If the sky should fall

And leave the brittle bones of our living

Shattered

Like teeth in the blackened angry mouth

Of a hag

What then?

Do we weep salt tears

For that which is lost and cannot be found

Raise a fist in anger to a savage God

Who will not hear our cries

As we wander through our ruined lives

Looking for salvation.

Do we bend our backs?

Put stone on stone on stone and build a wall

Make it strong

To foil the ravening wolves

Of fear and cruel self doubt

A solid moat to keep them out

And us within

While we begin

Again!

the music is starting
they said

the music is starting!
they said

and start it did.

the sound cascading like rivers
funny how it feels like it's surrounding me
when the speaker is very clearly to the left


when the song ends
the room is in an abrupt silence
and the walls are farther
and farther away
the walls
they grow taller
and the ceiling rises into the sky
for a minute i close my eyes
and feel an overwhelming empty

but here it is again

the music is starting
they said

the music is starting!
they said

and start it did.

Starting poetry again,
Was once a comfort and friend,
Now flames burn from ashes.
Paper transforms into an electric pulse,
From a hand extended outright and grasping for connection.

Together once more,
Was a friendship, loving, a journey through all that was life,
Not making narrative sense.
Now we rise as equal companions ready to slice letters with our thumbprints,
And tear at the nature of paper.

45 minutes before my real
new decade starts,
45 minutes before
I turn the music off.

45 minutes before another
dried leaf falls
45 minutes before a new
one sprouts...

there from a branch
of a tree
where all mem'ries engraved
with listed names
of those who come and go
while time passes and flies.

45 minutes...
last 45 minutes of holding on.

45 minutes...

then I'll let go.

I wait for the inspiration to strike.
For the lightning bolt to hit me,
for that satisfying boom of thunder
to be the music in my enlightened mind.
But it doesn't come.

Day after day, I sit idly
and wait.
As other crackling lights fill the streets,
I am stationary as ever.
"It will arrive," I say, "When the time is right."
But it doesn't come.

Dawn turns to day, day turns to dusk.
Twilight seeps into the once bright sky
And I know
My time is coming to an end.

But still, inspiration evades my waiting mind.

And then, as the soft light of the stars flicker into view,
Something finally comes.
I stand up and look around, the profound realization lighting my fading sun.
There never was and will never be
a thunder god out there to help me.

Because I am Thor.
The inspirer,
the creator
of my own lightning strikes.

I smile, contented,
but still, I know
I will never create that shock of energy,
that blinding light
or world-changing view

For now,
it is too late.

I'm learning
I didn't deserve
your type
of love

-em vidar

Pursuing ardent fervor
Lured toward peaceful obscurity
Beckoning.  
Outstretched.
Vulnerable
Freedom's abandon
Enticingly treacherous
Elusive assurance

I know I should be sad at the thought of what we had being washed away,
But a clean slate doesn’t sound too bad
And I brought my umbrella anyway.

What do you say?

Today I woke up,
and I realized,
that I hadn’t been sleeping,
and was grief paralyzed.

All that had happened,
all the ****** up nightmares,
all the loathing and anguish,
were all laid out and bare.

It took me a second,
to finally find my breath,
and when I did, I screamed,
and simply wished for death.

Take it away,
the agony that I feel,
I cannot bear this,
there’s no way to heal.

There was no answer,
as I lay on the ground.
No yes or no,
absolutely no sound.

I finally thought,
enough is enough.
I’ll fix it myself,
all the things I ****** up.

But before I do,
I’ll fix myself,
because you can’t fix what’s broken,
with something broken itself.

Today I start with me,
and I took a footstep.
One followed another,
even though I still wept.

I never looked back,
so I didn’t see,
what I left behind,
on the ground, was me.