has done must be a final sign.

Abomination to polarize this personality it must be.

I am a transfixed imagined figure this world will never really see.

All that is angelic and innocent looms,so dangerously close to my naughty hidden rooms.

Who am I, this contemporary fairy on free flight?

Yes, I think it's going to be another very long night.

Untitled
I dig past the pain and I find even more.

Broken fragments I cannot string together.

My guilt is over whelming, yet I cannot find the crime.

Alone, afraid, fearful, paralyzed.

I cannot throw you away and yet I cannot embrace the gravity of your truth.

I run, cry, fight for addiction and fill my world with activity to avoid the stay still truth you know.

Too much to think on.

I'd rather sleep.

God help me.

Feel for me, what I cannot.

Work
Work. Work. Work.

2750 hours of this year gone.

Sleep- 2496 more gone.

3490 left to clean, pick up the kids, run errands, pay bills, grocery shop, pencil in time to enjoy life.

Busy. Busy. Go. Go.

Cars whizzing by and electricity shooting through the air.

Starbucks Carmel Macchiato, that sounds good. "$4.95 please."

Watch Oprah and American Idol on Tivo.

Shower, make coffee, make the bed, make a life.

Don't stop now, keep going.

Be a daughter, be a friend, be a lover, talk to Jesus, pick up the dry cleaning, complain about life with a friend.

Drive to the mall, watch the flourescent red, blue, and yellow signs flash by me.

Pass a homeless person.

Wait.Stop.

Don't.Don't be de-sensitized.

Who is this man?

Where is his family?

How can I be so blessed and him so unfortunate?

How did he end up on the street?

How will he spend Christmas?

Alone? In a shelter? Begging for change from travellers?

8736 hours to worship Jesus and what have I done?

Gave change to the Salvation Army.

Spent 5 years at a school fixing it up.

Went to church 39 times, busy the other 13.

Squandered my time.

Squandered my talent.

Squandered my treasure.

Gave not enough back for what I was given.

Looked at commercialism instead of humanity...God forgive me.

Shower me with your grace and mercy.

I am inadequate.

I am unworthy.

Slow me down.

Thank you Lord for your messanger.

Lord, I am humbled.


Dysfunction Junction
Dysfunction junction is a ride where you can no longer hide.

It’s where you decide that all of your decisions will misguide.

You wanted to escape, you tried, but without victory you subside.

Someone was suppose to be your guide, but their indignity is covered by your pride.

Each one a dose of cyanide, but it’s really your own mission towards emotional suicide.

Abuse and shame always collide, until you stand firm and open eyed.

Don’t be embarrassed you can’t get off this joyride;

it’s an epidemic spread world wide.

A cycling rollercoaster all part of the landslide, that is, until you turn the tide.

Walk away from the abuse, for god sake, untie the noose.

It’s time to call a truce, this time don’t let it seduce.

What left do you have to reduce?

What is it this time? What excuse?

Aren’t you tired of this boring game?

Tell me you want to be the one who overcame.

The only obstacle is you, so dear friend with this dysfunction junction, what will you do?

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