Wandering between two points
With no other exit plan
Wondering if I
Will ever see the light of day
Again
Even though
The sun is covering the earth
In sweet golden light
I am trapped between coordinates
I put in place myself
Over time.
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I try to think
Of happiness,
As a concept
Encapsulated in its own image.
And laughingly believe
I’ll be happy,
Just by bringing to mind
The thought,
That thinking happy thoughts
Would then follow
Without effort
And all would be well.
But happy thoughts only
Materialize ,
Not by concentrated effort,
But by avoiding,
All these wicked
People From hell.
Image from Beliefnet.com
Through orange heights,
Through turtle doves,
And through the alleyways,
I see the love
That hope enshrouds
Descend and take away
The thoughts I had of one I love
A city far but near
And in its grasp
A homesick dove
For whom I shed a tear.
The air is still,
I feel no wind
Inside I feel no sorrow
Upon my hope
My faith is pinned
The dove shall fly tomorrow.
I woke up tired today.
Hot sweet
Expressos
In tiny white cups,
Stirred me a little.
But lethargy,
And the heat,
And the crushing humidity
Made me anxious,
Gave me palpitations,
Made me light headed
And confused.
I had no plans today
So I sat at a pavement café
Sipping expressos,
Staring at people.
And when the dehydration
Brought on
Panic attacks
I was no longer tired,
And even though
I had absolutely
Nothing to do,
I was terrified
And saw quick stars
And white lines
When I closed my eyes.
And I just cringed
At the thought
Of the nightmares
Just
Waiting.
Image from medical daily.com
I can’t shake off this furious anxiety
That thwarts my breathing, to
Shallow repetitive beats,
Obscuring
My capacity
For normal thoughts,
And when I wondered why those
Intermittent perturbances
Should even be?
The question
Answered itself.
Image from The Odyssey Online
My signature on a Valentine’s card
Will fade over time.
But the aching intensity
Of my love
For you,
Will never
Be destroyed
By moments.
How much more can I take
From the weak, petty and jealous
Propping up their frail egos
By draining me
Of my peace
Of mind?
How will this end?
Their ego and character will sit unsteadily
On a dry faltering castle of sand
As my mind
Will become even more focused
And rid of the trivial,
Glowing like real solid gold
As the froth from the sliding ripples
Crawls
Towards an already
Shaky fort.
And the happiness
Drained from me
Was not enough
To save the castle
From crumbling
Back to the sea.
Annoying neighbors, very intrusive,
Pry into my thinking process
(Whispers and rumors)
Because I stand alone.
I am not moved by windy whims,
Or current trends,
Or little lies
Or envy.
And don’t care if Jack
Bought a new lawn mower.
Or slept with one of his students.
I was born alone,
Solitaire from dawn to dusk
But.
I do admit,
Any time the antagonism becomes
Overwhelmingly intense,
(Fortified by not knowing what I’ve done)
I step aside,
And conjure up a doppelgänger
And hand it over.
I give him the racing brain,
And resentment,
The swirling fury
And anything else
I don’t need,
To get through the day,
And bid him farewell.
Though I must warn you,
Bumping into this other personae
Would not be much fun for anyone.
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The oak table in the corner, sturdy and solid,
Under the candelabra ,
In the farmhouse,
A cracked jug on top.
With other kitchen accruements
Laid out neatly
By the stove,
The plates and tankards
Strung on the wall,
It’s easy to ignore
The cracked jug.
Most visitors were apathetic
Regarding the unglazed vessel
That had been left
By an old fisherman.
Even the new tenants
And their friends
And families
Dismissed it
As aesthetically spoiling.
And the old fisherman
Who once lived there
Knew what it was like
To be ignored
And untouched
And unloved,
Saw the blemish on the jug
As a scar
That defined the jug
A perceptible imperfect mark.
So before he died
The old fisherman
Dropped a large pearl
Inside the jug
And left it there.
When he was gone,
And when people came by the farmhouse
They ignored the dirty old jug
Sitting alone; like the old man
Would sit alone,
Not realizing that if they looked inside,
They would see the real beauty
The true value,
And their lives could have been changed
Forever.
And they come to tea
Uninvited
Fondling my fragile china cups
Tedious tapping of a tea spoon
On a saucer.
