Alas, for I am master of my pen;
But Calliope is mistress of me.
‘I kept reaching for my muses, my wandering muses, floating on clouds filled with their passions.’
- Chimnese Davids, Muses of Wandering Passions
The feeling of the saltwater getting through my hair, is amazing to.
The balance you make while standing on your board, like you're finally completed.
Like my heart is on the right place.
in the wind
to their final destination
in the gentle
from an explosion
turn to flames
petals turn to ash.
in the wind
original was gonna be tissues. glad i changed it.
Like a giant cotton ball
Moving at its own pace
In the giant blue ocean above our heads
Of many shapes and many sizes
Thick to thin
Streched and clumped
Making it like cotton candy
depending on the morning or night
An hombre of colors
Making them pop
As if in a pop up book
Light and white
Or darker and grey
Being filled with rain
Ready to cry on the earth
To water the lands below
Most times you are there
And sometimes you are not
But when you are up there
I could sit or lay down
And look up all day
i wish my body wouldn't fail me;
limbs tensing and refusing to respond to my commands,
lungs suddenly unable to draw air,
heart pounding with such intensity it leaves my body shuddering,
or maybe the trembling is just because you're sitting too close and it makes me want to puke.
i feel as solid as air,
and as sturdy as a china doll that's already fallen to the ground a thousand times,
and come out of it as little more than dust and waning hope
the disconnect between my body and my mind widens every day that goes by until i don't know who i am anymore or who's body i inhabit.
there's no one home and you might as well have killed me the first night, because it would have been so much kinder.
How and why is it birds can fly
What do they see, when they're up in the sky
So high, up above, and playing amongst clouds
Floating and soaring without any crowds
Finding the wind, to be their best friend
Having no fear of falling, never finding the end
Being free in the sky is a wonderful sensation
I can only see and feel it, in my mind's imagination
I imagine myself with a beautiful pair of wings
Finding solitude and beauty as only flying can bring...
Brian Hill - 2019#124
Inspired by watching the birds doing their thing...
Watching birds fly has been a wonderment my whole life.
Enjoy them as they take flight and freely float above us...
Floating upon the waters
has been natural for me
on my wavy journey of faith
yet for most of my life I have been moored
to one or another church or spiritual dwelling
and there in the six directions
of the medicine wheel
or in mindful silence and meditation
I found solace and inspiration
and challenges to be a better man.
Born into the Roman church
from a mother whose tie to sanity
was her rosary
each bead a knot
and the chain her bond to the holy.
Novenas, prayers, litanies, and creeds
became the native tongue
taught when we were young
mysteries and sensory symphonies
of the rituals filled us to the brim
spilling dreams and designs
for a special future
ending in the Great Upthere.
But a destiny of storms
awaited me on my journey there
as I fled into a barren night
a zeal and appeal of career my light.
Now in the lateness of life
I am again moored in a church
in love with several humble followers
of Jesus the Christ there
songs and Word and wisdom fill the air.
And back home I have my own medicine woman of a wife
a five decade anchor of faith
a vessel and fiery heart full of love.
So here I am no longer floating
or boating from one port to another
my friends are dying and growing old
my body battered and heart weary
but I am alive, again brimming and often teary
for God has taken hold of me
Jesus who hounded me has tackled this old fool
and the Spirit has chiseled and shaped a jewel
tenderized my heart with his reckless love,
his overwhelming endless push and pull
and with his merciful Light has re-created and made me full.
i guess i am floating
between heaven and hell
with all these tiny raindrops in my eyes
searching for a way out
out of this mess
what we called
I wish I could remember
I really wish I could
The dreams I had
The friends I've lost
A reason to care
I am just a child
floating in an empty sea
Not a care in the world
trying to remember
what I have long forgotten