In just one split of an instant
Life force entirely withdrew
With your vitality vanished
I find myself severed in two

As heavens expand between us
I fear I’ll recall less each day…
So, I think back through the senses
To keep time’s forgetting away

I’ll always smell you as diesel
From the truck you tried to repair
And later, the antiseptic
Congealing the hospital air

I can still taste the cheap cigars
We inhaled as an attempt to cope
The blandness of the Psych Ward’s meals
where you hid your disorder’s scope

I almost still hear your singing
Of single half-melodic lines
Always found it quite endearing
How you’d repeat them so many times

And, while your laughter still cuts me
It’s Your voice I try to repress
The sound of its damage haunting
Scarred, by the life support process

I still see the flash of brilliance
Intensely piercing through your eyes
But yet, with a sense of softness
When returning silent replies

And I still feel your energy
In brief moments I feel in tune
So, I remember through senses
Until we will meet again soon

~
I.
Killing Mary Poppins
with a spoonful of sugar,
the sugar from the medicine
on the other side of town,
the town called Silent Hedges
And A Bit Of Fluff.

II.
Only a display model,
her name is Marmalade;
skin white like the moon,
she wears her ****** stranger dress;
one of her sisters is dying,
the other never lived;
God is a far off concept,
the fuchsia colored ball on
an overhead power grid
points her way to salvation.

III.
Morning became something else:
bright decline,
cold things start to burn,
tragic saxophone
among the beckoning,
everything's a symptom:
tax exiles, imperialists,
girls talking nitrous
--mouths full of soil,
Virginia Reel around the fountain
(do-si-do),
ready to buy up impossibles
as the dominoes fall.

IV.
Memory is a chemical
to the girl who cried champagne,
like ceiling stars
during the prodigal summer,
she played the game
on all fours,
and found a drawer
full of quarantine polaroids,
some with blood in her mouth,
others, of rain on her birthday.
~

I’m coasting through my life,
Many chances unseen,
Perfection or failure–
I know nothing between.

I’m afraid to attempt,
Any new kind of feat,
For risk of the unknown,
Leaves my goals incomplete.

Before an honest chance,
I avoid and delay,
Then I self-sabotage,
Every step of the way.

And I’ll only engage,
If I’m sure I’ll succeed,
Never taking a chance,
So, my win’s guaranteed.

This way I’m protected,
But, I don’t dare to dream–
For I’m broadly inept,
With a low self esteem.

Of course, I’m missing out,
On any real progress,
For this fear of failure,
Never leads to success.

From the pages of Peanuts came Linus
Neurotic but here to align us
From his blankie one learns
About coming to terms
Lest our character flaws should define us

---

i

blue grey clouds
of crushed
velvet

sunlight
tears
the
seams


ii

embers of
delicate peach
ignite flames
of fuchsia

the orb of
sun burns colors
away to ashes

blown into floes
of white
mare's
tails


iii

tiny bird
settles restless
on the
highest
branch

flits
away


iv

wind
through
the weathered stones
cries then whispers

luring
the children
who lie within our ribs
to break free
and sing
songs
of
play


v

mamalaria
cactus
wears her
wreath
of
pale
lavender
flowers

sings to
her babes
clustered
below

saguaro
listens



soulsurvivor
(C) 9/13/2015

Better to be taciturn
Than babble through a tacky turn
And fail to hear enough to learn
In common conversation

Others may proclaim you shy
Or timid, mousy, terrified
Resist the urge to justify
Your ramble regulation

It doesn’t make you weak or mute
To take a minute to compute
A thought before you contribute
May optimise your speaking

Pause won’t hurt your cause unless
Your words are just a game of chess
To press, suppress, or to impress
Correcting or critiquing

Do you desire a partnership?
A sharing, caring, airing?

Or more of a dictator-grip?
A snaring, scaring, blaring?

Maybe you are silence-scared
Uncomfortable with empty air
And feel it is your job to bare
The sound continuation

Worry not my helpful friend
Your heavy duty at an end
More useful with an ear to lend
       Look kind toward the taciturn
       You may yet find a lot to learn
With still consideration

Why do we carry this language of blame
Describing our keys to survival?
Subsist and survive are not really the same
The latter complexion, more skin in the game
Not best-life but rest-life deprival

How can we cope in inflexible ways
When bad comes with real consequences?
Surely attaining more subsequent days
Shows that our coping is worthy of praise
Extended, effective defences

When can we grant ourselves residency
With normal societal backing?
Without the heretical hesitancy
But carrying coping more elegantly
Set free from self-tackling attacking

       Can we retell our histories
       Including the victories
       Earned by our damaged main actor?
       Are social consistencies
       Issuing injuries
       Skipping the benefit-factor?

Behaviours may surface inexorably
No use in my current rendition
But very successful in rescuing me
And thus, I will carry them generously
Admit that I needed them desperately
       But not in my present condition
Release them with grateful permission

Don’t worry yourself, purrs Negative Voice
I'm telling you this to protect you
No lead in your pencil
So pointless in fact
No person of worth would respect you

    Dear Negative Voice,
       I see what you mean
       But just a brief point for reflection
       I’m not sure I’m really an absolute waste
       Consider some minor correction?

It’s better for you, coos Negative Voice
To know that you’re practically useless
No rain in your storm cloud
So juiceless in fact
You’re toothless, inept, and excuseless

    Dear Negative Voice,
       A stirring reply
       Is this in totality truthful?
       I’m sure my ineptitude has measured bounds
       And even just sometimes, I’m useful

The beauty of living this version of truth
Is, you are at maximum harm
Nothing they’re possibly saying to you
Will add to your sense of alarm

Providing agreement to monster-y ones
Might also afford added aid
Appeasing and easing an excessive ego
May downgrade a wailing cascade

    Dear Negative Voice,
       Deep thanks for your thoughts
       A note of some gentle resistance
           I notice I’m having the thought that I’m worthless
           Historically helpful, but now with no purpose
       Distinct in my voice, yours holds limited purchase    
       So now I can give you some distance
           I humbly suggest
           This grateful request
       For inner, more peaceful existence