In{peace}ner

Yet again, I a(struggling)m to sleep,
Yearning for m(soul)y to keep.
Day by pa(day)ss with no remorse.
Death scouring the lands on his tire(horse)less.

There was Mar(First)cos,
There was Ka(Then)in.
De(coming)ath is for all of us,
As morale beg(wane)ins to.

Shots are fired in hot spu(sporadic)rts,
du(I)ck for cover as my shoulder hurts.
Blood flo(down)ws my arm as I grasp my gun,
I close my eyes as my comr(run)ades begin to.

I am paralyzed, planted in the ea(bunkered)rth,
My comrades car(me)ry as they flee.
I fig(sanity)ht, refusing to see my own worth,
As bullets fly by, in an endl(torrent)ess of maniacal glee.

The pain sears, racing through mi(my)nd.
Muscles, tissue, bone, to unw(beginning)ind.
Con(crosses)cern my comrade’s face,
As he looks at my pai(disgrace)ned.

Earth spews the gro(from)und to my right,
Launching us into the thick fum(air)ed.
I scream again as my pa(rears)in its roaring might.
My vis(fading)ion as my body lands on my earthen lair.

whi(Death’s)sper then did creep,
His bre(cold)ath in did seep.
I no pa(feel)in as I know its time,
To join m(mates)y, out here on the Rhine.

I open the old, dusty attic window
Closed for so long, house of another Charlotte
And though it takes time, and the dust,
Still, I open the old, dusty attic window.

I had no plans on sneezing, no dust
will make me sneeze, is what I said
And I had time to spare, if there ever
was time to be nostalgic, it was this.

I open, open the old, dusty attic window
And see, through both black and white and
colored, simultaneously, I see the memories
Flashing back, like they weren't mine.

Are they real? Yes, they are. They just
don't feel like they come from me.
More like I'm audience inside me
Through the old, dusty attic window.

I play through the see-saw, and
slide down the slide, swing through
the swing, all the while with
different, many, many different people.

But she is the one I remember most.
She makes me sneeze, from the dust.
I should have known, and I sit
And watch the two of us, just the two of us.

How she would share the slide, and
push my swing with her might
And how I'd refuse to let her play
Just make her push me, and push.

How she'd be the tag, and look
and look for me, only to realize
That I have left her, have left
her counting, and hoping, and alone.

How I'd push her so she'd hurt
herself. How I'd almost push her so
she'd still get hurt anyway. How
she'd look up and smile and stand.

How she'd sometimes go quiet, some-
times go sad, though she'd never
really show, and still smile, and
push my swing and play with me.

How I'd turn my back when I think
she needed me most, and convince
myself that for some reason she
deserved it, to be alone.

And I wonder now, when I turned my
back, did she ever cry? Was I important
enough to have called to surface
The tears she so effectively can hide?

Did she love me enough that she
could endure? Or was I nothing so
she could shrug off the
bullyings that I did?

And I close the old, dusty attic window
Because she makes the dust make me sneeze.
And I still sneeze, because she always could,
Always, make the dust make me sneeze.

And now that she's in another playground
With more willing playmates who don't leave
Her alone in hide & seek, I wish to go
back and have her again.

And I think if I could have moved on
To the next playground with her, would
she still have played with me,
Although she is well-loved by others?

And I know (like I always have, only that I was
too selfish to acknowledge) that I have
hurt her, and she did not deserve
But still she stayed with me.

And I will always sneeze from her dust
Her way to remind me, my way to remind me
That for all the times she smiled, for all the times I
hurt her, I hurt myself more.

brick wall
years of graffiti ---
where are they now?

I told you;
That shipped has sailed
And I watched it go
I watched as it sailed into the sunset
And then darkness fell
Just like the darkness that settled into my heart
But alas, I can only hope that one day the tide will change
Returning that ship to its rightful harbor
The harbor that longs to be settled into
The harbor whose ties are so strong
One will forever be kept hold of
Securely
Infinitely
But most of all
Lovingly

A cherished friend once told me:
You are who you love.
I am much of her. And I am much of my other cherished friends.

A lost love lives on in this way
I am so much of him - I practically am him. I've loved so much I've left myself behind.

In the streets of Manhattan, my soul left me. Maybe it stayed there, awaiting my return
With some new fling on my arm
To take me to the opera.

I gave away my lightness and naivity to a dark, cold man who I know is more than that [there has to be more than that].

I left my pride in Toronto on Bloor street
Where I  flirted with 3 [three] men. I wanted them all. I still want them all.

But I took only one. Except he took me. In moments he loves me so much he turns into me. But it is fleeting. And it has gone.

So as we let go we regain ourselves. I will take back my optimism, thank you.

And I will remain as myself until we meet again. Maybe then we won't be so selfish and take so much,
Only to give so little.

When Peace evades me
     and Hope fades to a memory.

When Frustration and Grief become my only friends
     and Weak and Weary try their best to settle in.

Just as Hatred is knocking at my door...

My knees find their way to the floor
    
      and I cry out

I NEED YOU LORD, like never before.


© Tina Thompson

I think all I have ever created
is compensation
For being such a fool.
I had him;
ensnared him with my womanly ways.
I never realized he was always mine
And turned away
thinking I was doing the right thing.

I sought someone else;
I found him.  
I was horrified when I discovered
It was the love I always wanted—
And the love that undid me.

What I wanted was fleeting,
was overwhelming
in-the-moment
out-of-body experience.

Now all I want
is the metaphorical dog and house and white picket fence.
But it’s not those material items I crave;
It’s the permanence that accompanies
that dedication and level of love.

I don’t want it to only last a moment
and disappear
like sand sifting through the hourglass;
I don’t want to feel out of my body
Any more.

I just want someone I love who wants me too.

This is the curse of unrequited love.
This is the gift of Eve to womankind.
I was tempted, and I have no more
what I could have had for eternity.

i feel
like a subplot
in a forgotten movie
most of the time

because my decisions usually aren't mine
and my thoughts get plucked like spring's petals
too early to be appreciated
and not still enough to be captured