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liv Mar 2019
as she sits
her thoughts exploding
one
after
another
some + others -
she thinks:
maybe if I dig deeper people won't question, "are you ok?"
Joseph Loggi Oct 2018
I got a couple of things to say
That I feel would clear
All that fog that hangs
Inside my head
and makes it
so hard to
think.
But if I open my mouth
All the mist will
Come out
And I won't see
the truth.
Andrew Rueter Oct 2017
Things blow up
People throw up
And then walk on
A land mine
When they talk on
A landline

I try to enjoy myself
But enjoyment has stealth
And eludes
Which secludes
Happiness hides
Behind sentinel shrapnel
That makes us abide
The rules of this flat Hell

There are frequent explosions in my mind
They are sequenced implosions through time
I have poor explanations
For my inflammations
My hands fumble
My brain crumbles
Progress is lost
That's the cost

Frustration cooks
From holy books
And constitutions
That can't be changed
Or rearranged
So we're gridlocked in an explosion
In Hell's fruitless fire we are frozen

Explosions dot the planet like acne
Humanity has no choice except to get older
Sharing information is our main asset yet we grow colder
We must evolve together
We're doomed to be tethered
So we must gel
To avoid Hell
There are monsters in our midst
In our mind is where they sit
We must expel them together
Or we'll be exploding forever
Kathleen M Mar 2018
There is a light, it's flickering a pale white blue.
The carpet is rough on my face, silence permeates the house. I should get up.
I should pull myself into personhood. My hands tremor, I let my finger tips find the end of the carpet. Skimming the floor boards shaking fingers beginning to tap tap tap out the only sound.
I used to drink the restlessness away, now I am left a craving in its place. Tap tap tap say the fingers.

Violent imagery flashes across my mind, car crashes,  rending metal, glass breaking, bones snapping there are sharp falls and hit and runs and stabbing on the sidewalk,  knife sliding into my flesh. Leaping into oncoming traffic, my heart skipping beats and laughter always my laughter. The final moment of freedom replayed over an over.  I can't tell you why it makes me smile, I don't know why myself.
Tap tap tap tap tap irrattic finger tips might be getting angry. Have your limbs been angry at you before?

Rolling over the popcorn ceiling swirls,
I realized a while back if I pay attention to the patterns they shift, I hallucinate mildly on most days. I think I might miss it if I were being honest. I focus on my skin, the way the air touches it, the way cold feels, if I savour this enough I almost feel high, high is almost always on the other side of sensation.
I might always be a touch high compared to how the average Joe feels. This is not a desirable state, but if you talk to me tomorrow I might say it's a gift.

I slowly stand, my knees cracking fingertips tap tap tapping up the wall. Giving up drinking was like giving up one of my last connections to my dearly  departed. Gin and alcoholism kept a part of him close to me. Medication and therapy take me further and further away from the person who knew him.

I walk barefoot, the texture of the floor boards underfoot, stepping into the kitchen I pull a wine glass from the cupboard. I want to hear it sing, I flick the glass, I hold the opening of the glass near my ear. I can feel the sound touching my ear. Soft ringing until it's quiet again, I've tried to savour the experience by listening in to the sounds of my world.
Listening to the slow crunch of a crisp apple, the sound of the city, the bubbling of the fish tank. Perfect beautiful sounds ripe with happening.
You can hear the happening of what is at all times if you choose to.

There are other ways to savour, I think it helps to be here and now, the savouring it I mean. By "it" I mean everything your senses allow you to perceive, the everything that is your sensory image of the world around you. Your brain built the image of the world, it's a reflection of you. The world is a mirror to your mind.
Often the reflection is not something I'm proud of, other times I'm exploding with pride.

I wish I could share what I've found with him, but I wasn't fast enough, I wasn't paying attention.

Attention to here and now has been the key I keep dropping and picking up.
Pauline Morris Jul 2016
***
I knew it was coming, I was settling into a groove
Thing's where going a little to smooth
I felt a first a small quaking
The universe's desire to **** ME OVER was awaking
Then life explode AGAIN on me,  all over the place
Now I'm standing here with the universe's **** on my face
Cori MacNaughton Oct 2015
She had been at sea for three decades
her first voyage at age eighteen
a week after her marriage
in the year of our Lord 1883

She married a sailing man
captain of his own ship
handsome, bearded and tall
a fine commander of his men
as they searched the sea for whales

She loved life at sea
and could imagine no other
the motion of the ship
the sounds of the rigging and the sails
the quiet companionship
with her husband every evening

She was beloved by her husband’s men
whom she mothered well
having had no sons of her own
but nurtured and healed
patched and sewed
bloodied and broken hearts and men

Often she came out on deck
for she knew when they would find them
and though she was in the stern
and the lookout was high in the crow's nest
she saw many whales they missed

She thrilled each time she saw them
awed by their sheer size
marveling at their strength
humbled by their beauty
careful to hide her feelings

Sometimes she could feel
when a whale would blow
and she would call to the first mate
so the men looked at her
as the whale passed unseen

Most times she silently prayed
willing the lookout to search
the wrong spot of ocean
and felt again the pang
of disloyalty to her husband
for he commanded a whaling ship

But then the lookout's call came
"Thar she blows!"
and the men sprang to action
taking after the whale in longboats
while she escaped below

She had seen before the killing
she would not watch again
too many whales succumbed
to exploding harpoons
and a death horrifyingly cruel

And she wondered
what would happen
if only whales could scream . . .
Originally written on 4 Feb 2006 at 11:57 PM.

This poem is very close to my heart, as I have been strongly morally opposed to whaling since childhood, and it was inspired by the following wrenching quote:

The methods have hardly evolved since Dr. Harry D. Lillie worked as a ship's doctor on a whaling expedition in the Antarctic in 1946:

"If we can imagine a horse having two or three explosive spears stuck into its stomach and being made to pull a butcher's truck through the streets of London while it pours blood in the gutter, we shall have an idea of the present method of killing. The gunners themselves admit that if whales could scream the industry would stop, for nobody would be able to stand it."

I recently read the wonderful book "Fluke, or I know Why the Winged Whale Sings" by Christopher Moore, in which , though it is a work of (mostly) humorous fiction, he recounts a factual occurrence of a mother whale attempting to protect her calf from the Japanese whaling ship pursuing them.  In Japan, whales are considered to be nothing more than fish, with therefore no moral reason not to hunt them to extinction, but her actions showed the whalers onboard the ship that she truly displayed a mammalian motherly love, and moved many of them to tears.  

There is still room for hope, but we have to act NOW, and drag our government officials into the 21st century kicking and screaming if need be.
cynthia Nov 2013
Sweet and serene,
alone but complete.
Deep thinking, sinking
into the music of my soul.

My love stays away
it's sad, but i'm okay.
We do what we must
for a cause, so trust.

again,
We do what we must
for a cause..
I pause.

Could it be that we
live in reverse?
As an effect in search
for a cause.

Should it not be
that we live to effect
the lives around us
the earth and all of nature
positively?

Perhaps this is what is wrong
with our Western society,
our obscure perception
of this corrupt projection.

This Western culture,
our political vultures.
The awakening of their deadened prey
is nothing short of forthcoming.

We'll become *Illuminated
,
educated, Enlightened.
This shell which imprisons us is bound
to break.

So pay attention, Your life, Their lives,
This World
are all at stake.
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