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I looked into the forest
An urge of wanting to run through the trees sparked through my mind.
Run without ever stopping
till it becomes the very last memory of my disappearance.
I'll go into the places men have never been
The dark places men fear
For darkness is where depression hides
I'll Watch from a distance how the absence of my existence affects the ones I love.
Life will move on.
The absence of one person doesn't make the world wait.
While I await life to move on,
I turn green with the sickening surrounding of nature,
Depression keeps me company and away from the fruits of survival(food).
The ground beneath me becomes colder by the day.
And as time comes were I am forgotten enough from the hearts of the ones I care about,
my heart becomes empty from the absence of their love.
Depression
my only friend
takes pity on me.
fills the emptiness in my heart with darkness and lead my heart to a state of tranquility
As my heart goes
Beat-beat, beat-beat
Beat-beat
Beat
And then
Silence.
in isolation you really get to see the truth of who truly cares for you.....but sometimes the truth brings on so much heartache you become deathly weak and depression sees it's time to make a move on you.
She’s
a
Beautiful          piece
Of  
                  broken
roses

One        thing        I’ve        come        to
  Observed   A   Rose  flowering   Plant
Always    Grows  back     Stronger
Blossoms Evermore  Beautifully
Regardless How many
Times   It  has been
Step  
On  
Or  
S  
  C    
  O  
    R  
          E  
                 D
In Case  No One Told You Today.... You’re A Rose ... You’re Loved!
on a sea strand,
have you watched empty shells
mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
and from shore to sea?
      
often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
with jagged and broken edges
colorless and empty

among many a debris cast on the shore,
i lie half buried under the sand
waiting for some mighty wave
to wash me away
all the way to the sea

how tedious is my voyage
shuttling from him to her
and from her to him
unable to openly confess
who weighs more
on the balance of preference

through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
am I a puffer fish, being toxic
the fisher men have discarded?
a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder....! I often ask myself!

destined to grow
in mercurial climes,
planted in arid shallow soil
with the tap root trimmed,
branches pruned,
growth denied,
I, a stunted bonsai!

still I dream to be a towering tree,
that in profusion gives fruits and shade!
a ****** aspiring to be a Goliath
a hollow reed,
longing at once to be the singer and the song!
When a divorce occurs, the threat of losing the home and losing the purpose of life confronts a child, especially in the younger age. Children of divorced parents experience a real trauma and they begin to doubt about their own identity!
We throw away many things
if they are broken.
Old toys, mirrors, clothes

But we try to mend many things
we perceive to have value.
Baby blanket, foundation, phone

Where do I fit, sitting alone?
Should I be thrown away?
Lost, confused, unknown

Or is there some value in me
that I cannot see
that will push someone
to mend me.
I wake up
my arm
finds you not

only a pillow

you are not here

anymore
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick

Lacing my skates
after walking two miles
in girl-strictured delight
Mom's stories of Sonja Henie--
No, not ever

Lacing my skates
with  snow-ball pompoms
felt skirt
and nylon tights
Cute little hat with matching scarf
My thighs and fingers
already freezing
icy burn
from miles on foot

to get there
the lake where--

I must get out
I must get OUT!

Knowing what
to expect from my body
the quick-twitch of muscle
Could always sense
specific--
gravity of water    
at 22 degrees

Desiring to feel
the motion between ice and steel
Read speed's vibrations through my body
The brain registers relation
to weather's effect
Tell of velocity
possibility of fall
Feel the slash of the blades beneath me
Throw my weight sideways, sudden
to hear that furious hiss
An object in motion tending, dire
to stay in motion

Threatening to stay there
always
in its heights-- of speed
away--

from the crowds of skaters
swirling distant in the lights

Seeking instead
the farthest reaches of Porter Lake
speed and speed and more
to overcome
inertia
of what it is to become
undone

at the outer edges, of humanity
A force  
centrifugal unto myself

Avoiding

Pregnant and slow
with years and babes....

The best
must be broken and tamed
of what it takes to stay free

catching the edges with every stride
catching my toe in the quick
180
spray of frost
to the sudden still

Listen to the frigid chill

and the heave of my breath
tumbling into evidence

Gliding
Once

Forever--

on, into darkness
of woods on frozen water

The wildness of it all

So infatuated with flight
so full of grace

I forgot Sonja

The moon rose
from her seat in the treetops
and applauded
Wrote this immediately from a dream a couple months ago.  With all the heat and humidity, it sounded good to go today.

This dream was an actual relived memory of being 12 years old and skating at Porter Lake in Forest Park of Springfield, Massachusetts.  22 degrees F is minus 5.5 C --Just a reference
I read these words here tonight and cried into their truth.
I will not apologize for the truth or the cry of a heart.
Doing the right thing sometimes, takes everything...sometimes more than I got, and I would never blame someone for doing somewhat less.

Please read Emily here:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1606848/the-problem-with-poets/
"...In many ways, we all fail..."  The Bible somewhere
Lost in Time

Time is a confusion to me these days.
is it today or twenty years ago?
My mind is now a time travelling machine.
Where will I be when I wake?
a thrush warbles its tune
through the open bedroom window,

I turn to Mary and say
It’s going to be a wonderful day, my love.
Then as I touch her long  hair
her undisturbed pillow reaches my fingers.
Then it is now again
I know she is no longer here
I lost her so long ago.

How strange the instant of our loss
never loses its pain?
I read the notes my daughter left for me.
The six cartons of milk in the refrigerator
A testament to my time travels.

As I eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast.
Mary joins me for a chat once more.
We talk about our retirement plans,
the travel, the exploring
the joys of freedom.
Old age will be our time,
she smiles,

I am as fascinated
with her sparkling eyes
as I was the first time
I saw her so long ago.
I have an overwhelming need
to tell her I love you,
but she has gone
lost in the mystery of times ether.

My daughter arrives to fix my lunch.
she asks
Why don't you move to the new
Assisted living place .
"don’t you get lonely here Dad?"

I answer quietly
No kitten,
Not lonely.
never lonely.
For all touched by dementia
Blessings
Jude
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