creative

INKED THOUGHTS

Evening LightIt’s been overcast all day, only remnants of sun barely piercing through the cumulus balls of fluff. I was so late to work today that I was ashamed of myself and I allowed it to get the best of me. The remainder of my day was off kilter and I simply couldn’t get it back together. I drove home down the backroads listening to NPR but not paying attention. I think they were discussing ISIL but then again, who isn’t? The world is truly a frightening place though most of us have become numb to it. The tragedy in the lives of others rarely affect us if we don’t allow ourselves to feel the emotions.

Today’s Inked Thought is from my junior high school year’s. I’m not truly sure what the basis of it is, but it is one of my favorite poems. As I look through my  poetry–I realize most of it is rather moody but I guess that’s just who I was and partially still am. I believe it is from the era of my parents relationship beginning to deteriorate in front of me. But any-who, as I sit here enjoying this ‘good’ evening light, the dilcid swoons of Birdy– I hope you’ll enjoy this piece of me from yesteryear. so please, feel free to grab a cup of dark roast, turn on some indie tunes and just read. its good for you.

 

UNTITLED

as time goes on

and days go by

my life seems to fall apart at the core

where the lava of spirit boils over

my desolate night sky

invaded by inquisitive midnight creatures

and crescent moons ascend

that interminable darkness of my mind

seems to get trapped in the depth of my soul

where the stars behind my eyes gaze

alone and awaiting to be lit

 

the field of my heart is sinking

to new lows of despair

which can only be revived by another’s spirit light

a lantern that sets upon the shelf of my soul

adorn my lonely hedge of blue

with your tears of sullen joy

that I might feel your void

 

and together

we. will die alone

Inked Thoughts

It was a rainy day in June 2009. I remember riding home on my way from work and I was listening to a bjork album, but had begun to tune it out. You know what I mean if you’ve ever heard bjork. But I vaguely remember being overwhelmed with the want to cry. It came from nowhere. I wasn’t thinking of anything painful nor was I having a bad day. But I remember pulling into a gas station to write this down.

desert arrhythmias

she appeared out of the blue
concocted from the winds cold hands
and the warmth of the sand
there she lay barren to the suns harsh heat
and the stares of souls past
she was fragile and as frail as a starved child of many wars
awaiting a vessel of hope to be offered
from a warm hand
overwhelmed with the cracks of times
hurt      anger      pain       love
the pearls of perspiration waltzed across her mountainous brow
where the agony of the heat pierced her shallow flesh
and the sun contrived hills and valleys from the pain in her soul