Tougher for the bones
On the way down.
Humans are built for uphill
DeShane took me mountain climbing today. I was panting and groaning until we were done, and then, so grateful. And I told him so, a lot.
Decked up elephants,
Sea of hands mark time for drums,
Splendour well defined!
She had been
In the blessed surrounding
Of good people
She had been permanently damaged by a bad person
Much to her surprise
The damage was not permanent
Though the layer she brought from it
Was uniquely her
To those lucky to see
She was not damaged
She was scarred
And scars grow back tougher than the original
And, in most cases, leave a beautiful reminder of the day God taught your *** a lesson
carousing with breeze,
scent of jasmine was my gift;
made me airborne quick!
her ring sits on the mantlepiece
worn thin on one side
that dull warm yellow
that gold sometimes takes on
i remember it cutting into my hand
as she held it tightly as we shopped
it was bright and shiny then
she used to wear it on her longest finger
after dad left us, she left it off for awhile
and then wore it on the other hand
it was tight on her workworn hands then
she took it off again before she went into
this last home, but kept it locked in a security draw
now it sits on the mantlepiece, waiting
for me to find a safe place for it
for it is the little bit of my mother's spirit
that will one day be part of my son's wedding ring,
One of my mother's requests....incredibly, poignantly beautiful
sacred silence hangs on angel wings
blessing, watching over wakened night
fluttering on the screen, drawn to the light of
consciousness, the truth of darkened mornings.
strong, alone, remotely flipping through the
channels of the restless bar-room soul
charles bukowski, angry, drunk and droll;
pavement wisdom yanked inside, renewed and
resurrected. rolling stone lays open,
having sprung the latent-night messiahs
preaching to insomniacal choir.
cryptic muse's recipe for coping:
be consumed, entombed, re-wombed by
worshiping and feeding written fire.