When I am touching the soil or the floor or the mattress of my bed,
I am connected and solid on the ground -
I am part of something bigger.
Everything rolls and pulses and convulses and seizes underneath me
And nothing is still, but alive and rippling like water.
I am bound to the Earth,
And that makes me better
Than when I am afloat.
At those times,
I feel nothing but
Aching longing and a keening desire
To feel close to something else, be it breathing or beating
And the fact that I am really very alone
And rather more independent than I want to be
And that I can survive by myself
Makes me quite, quite scared.
My soul has taken to hiding in the deepest corners of my body, leaving me spacious minded. Grey sky's and distilled air comfort my tired shell. The welcomed silence blankets me it tranquility. Tall evergreens stand erect fighting against the wrath of society. My soul finds my autopiloted body. I am grounded.
My head aches from the assault of chance,
I refuse to kneel my resolve shall not pass,
I am who I am,
A man born of stars,
Made to Inhabit the heavens
I shall not let situation maim me,
Nor the tongues of ignorance impale me,
I am who I am,
Magnum opus of the perfect creative,
'A celestial being.'
The sea strains for the sand,
pulling, grasping at
each precious granule,
Their lovers embrace
with the rise and fall of the tide.
But I am not the sea.
The sky is not my sand.
"Reach for the stars"
When I am bound.
Chained to the rocks
Shackles made of iron
Caressing my feet
I reach for my sky
My haven, my light
But I cannot
For my wings are far too
Small, To carry my weight.
And I fall
Until I am grounded.
A fallen angel
When I was a girl I loved cars and Kim Possible
And green rocks I’d find in the pebble fillings of our school playgrounds,
Because they were rare and therefore special.
I read twenty books on gemstones and minerals and stared at the pictures for hours
Hoping one day I could be beautiful and solid and reflect the colours
You can’t see
If you burn your retinas looking directly at the sun.
When I was a girl I became a driveway because I thought
If I paved myself with tarmac or cement
I’d be hard enough to withstand the weight of everyone around my heart
And grounded enough to support myself,
But the construction workers forgot to check for groundwater
And I caved in when people decided
To unapologetically and unquestioningly park their asses in the handicap spot,
Mistaking the importance of my handicaps for the importance of their egos.
When I was a girl I became an asteroid,
Seeking a gravitational pull around a star that would give me a name and meaning.
But instead I found a black hole,
And before I realised my mistake in universal direction
Her gravity obliterated me
And absorbed whatever the fuck was left
Of the force I could have been.
When I was a person I became a tree,
Rooted to the earth rather than separate
And absorbing the light for sustenance.
I’ve forgotten what it means to be hardened,
But even my cells have walls around them
And now I’m as afraid of the ground as I am of the sky
And brave enough to reach into both
And just maybe find some answers in the crust or clouds.
I am a grounded explorer:
I dream of travelling the stars,
but alas there are few tickets to even Mars.
I romanticize the explorers of yor,
who roamed the oceans to explore.
Oh to be with Captains Lewis and Clark,
an expedition through the wilderness to embark!
The maps are made and the earth is mapped;
The Final Frontier is barely unwrapped.
It is not a do-it-yourself sort of thing,
I cannot just into space my body fling.
To explore the unknown would yield such glee,
But I console myself: at least the world's new to me.
Into the car drearily I go
There's no avoiding it, this I know
Headphones are in; world is out
As the music comes on, I try not to pout
I stare out the window full of despair
Every Sunday morning, it's the same affair
As I watch the rolling hills, trees, and skies
The image of a lone raven reaches my eyes
He's sitting atop a branch, seemingly divine
His piercing dark eyes are looking to mine
I smile widely, knowing why he appears
He leaps from the tree, his flight easing my fears
He soars through the air, the master of the wind
In our hearts I know we are kin
As he disappears, I see the grass flutter
In the flowing air, the trees too shudder
I know the winds and know their names
I hear their voices making their claims
When I see the sun, in his bright glory
I met a smiling face who recites me a story
A story on the wind, of fires and dancing
A story of forests and May Day romancing
A story of ancestors and honor and pride
A story of candles and spirits that guide
The story is my comfort as we continue to drive
I find myself feeling suddenly alive
But soon my time in the car has come to an end
I say goodbye to my natural friends
Away from my weekly prison, I wish I could fly
Fly past the cross and over the sky
But I’m no raven that soars through the clouds
I am a child stuck on the ground.
this is the year that youth dies
born into the world in the air
balloons embedded in flesh to keep afloat
docile and naive
with each spurt of growth a balloon pops
propelling one closer to the ground that has come to embody fear itself
the misery that can be caught in every parents eye
for the first time being fully realized
no fairy tale wet dream could redeem those juvenile days that could have been stolen
by the weight of all the bills and capitalist charades that fly through their accredited slot
accumulating into a mountain that in return deliver a crippling anxiety and a life of caution
A day can only be seized so long until night falls
cant fly back into the atmosphere
when the balloons have broke
and youre grounded
Tired of being hated
Her life was dictated
By the scars on her wrist
Her blood burns and twists
One day all alone
She realized she had no home
Parents yelling downstairs
Siblings crying upstairs
Staring at a reflection
That had taken so much rejection
Her mind was now made
She could never be saved
A heart so deeply hurt
She was clearly alert
The moment came without a sound
Now she's there on the ground.