Reasons Why

Its almost 3:30 AM, yet I am without sleep. I find myself in the living room doing crunches and sit-ups. Why am I here? Perhaps it is because my schedule has been turned around due to my night-creature tendencies and general holiday bedlam. Maybe it is because I don’t sleep well at night. It’s a wonder that I worry about that here; there is a strange cloud that hangs over this apartment preventing me from fully realizing dreams. Bad, good, or indifferent all dreams are fuzzy and ill-remembered. It takes an especially powerful vision to rock this haze that surrounds me. But do I really wish to be rid of it? I rested at the house of another last night, and the nightmares came again. Not just the battle, the chasing, and fear of that which lies beneath. The sorrow. The injustice. That which is so fundamentally wrong that it is far worse than being chased for hours upon end by a terrible specter. I dreamed of a dear friend being sentenced to die FOR NO GOOD REASON!!! She was to be incinerated…dumped into a crucible full of molten iron. Bound and carried on a conveyor belt into the foundry she was helpless. I watched as though it was a movie and I too was helpless. Oh the RAGE. The screaming in my head. My bitter cries that this was WRONG, that she was pure…these went unheard. There were no powers to stop this horrible scene playing out in slow motion, and incredible detail before me. As she neared the crucible I saw how it was to open and she was to fall in. With everything inside of me I screamed for this to change. As she fell, I was amazed to see that she fell not within the iron, but onto a small ferry in the sea beneath that would carry her to shore. I awoke my heart pounding, sweat and tears on my face. I knew that it was a dream, and that it even had a surprise good ending (which never happens), but I could not shake my feelings of dread. I love her. I think that I see her sometimes in a way that no others do…she is so vulnerable. In my frantic protestations as I dreamt I could not stop thinking “she is only a girl. A beautiful, lonely, girl. This misfortune cannot befall her.” It would take pages more to truly describe the play of emotions that transpired as this scene took place, but I feel that this description shall suffice. It is unfortunately these dreams that keep me awake at night. Manny think that I am an insomniac because I am such a busy person but this is not so. I avoid sleep like the plague because it has lost all comfort to me…like a memory of summer devoid of sunshine or green grass. My dreams are haunted by death and torment of those whom I love, myself being powerless to stop whatever may take place. My actions are futile, and always are met with failure. The triggers on my guns never work, bullets fall to the ground short of their mark, and my fists bounce off of enemies as they laugh. Fear pours like liquid ice within my thoughts as I am pursued by relentless beings of untold origin most vile. Demons and spirits combat me at every turn as the darkness crowds in from every angle. You pathetic Christians with your stupid cookie-cutter answers regarding more prayer, or scripture quotation, or knowing my identity in Christ hear this: When you have ridden with darkness on your shoulders revealing to you things that none should see, when they have planted thoughts in memories in your head that NO PERSON should ever have to bear, when they have tormented you day and night, when they have poisoned your thoughts, when they have taken over your actions and done with you what they will, when they have attempted to push you out so that they may use you as a tool most hideous and servile, and when you have felt the pain of their claws clinging desperately to your soul as they are ripped from you THEN my little children, perhaps THEN you will understand that while God may choose to bring freedom and heal wounds, some things can never be forgotten, nor can they be pushed away with any knowledge that you will ever possess. Perhaps then you might have something useful to say to me. Or at least something truly relevant. Until then, please, do not bother me with your well-intentioned but unfortunately meaningless spiritual-babble. I appreciate empathy, but don’t pretend that you speak from true life-experience or wisdom that can bring me some kind of hope. Don’t flatter yourselves to think that you know what I need to “do” to make everything better. Do you seriously think that I am idle as this goes on, taking no thought for the purposes of God within this? I tread my own path as we all must. Compared to most I consider myself quite fortunate that I have so light a cross to bear as of yet. Sleep well little ones.

My Journey

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

The Author of this poem is unknown to me, but it was sent by one of my closest friends during a time of great sorrow and distress. It meant the world to me. Thank you.

Red Velvet

Sometimes hearts rip
tear them
bear them
Sometimes love lies
hear them
fear them
Somtimes love dies
breathe them
leave them
Sometimes we all wonder why

Word Vomit

For sure this motley lot is imbued with the essence of
tantacular tarantulas taunting typhoid fever while
killing me softly with his song most strange colloquial vernacular liaisons
slipping slipping slipping away from you is better than with someone else like
Ghandi eating nothing at all this sick psychotic breakdown fragmenting minds altruism played the fool buried the hatchet never once asking forgiveness giving only regret blessed summer sparrows flight to Capistrano, will you wait for me this night?
the lights have all gone out.

The ziggurat speaks to me of slow sweetness falling all around up and down lost around the time it took to read a book written in the dark by a man seeking blindness finding only the truth in its purest form
stolen silent storms raging teardrops filling phials fastness sealing thoughts defiled leaden bookcases trailing trials it all falls down the grave as death smiles
part ways and share words we all play the game as night passes rose colored glasses reflect the light that haunts your name through mist and shadows ringing gallows the story girl will come today bringing flaxen flowers we
while the hours while pale light gleams as the winter that came through the door of the house with less noise than a mouse or a Grinch stealing Christmas the grayness did creep frosty cold, frosty death, frosted light bulbs to your health molten sunlight living memories calling from the depths clamoring to be heard voiceless eyes burning holes in my head screaming in the nothing that once was so much where I lived there in comfort with warmth filling me, killing me I, tried to stop all the pain and the gain but rage is a bitter master buried deep in my soul filing cracks crannys and holes longing for vengeance sweet bitter release telling tales of the glory lying just out of reach where I kicked to the curb all the plans long laid to rest skipping stones floating on this black lake in my head will you stop? Will you falter? Will there be a last stand? I need hope that in ending, Ill never find you again.

Musings

I seek solace from the dead on cold nights like these. I sit with them and talk of the wonders we’ve seen. There is peace in my questions, though unanswered they remain, as I stare at her grave left in silence unchanged. Christmas lights wink across the street at us now, bathed in moonlight we stare, I regress to a child.


Home.
How long has it been?
Lost as I wander through time
Taking space in my mind
Living listless and shattered in Darkness sublime
Why this Pain?
Why this Strain?
Why this clamorous chorus?
My horror house nightmare while I scream for divorce.
No rest for the weary, neither living nor dead
My sleep is my coffin, how I loathe this soft bed.
Hysteria wakens me, panic my friend
Closed doors, blackened windows, whispered gunshots flesh rends.
Liquid sloth moving, my legs running slow
Pursuit always gaining with resolve for they know
They know, O! They KNOW!
Laughter lights up their eyes
This toy long awaited, something special, surprise!
Gasp for breath little one
For a moments reprise
Drift now here in safety, ignore the dark eyes.



You are fucking insane, overflowing with rage
My words so profane as they spill on the page
Demented and twisted your thoughts filled with ire
Have you lost all your reason? Has your sanity expired?
Answers you wanted, well here’s some that I’ll give:
You’re insufferably psychotic, yet you call me a pig!
You lash out at others in your anger so blind
You drove me away with your tongue serpentine
Small minded myopia free falls in the night
That which once was a blessing, now a curse, lo, a blight
Three cheers for the distance as you’re long out of sight
T’was a time I had wondered, I now know this is right.