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Mose Oct 20
A questionnaire of my family history is only a monologue I tell myself.
Practicing in front of the mirror to get better.
So, the next time the doctor’s words I am sorry falls back into their lips.
& I am onto my feet.
Tears in the ducts like my mind that encapsulates my emotions.
A vapid, monologue screenplay.
The rehearsed version of my life.
Somehow always fumbling through the words.
Answering the questions.
Yet leaving voids in my answers as my family’s members absence did.
Mother?
Two strokes. She’s alive but not apparent enough to know it.
Her blood runs to thick.
Blood pressure always boiling.
Mother knew how to live fast but never well enough.
Father?
Dead. He was alive but never long enough to hold it.
Heart always dropping and head into the palms of his hands.
Thirst never stopping.
Alcoholism is a wicked thing I say.
Siblings?
Brother. Alive somehow not present enough to count it.
Healthy. We count his days as tick-tack-toe though.
Family history has a lineage that says the roots in this family tree are rotten.
Sister. Victim to mental health.
The prodigy of a broken foster system.
I reckon her days are counted in lines.
Between days she’s alive & the days she wishes she wasn’t.
The doctor does an homage in the way she bows her head.
Makes the hollowed-out chest of mine seem like it’s filled with water.
I let out a gasp.
Trying to fill the room where all the air has seemed to have evaporated.
Hoping to catch my breath.
My story filling their break room like a lingering coffee smell.
Keeping them brewed in satisfaction that it could always be worse.
My story always seemed like the punch line for better days.
Our family has been waiting since genesis for such.
These are the days I wish I believed in something.
A god to drown every nightfall with dawn.
family sickness death grief history health wellness doctor god
Angel Nov 2019
The pink sky in this gloomy evening
made your heart feel something
That orange ball of fiery in the sky made you presumptuous
Then it all faded to grey
Clarifying your uneasiness
of what’s at bay
Too fast for your mood fluctuations
Even though it matches
This weather is too much a part of your madness
Everything from the sky
To the rivers flowing
To the air & the soil you neglect
by wearing shoes
How are you going to be the true you
If the one thing that’s tryna help you
Is dying cause of you
I wear my face mask like I wear my underwear:
Until it's brown and shredded.
Resurface
Reverb,
Renewal,
Revive—
Speak into Mother Earth
And our existence will thrive
Sometimes
We are dead
For no one can see

And when they ask
"How are you?"

Say the truth
Don't pretent
Genre: Rational
Theme: Face the truth,
Vierra Dec 2019
The embers of a dying fire
can still hold warmth
can still provide light

a sign of health
a sign of wellness

the tide pools at the shoreline
provide life
provide food

a sign of health
a sign of wellness

the promise that the universe will raise you as her own,
is a promise to all those of past, present and future
the cycles of life and death will always be present
the changing of this promise will never be doubted,
but it will be taken advatage of, be appreciated and be used however we decide.

a sign of health
a sign of wellness
for all those of past, present and future
from the Pacific with ALOHA
Lio Nov 2019
In some point of your life,
Which has been pain of your living.
It can be at any point of your life...

A sudden refresh of all yoursef,
Pops up as a regular coincidence.

Suddenly, all the weight of painful
Memories, thoughts, feelings are gone.
As well as potent satistafaction,
Becomes the field of your experience.

You feel like you are returned to
First home of humans, Garden of Eden.
Even you are looking to the
Boringly plains of detesting
White walls of your home
Or in the middle of the tedious lesson.

You feel like you are in the heaven.
Vast skies of azure,
Vast plains of shamrock.
Or the forest of complex Red pine...

Between the leaves a light ball shines.

It feels like a dream,
But concentration to atmosphere is
So high that it is
More factual than a dream.

Purple azure skies,
Candy red sun sets as a single god,
In rainbow of oranges and yellows.

Or you may be in the space,
Gazing thousands of
Little glittering color
In the vast darkness.

A nearby yellow star shines
As well as reveals thousands of
Spheres in vast colors,
Each of them an infinite heaven
With infinite liveliness.

Than you realize that all pain is gone.
You are refreshed, calm, in pleasure
In the highest forms.

Than you also realize that,
All of these is just a dream.
Imagined stuff being creation of you.

Even you attempt to leave
Beacuse of its fakeness,
You find the hardship in leaving.
Because it is the music
You are dying for hearing it.

Know that it doesn't come form
Your cushiony headphones.

Remember, that's the thing
You are striving for.
The complete well being of
All yourself, all your senses!

But the case is
We have big flows of energy
In our complex pathways of
Neural circuits and spiritual fields,
Avoiding the strenght of good
To hold us in good.

Because we laboured ourselves to
Live painful and weak lives
Just sake of survival.
So our brains are more able to
Suffer than satistfy,
More capable to experience and be
Bad rather than good.

What's avoiding this is the
Unconditional stabilization of
The experience of the good.

Owingly,
Even when the whole world is hellish;
You are the shine of the heaven,
Refreshing heights of elegance, content

Than you ask, how to do this.
I say; become that wholly,
Unconditionally,
Without any negative and bad.

If you still ask the same question,
Follow me! Just follow me!
Continuously, unconditionally!
This is all you need.

As the result, you will feel the
Depths of positive flow of love,
Heights of infinite continuous pleasure,
Taste of sweetest sweet without sweet.
In all of your life, unconditionally.
Even when everything is
Going painfully, badly, wrongly.

I call it the nectar!
It is a poem that will give a positive experience to you when you are in negative mood.
Lost Sep 2019
I am an abandoned ship floating at sea
Like a message in a bottle, I bob aimlessly
I drift along waiting to find my respective shore
But I find open waters and row my tired oars

I am fawn lost without a guiding mother
Wandering the wilderness and searching for another
My spindly legs fail me and the buckle under my weight
I collapse in the grass and decide all I can do is wait

I am balloon that was let go to sail into the endless blue
Gradually drifting higher and higher with nowhere to go to
I know sometime I’ll pop and that it may be soon
But for now I fly not trying to predict my doom

I am a pair of shoes tied together and thrown around an electric line
I have all the time in the world to dangle as the days wash by
My fabric has worn and lost its color but my shape holds true
Laces suspend me in this purgatory of treetop views

I am an abandoned ship floating at sea
Like all the other things I am, I’m living quite lonely
Feeling lost occupies the majority of my time
So I spend my days whiling away and working my mind
Writing now and then just to remind myself that I’m alive
That my thoughts and words are as tangible as relentless time
Ticking away the clock stays as consistent as my rhyme
Structure and hope are all I have to cope and keep me alright
I wax and wane with my commitment, it’s a shame,
But I think I’m doing pretty fine
N E Waters Jul 2019
I’m fine
is what you start to say
when you’re not, but
you’re sick of not
fine
And you
don’t want to be
             a
               downer
And you’re

sick

of having
to accept
advice
like
you just haven’t
thought
      to bother to try everything
yet.
       to
be
       fine.

And you’re sick

of explaining
every excruciating
detail
of your history
     and meds
     and procedures
     and life method

like you’re defending your
right
to make your own decisions

like you’re defending

that it’s not just

      ‘YOUR FAULT’

that you’re sick, it

    must be
       YOUR FAULT

Hey —

Have you tried:   ?

you must not have thought of that
yet.

I’m fine
  is because you need me to be
Because I am
       TOO SICK
ALL THE TIME

to deal with
     your hurt feelings

when you can’t

fix

me.

I’m fine <u>for you</u>

So I don’t hurt your feelings by
my feelings getting hurt when
I can’t just me honest that

   I.      AM.   NOT.   FINE.

without that being

        a crisis

for you.

Without you needing to come up
with a solution right then and
there to make me all better like

I don’t know how to
                                                                                         eat veggies
                                                                                               exercise
                                                                                [not **** myself]
                                                                                              try CBD
                                                                                             meditate
                                                                                 take time to cry
                                                                                                get rest
                                                                                  drink more tea
                                                                                [not **** myself]
                                                                                                 stretch
                                                                                 --hey, have you
                                                                                         tried CBD?
                                                                                it works for me.

And I –
    don’t want to be rude.
And I –
    hey, I’m here for
            you

So instead of being who I am
and owning my try, but

getting snippy when you’ve
beat me with your
good intentions
    and then
feeling guilty and attacked
and needing to take MORE time
to cry –
            I –
                      I’m fine.
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