SHOULD

I should wake up earlier

Be more organized

Quit wasting time

Write more

Be more creative

Be more focused

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Stop and Stare

Stop and stare

At the mirror

Is it the same reflection

When you were guilty?

 

The guilt raised the voice,

“I am not guilty

Of the old sin

Cemented with heavy bricks

Of the cold war.”

 

Untainted Grace

Her head held high, wearing her crown with dignity

Proud of the woman she claimed to be

Carefree of all of life’s mishaps

Life happened to her in a split second

Dragging her pride and her head down with it

As her head continued to hang low the crown started to slowly slip off her head

The once sparkling jewels became a testament of her demise

The mist that rose from her sorrow as the cold tears hit her hot cheeks

Tainted her crown, filling it with rust that clung to the hinges of her heart

Between the Lines

Fear I do not
As you live
between my actions and fear

Anger I keep not
As you come
between my words and anger

bittersweet between my teeth

one wishbone for the ghosts to roll the dice,
We want to say hello
in prose with daisies
between our tendons,
to kill the sounds of rescue;
filling with anguish
[this is how we prove
our humanity].

The Complexity of Death

i.
The nauseating consistence
of vertical chrome-lemon lines
racing my mind to the stoplight,
should’ve been proof enough
-a warning.

ii.
Jagged velvet-toned crystals
highlight cracks in asphalt
around white vignettes.

Metal.
Everywhere.

iii.
Looking down
through cracked spectacles
at despondencey:
I’m wishing that I too
could underline
the spiderwebbing blemish
of perfection;
the complexity of death…
simplified.

Gate Eleven

“The Gate” Panting by Yordan Dimitrov

When faith troubles

Guilt just doubles

Happiness withers away

Innocence fades with sun’s last ray

Yet never rises again on the next day

THE WARRIOR WITHIN

I shall not run I shall not hide, I’ll face the void with my eyes open wide. I shall call up my warrior from within and hone my sword the battle to begin.

art from http://wweapons.blogspot.co.uk/

If I must make sense of what is my worth. I shall do it now I shall justify my time on earth.

Each time the void comes for me I make the mistake of either drowning or trying to flee. Why do I do this time after time  both paths are futile I end up broken, spent and feeling vile.

I shall not flinch this time. I will win I can answer to my failures  and each and every sin. I do not want to stand alone but stand I must. Be I only skin and bone.

Something in flying alone …..

There is something in flying alone…
Not a driver .. nor a  road…

just… the “go”….

It’s not that I do it often…
It’s not that I love it..

To be ..I mean ..on my own…
But there is magic in piano tunes..
There is  zest in flying alone…
To my comfort zone…

The Girl with no Name.

 

Heart strings taught,

Each finger strums a gut wrenching pang.

Voids are limitless,

Screams are deafening.

Black shadows crowd deserted hall ways.

My loneliness clings to every surface.

I’m drowning in my own pool of doubt.