lying in a field
sprinkled with wildflowers
and honeysuckle
breathing in
the deep fragrance
takes me back to an imagined time
of yesteryear
a young girl
infatuated with beauty
filled with a wide eyed lust
for life
brazenly consuming
all that's put before her
greedily gorging herself
with the earth's
magnificence
longing for an intoxicating end
of innocence
blissfully embracing
the world in it's simplest form

to dream
and become vulnerable
undressed and open
accepting with an open mind
is a very accomplished task

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction or
distress.
they dress well, eat
well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they have moments of
grief
but all in all
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy
death, usually in their
sleep.
you may not believe
it
but such people do
exist.
but I am not one of
them.
oh no, I am not one
of them,
I am not even near
to being
one of
them
but they are
there
and I am
here.

Breathe.

Settle yourself.

Try to understand.

We were meant to love.

And if we can not love, then we were meant to try to love.

And failing that we were made to breathe.

And try again.



-Sean Critchfield

i find myself filled with
zealous animosity
while observing the happy go lucky
faces of holiday revelers
i'm overtaken by a jealous urge
to deflate their wonderment and joy
                            somehow, someway

   would tripping one of them
as they walk by me
be too obvious
   would swiping the candy cane
from a rosy cheek brat
give away my true state of mind
   would throwing tomatoes at the parade santa
label me as a scrooge

these thoughts haunt me
i despise being eaten away by the exact frame of mind
i wouldn't tolerate from others
only the year before

hopefully this unintentional insanity
is short lived
hopefully my emotional strength of wills
will ground me...once again
for this me is not the me i want to spend
the remainder of my days with

lend me a hand, will ya
pull me up from this deep vat
of loneliness
and offer me to bask in the light
of a thousand suns
after washing me with compassion
and purifying me with love and tenderness
my needs are few/my wants easy
all i petition for is a strong arm to lift me up

look at you
with your cockeyed smile and starry eyes
do you view the world
through a nice, comfortable
haze
does your vision filter out
the sharp edges
leaving you with a blurry outline
so everything seems soft
   muted
floating through the day
intoxicated by the fabrication
of what you believe to be true
   and content with that
why question supposition
when drifting through the day in a dreamlike state
is so much easier.