Tag Archives: musings

Slumber of the mind, of the soul

Rage and darkness greet me.
Failure reflected in the light of day,
Peace granted only with slumber—
Slumber of the mind, of the soul.

Stream of consciousness frightens
Anyone who dares to love me,
As the rage consumes and darkness
Crowds my weakened soul.

They say there is light at the end—
Light at the end of the tunnel of darkness.
With blindness I grope for the light
I cannot see or feel.

Darkness consumes me, and rage
Is my only avenue of existence.
As my soul retreats further and further
Into the depths, hate is all that’s left.

Sadness does not touch me,
A soul is required to cry—to feel
Anything besides hate and rage.
Pity me not—pity the one who loves me.

Love I cannot return in kind,
Rage and darkness are all I am,
Peace granted only with slumber—
Slumber of the mind, of the soul.

With every sunrise my soul
Retreats further and further into
The depths of the person I once was,
Leaving me in shadows forlorn.

They say that God will heal my soul—
A soul embraced in darkness and hate.
With blindness I grope for His healing
I cannot see or feel.

This God can only heal a soul
That exists, mine I fear, is in an abyss.
An abyss of darkness and hate—
Where there is no faith.

Despondent and desolate I concede—
I fight no more against the rage,
I welcome the embracing darkness,
And slumber of the mind, of the soul.

As we danced in the garden

Mother Nature shares every mood
She tells us when she is angry
She tells us when she is sad
She tells us when she is happy

What she never shares is why
Why she screams
Why she cries
Why she shines

We experience her every mood
Her vibrating screams
Her icicle heart
Her burning desires

Her secrets are her own
We seek to discover
What makes her tick
What makes her live

We discover only what she wants us to know
Shrouded in mystery
Shrouded in emotions
That cannot be foretold

She teases us with her quick
Changing emotions that
Toy with our hopes
And our dreams

Today she is hot
Burning with desire
Promising days of
Joyous play

We frolic in her
Rays of light
We dance in the garden
Overjoyed with new life

We sleep and dream
Of pansies and strawberries
Of the delightful days
We will spend in her warmth

When we awake
she is cold
Heart of ice
Breaking her promise

Taking shelter from pain
We weep and pray
For the end of her
Bitter betrayal

She promised us
Joyous play
And renewal of life
As we danced in the garden

She betrayed us all
And instead of new life
She brought us

Overload in the Circuits

Photosynthesis, Cellular respiration, Frankenstein, Hemingway, a mind that bleeds, college project, hallmark awards, essays, disjointed thoughts, lists of words, grocery list, biology, oncology, braces, appointments, back ache, neck ache, headache! Not only do I not have time to write, but my attention is pulled in a thousand directions. Things with due dates, forgotten things, things I want to do, things I will do. I could sing the woe is me song for days to no avail. Commitments are made, and I must abide.

Some day I will sing the victory song. Old and feeble, I will stand proud and Sing, I LIVED my life! I lived through the chaos, the joys, the accomplishments, the failures, the sadness. I LIVED my life! I lived through the fears, the tears, the laughter, and the triumphs. I LIVED my life!

But today, today I sing Woe is me.

Time to Write

Have you ever noticed, that when profound thoughts come to your mind, when that moment of lucidity strikes, when you are emotionally charged, and when your fingers desire nothing more than to flick across those familiar plastic keys, you are barred from fulfilling that desire because the world works according to its own time, its own needs, and its own demands? I have just these five minutes before I must bend to the will of the clock, the demands of my life, and the commitments I have made. Though college is important and I find such joy in the wonders of learning, at this moment I want nothing more than to let my thoughts escape from my over stimulated brain and find their way from cortex to finger tips where they can finally be free. Buzzz…that’s the timer, letting me know that I must force my thoughts back into their tidy boxes to once again wait for time.