“What is a Muse?” Asks a young woman,
As I am longing to purge my soul,
In an attempt to find still,
Quite simply I answer her,
“It is the beautiful flame of inspiration.”
“Why then…” asks the girl,
“Why are you not running toward it?”
And simply I answer,
“For to do so would be to abuse her charity to me!”
“How then…” asks the sweet innocent girl,
“Do you discover her power?”
Quite simply I answer,
“By waking dreams and dreams awake.”
SDM
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Wordplay for my Havanera
These words flow,
As I channel Hemingway, Shakespeare and Neruda,
Closing my eyes so I can see and flutter,
Fingers dancing across the keys,
As loudly Puccini beckons forth,
To take that chance,
Deliverance,
Against convention,
Not like Che captured in Korda’s now infamous picture,
Instead like Comandante,
Trying to seize the Havana of my soul,
And gleefully celebrating,
What I have always known,
And only now can reveal,
Here,
For you,
In this sweet romance.
SDM
As I channel Hemingway, Shakespeare and Neruda,
Closing my eyes so I can see and flutter,
Fingers dancing across the keys,
As loudly Puccini beckons forth,
To take that chance,
Deliverance,
Against convention,
Not like Che captured in Korda’s now infamous picture,
Instead like Comandante,
Trying to seize the Havana of my soul,
And gleefully celebrating,
What I have always known,
And only now can reveal,
Here,
For you,
In this sweet romance.
SDM
For KF - With Many Thanks
In the restless solitude of this languid soul,
I scream out,
Violently to the stars,
Hear me damn you,
Hear me,
And then in a moment of infinite delight,
It screams back at me,
You fool,
The question needed asking,
The begging needed to be pure,
Before you surrendered and allowed the veracity of your gift,
To manifest,
You fool,
As you endure,
I will unleash in kind,
A force in you,
That even you did not know was there,
You fool,
I will give to you all you’ve asked and more,
Now that you have given away,
All there is to give.
The universe then beckons like a mother a child,
Placing the stars around me,
Alignments unclear at first,
Until when fully enveloped,
I forgive myself trespasses,
And sweetly the scent of hope,
As pure as untouched snow,
Or that faint odour of your first loves hair,
Allows joy to crawl from the deepest pit of I and I,
If only for a moment,
You fool,
Let go,
Why are you hanging on to that, which tortures you?
Whispers soft and sublime still singing,
As the peculiar oddities of the brightest invention,
Fall before my eyes,
As I shudder to think,
All I had do was let go,
Of what was never I to begin with.
And then,
With the veracity of the question realized,
The universe claims I,
As its latest prince,
Worthy of the gift of life,
And more importantly,
A love requited,
Bequeathed unequivocally and without condition,
As I now realize,
That in order to shine,
In order to become one,
All the stars align,
As sirens sing a song,
That long I have sought,
But was not yet privileged to hear,
Until I gave in,
In a moment of dire need,
Surrender,
And the stars rejoice,
As the ancients reveal their wisdom,
With sage like fortitude,
And now,
I too will whisper,
In many thanks,
For love.
SDM
I scream out,
Violently to the stars,
Hear me damn you,
Hear me,
And then in a moment of infinite delight,
It screams back at me,
You fool,
The question needed asking,
The begging needed to be pure,
Before you surrendered and allowed the veracity of your gift,
To manifest,
You fool,
As you endure,
I will unleash in kind,
A force in you,
That even you did not know was there,
You fool,
I will give to you all you’ve asked and more,
Now that you have given away,
All there is to give.
The universe then beckons like a mother a child,
Placing the stars around me,
Alignments unclear at first,
Until when fully enveloped,
I forgive myself trespasses,
And sweetly the scent of hope,
As pure as untouched snow,
Or that faint odour of your first loves hair,
Allows joy to crawl from the deepest pit of I and I,
If only for a moment,
You fool,
Let go,
Why are you hanging on to that, which tortures you?
Whispers soft and sublime still singing,
As the peculiar oddities of the brightest invention,
Fall before my eyes,
As I shudder to think,
All I had do was let go,
Of what was never I to begin with.
And then,
With the veracity of the question realized,
The universe claims I,
As its latest prince,
Worthy of the gift of life,
And more importantly,
A love requited,
Bequeathed unequivocally and without condition,
As I now realize,
That in order to shine,
In order to become one,
All the stars align,
As sirens sing a song,
That long I have sought,
But was not yet privileged to hear,
Until I gave in,
In a moment of dire need,
Surrender,
And the stars rejoice,
As the ancients reveal their wisdom,
With sage like fortitude,
And now,
I too will whisper,
In many thanks,
For love.
SDM
Wordplay for my friend OH!
Where can one find the integrity?
To let go of all parts of an identity,
Manufactured, processed, aggrandized,
But not at all genuine,
To finally slow down and accept all parts of me,
Whether good or bad,
Necessary to acknowledge, internalize and accept,
That, which you are,
In an effort to discover,
That which you will become,
A journey that begins each day anew,
One little, simple, profound step at a time,
Without feeling profound,
Though it is,
For our acceptance of self,
The little things count,
Each adding up to implore us ever greater,
To new heights,
Soaring above the clouds,
Where at our own tempo we can fall back to earth,
To uncover that which is so obvious,
Yet is just out of reach,
Until we finally surrender,
Become one with our pain,
Giggle like a child at the struggle,
That ultimately leads to the path,
Where gratitude can make known,
That invisible key,
Unlocking all you have always been,
and presenting the world with a beautiful spirit,
that needed only polish,
and not demise.
SDM
To let go of all parts of an identity,
Manufactured, processed, aggrandized,
But not at all genuine,
To finally slow down and accept all parts of me,
Whether good or bad,
Necessary to acknowledge, internalize and accept,
That, which you are,
In an effort to discover,
That which you will become,
A journey that begins each day anew,
One little, simple, profound step at a time,
Without feeling profound,
Though it is,
For our acceptance of self,
The little things count,
Each adding up to implore us ever greater,
To new heights,
Soaring above the clouds,
Where at our own tempo we can fall back to earth,
To uncover that which is so obvious,
Yet is just out of reach,
Until we finally surrender,
Become one with our pain,
Giggle like a child at the struggle,
That ultimately leads to the path,
Where gratitude can make known,
That invisible key,
Unlocking all you have always been,
and presenting the world with a beautiful spirit,
that needed only polish,
and not demise.
SDM
Wordplay April 3 (from a Western Soul Searching)
Here I stand,
Before you,
Naked as the day I was born,
Revealing to you,
That which you yourself are not willing to explore,
Or so it seems, with most,
Liberated by the eddy that confronts my soul,
Though juxtaposed against a violent swell of deepening sadness,
Of my own design and course,
corrected in eclectic moments, glimpses of sanity,
With five words delivered by true friends far and wide,
Bursting from the page,
My descent to and from madness,
That has released the handcuffs,
I myself had put on my wrists,
Fearing that I was nothing,
No good,
Not able to convince the world around me that this really is what I am meant to be,
No tricks,
No illusions,
Smoke and mirrors of the past,
Giving way to raw emotions that are no longer tempered by ill conceived rationalilzations or my intellect,
Naked,
I stand on the firing line,
Of my own awareness,
Of what I am meant to be,
Can you say the same,
Or does the comfort you know,
Blind you to the opportunity of self,
Unsheathed,
Wielded more powerfully than the Atomic bomb,
In an instant,
You can know,
A design of divine intent,
If only you could see the signs,
That truly are,
Right before your eyes.
SDM
Before you,
Naked as the day I was born,
Revealing to you,
That which you yourself are not willing to explore,
Or so it seems, with most,
Liberated by the eddy that confronts my soul,
Though juxtaposed against a violent swell of deepening sadness,
Of my own design and course,
corrected in eclectic moments, glimpses of sanity,
With five words delivered by true friends far and wide,
Bursting from the page,
My descent to and from madness,
That has released the handcuffs,
I myself had put on my wrists,
Fearing that I was nothing,
No good,
Not able to convince the world around me that this really is what I am meant to be,
No tricks,
No illusions,
Smoke and mirrors of the past,
Giving way to raw emotions that are no longer tempered by ill conceived rationalilzations or my intellect,
Naked,
I stand on the firing line,
Of my own awareness,
Of what I am meant to be,
Can you say the same,
Or does the comfort you know,
Blind you to the opportunity of self,
Unsheathed,
Wielded more powerfully than the Atomic bomb,
In an instant,
You can know,
A design of divine intent,
If only you could see the signs,
That truly are,
Right before your eyes.
SDM
Wordplay April 2 (From a Woman with the Strength of Hercules who found love...in me CH)
Reaching into my pockets,
Empty,
I grasp the full meaning of nothing and everything,
For though, as I’ve said before,
I may not be rich,
But surely I am the wealthiest man alive,
For from me springs truth, conviction, inspiration and love,
And what more do we really need? Thus,
Call me the emotional Carnegie,
Whose baggage,
Though heavy and burdensome,
Is daily growing lighter,
And like a feather,
I will fly.
Unpleasant these moments,
Those have sunk me into the deepest pit of despair,
And yet,
These mixed emotions are tempered, tempered in an unrelenting faith,
That I can and will emerge from this tumult,
Liberated,
Free to roam,
And hopeful that I can take in,
The sweet breathe of spring,
The delightful sweet caress of grass,
And the swooning song of birds in flight
Filled with delight and renewal.
Electric,
Each sensation that taps my soul,
And begs me out,
Into the world from which I disengaged,
Feverishly contemplative of the state of man to find some answer for ME,
my veins flow with the wisdom of the ages,
That at present I cannot comprehend,
As my emotional Rosetta stone is missing fragments,
That would easily explain,
This path I am on,
Yet easy, is not always best.
I have become death, the destroyer of worlds,
Countless creations of ego and id,
Longing to create,
That perfect picture, though perfect it can never be,
For I now know I am always to be a work in progress,
And have works progressing,
And it seems, that I can find solace,
In that recognition,
At least for now,
As I have realized I am the Coalition of the Willing,
Willing to roam,
Willing to try,
Willing to fly,
Willing to surrender to years of anguish,
Before in this spring,
I am born anew.
My greatest joy,
An unconditional love of humanity,
Though I must accept,
The fact that the imperfection of our lives,
Is the grist that makes a man of boys?
And a beautiful woman of little girls,
Desiring that we all could stay in that land of innocence,
Of playground tag,
And sandbox love,
That for every laugh,
There must be a tear,
For every fear,
There is a conquering faith,
For every sadness,
There is a flower in spring,
A snowflake and rain,
For life truly is one equal and opposite action after another,
And my action now,
Is to allow,
Gracefully,
My subconscious to join the Neanderthal,
So that I might stand erect,
Tall and proud,
Acknowledging flaw and fault,
Gift and greatness,
For I am here,
Alive,
Restless and wandering,
Into the hitherto unknown,
Fighting all the way,
To the world I long to know.
Don’t you want to know?
Dream with me!
SDM
Empty,
I grasp the full meaning of nothing and everything,
For though, as I’ve said before,
I may not be rich,
But surely I am the wealthiest man alive,
For from me springs truth, conviction, inspiration and love,
And what more do we really need? Thus,
Call me the emotional Carnegie,
Whose baggage,
Though heavy and burdensome,
Is daily growing lighter,
And like a feather,
I will fly.
Unpleasant these moments,
Those have sunk me into the deepest pit of despair,
And yet,
These mixed emotions are tempered, tempered in an unrelenting faith,
That I can and will emerge from this tumult,
Liberated,
Free to roam,
And hopeful that I can take in,
The sweet breathe of spring,
The delightful sweet caress of grass,
And the swooning song of birds in flight
Filled with delight and renewal.
Electric,
Each sensation that taps my soul,
And begs me out,
Into the world from which I disengaged,
Feverishly contemplative of the state of man to find some answer for ME,
my veins flow with the wisdom of the ages,
That at present I cannot comprehend,
As my emotional Rosetta stone is missing fragments,
That would easily explain,
This path I am on,
Yet easy, is not always best.
I have become death, the destroyer of worlds,
Countless creations of ego and id,
Longing to create,
That perfect picture, though perfect it can never be,
For I now know I am always to be a work in progress,
And have works progressing,
And it seems, that I can find solace,
In that recognition,
At least for now,
As I have realized I am the Coalition of the Willing,
Willing to roam,
Willing to try,
Willing to fly,
Willing to surrender to years of anguish,
Before in this spring,
I am born anew.
My greatest joy,
An unconditional love of humanity,
Though I must accept,
The fact that the imperfection of our lives,
Is the grist that makes a man of boys?
And a beautiful woman of little girls,
Desiring that we all could stay in that land of innocence,
Of playground tag,
And sandbox love,
That for every laugh,
There must be a tear,
For every fear,
There is a conquering faith,
For every sadness,
There is a flower in spring,
A snowflake and rain,
For life truly is one equal and opposite action after another,
And my action now,
Is to allow,
Gracefully,
My subconscious to join the Neanderthal,
So that I might stand erect,
Tall and proud,
Acknowledging flaw and fault,
Gift and greatness,
For I am here,
Alive,
Restless and wandering,
Into the hitherto unknown,
Fighting all the way,
To the world I long to know.
Don’t you want to know?
Dream with me!
SDM
Wordplay 1 April 3 (Aga)
A chosen outsider existing on the fringe,
I must acknowledge and accept,
The facts of life as they are,
And not as I want them to be,
Marginalized by those who abused me,
Utilizing the very essence of my spirit,
To propel their cause,
I lost my way and felt a surreal pain,
Growing ever more suspicious inside me,
As if Dali’s brush was painting my sorrow,
Illuminating the darkest gates,
Of my tattered existence,
That only in surrender has begun the reprieve of mind,
Like only Picasso could,
Longing for Matisse to take a stroke,
As Pollack laughs in the distance.
Restless I drift,
In moments of lucidity,
Followed by others of anguish so raw,
That questions tear at the fabric of my knowledge of self,
Where others may have caved in,
Given themselves to the demons beckoning them and I,
To the first circle of hell,
A virtuous pagan,
Seeking redemption in these simple words.
Everywhere I have travelled,
I have carried the burden,
That has held me in place since a child,
The world my oyster,
But never a pearl revealed,
I look at the world with wanderlust,
Screaming to the heavens,
Begging for a place that I can truly call home,
Seeking it from within,
Not finding it externally.
Nowhere have I found,
The security of self,
To acknowledge the golden truth,
That so plainly presents itself,
Now that I have surrendered,
I had to surrender,
Acknowledge the hurt,
Feel it,
Embrace it,
Without allowing it to destroy me,
Which it so clearly has tried to do?
And in that struggle I am beginning to remerge,
Not pointing fingers at the world,
Rather giving it a magnifying glass,
To peer deep within my own fears,
Why the only question that really matters,
When I so clearly would rather create than destroy,
But in my shattering moment,
My souls destruction,
Has given way to rebirth,
Creation of self,
In the image of my own design.
A restless outsider in search of home,
Realizing,
That home is everywhere and nowhere,
So long as I surrender,
The passionate fire inside of me,
More useful than the circles of hell,
For now I define myself,
As I always should have,
And in that self liberation,
I can become,
What I know I should be,
And I display it here for you.
I must acknowledge and accept,
The facts of life as they are,
And not as I want them to be,
Marginalized by those who abused me,
Utilizing the very essence of my spirit,
To propel their cause,
I lost my way and felt a surreal pain,
Growing ever more suspicious inside me,
As if Dali’s brush was painting my sorrow,
Illuminating the darkest gates,
Of my tattered existence,
That only in surrender has begun the reprieve of mind,
Like only Picasso could,
Longing for Matisse to take a stroke,
As Pollack laughs in the distance.
Restless I drift,
In moments of lucidity,
Followed by others of anguish so raw,
That questions tear at the fabric of my knowledge of self,
Where others may have caved in,
Given themselves to the demons beckoning them and I,
To the first circle of hell,
A virtuous pagan,
Seeking redemption in these simple words.
Everywhere I have travelled,
I have carried the burden,
That has held me in place since a child,
The world my oyster,
But never a pearl revealed,
I look at the world with wanderlust,
Screaming to the heavens,
Begging for a place that I can truly call home,
Seeking it from within,
Not finding it externally.
Nowhere have I found,
The security of self,
To acknowledge the golden truth,
That so plainly presents itself,
Now that I have surrendered,
I had to surrender,
Acknowledge the hurt,
Feel it,
Embrace it,
Without allowing it to destroy me,
Which it so clearly has tried to do?
And in that struggle I am beginning to remerge,
Not pointing fingers at the world,
Rather giving it a magnifying glass,
To peer deep within my own fears,
Why the only question that really matters,
When I so clearly would rather create than destroy,
But in my shattering moment,
My souls destruction,
Has given way to rebirth,
Creation of self,
In the image of my own design.
A restless outsider in search of home,
Realizing,
That home is everywhere and nowhere,
So long as I surrender,
The passionate fire inside of me,
More useful than the circles of hell,
For now I define myself,
As I always should have,
And in that self liberation,
I can become,
What I know I should be,
And I display it here for you.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Wordplay for my dear friend... Aga 2
In my own self loathing and ignorance of me,
It is so easy to assign blame to the world at large,
For that which thrust me to the edge,
Where on the precipice,
I could gaze at the void before me,
And spit vitriol,
At any that would listen,
The void that they led me to,
With false hopes and faded promises,
Instead I retreat,
Into my own isolation,
Broken not beaten,
Trying to rejoin my spirit,
Which, momentarily, left my body,
Falling prey and victim,
To the cruel and calculated words that struck me,
Like daggers in the heart,
As my soul bled all over the floor,
Staining more than my ego,
Silence.
In that retreat,
I did not surrender to the darker places in me,
That begged me to give in,
That entreated me to lose all will,
And fall into that devilish place,
Where Gabriel roams,
And Gollum screams of precious,
For surely in the pits of hell,
Or Mordor,
I can see clearly,
What that place begged of me,
Like a game of chess,
Treating me like a pawn,
But no longer will I accept that place,
Those desires,
That are not my own.
Rather a veiled attempt,
To force my hand,
And make me give in,
No I say,
I will not.
Drained,
By years of inconsequence,
By people who cared not for me,
Instead using me like a tool,
A hoe or a rake,
A mouthpiece,
A vehicle for their success,
Knowing the full while,
That I was struggling to survive,
They eating from their silver platters,
My eating soup and crackers,
The scent of an alcohol soaked stairwell forever etched on my mind,
No more I say,
No more.
They say that fame is fleeting,
And yet in this hyper celebritized culture,
All are seeking their fifteen minutes,
Warhol said so,
And Campbell’s must be right,
Or Mao,
Or Marilyn,
My internal clock reads the time,
And my fifteen minutes haven’t yet begun,
My destiny starts now,
Here,
With you,
Would you like to come?
SDM
It is so easy to assign blame to the world at large,
For that which thrust me to the edge,
Where on the precipice,
I could gaze at the void before me,
And spit vitriol,
At any that would listen,
The void that they led me to,
With false hopes and faded promises,
Instead I retreat,
Into my own isolation,
Broken not beaten,
Trying to rejoin my spirit,
Which, momentarily, left my body,
Falling prey and victim,
To the cruel and calculated words that struck me,
Like daggers in the heart,
As my soul bled all over the floor,
Staining more than my ego,
Silence.
In that retreat,
I did not surrender to the darker places in me,
That begged me to give in,
That entreated me to lose all will,
And fall into that devilish place,
Where Gabriel roams,
And Gollum screams of precious,
For surely in the pits of hell,
Or Mordor,
I can see clearly,
What that place begged of me,
Like a game of chess,
Treating me like a pawn,
But no longer will I accept that place,
Those desires,
That are not my own.
Rather a veiled attempt,
To force my hand,
And make me give in,
No I say,
I will not.
Drained,
By years of inconsequence,
By people who cared not for me,
Instead using me like a tool,
A hoe or a rake,
A mouthpiece,
A vehicle for their success,
Knowing the full while,
That I was struggling to survive,
They eating from their silver platters,
My eating soup and crackers,
The scent of an alcohol soaked stairwell forever etched on my mind,
No more I say,
No more.
They say that fame is fleeting,
And yet in this hyper celebritized culture,
All are seeking their fifteen minutes,
Warhol said so,
And Campbell’s must be right,
Or Mao,
Or Marilyn,
My internal clock reads the time,
And my fifteen minutes haven’t yet begun,
My destiny starts now,
Here,
With you,
Would you like to come?
SDM
Wordplay for my dear friend... Aga
My fellow citizens of the universe,
May I entreat you for a moment or more,
To come with me on a journey,
For it is the steps and not the destination,
Which so often reveal that character that we are,
Rather than the character we long to be,
True understanding of self,
As the Oracle of Delphi proclaimed in stone, at its gate,
Nosce Te Ipsum,
Know Thyself,
And I promise you that journey will expose,
The awe and wonder of a child,
Should you let it,
Desire no longer obscured,
As clarity is the mother of invention,
That voice which seemingly haunts,
Does so from a lack of understanding and an unwillingness to surrender,
Of self,
There in the shadows lurking,
You prevent yourself from being,
That which you know you should be,
Thus trapped inside an enigma,
That needn’t even exist,
Ask the question,
Feel the pain,
Free your mind,
And allow your voice,
To proclaim to the world,
This is who I am,
This is who I am meant to be,
And I will not give up,
I will not give in,
I will not stop,
Until I can scream from mountains high,
MY DREAMS FULFILLED ARE YOUR GUIDE POSTS.
Follow me.
SDM
May I entreat you for a moment or more,
To come with me on a journey,
For it is the steps and not the destination,
Which so often reveal that character that we are,
Rather than the character we long to be,
True understanding of self,
As the Oracle of Delphi proclaimed in stone, at its gate,
Nosce Te Ipsum,
Know Thyself,
And I promise you that journey will expose,
The awe and wonder of a child,
Should you let it,
Desire no longer obscured,
As clarity is the mother of invention,
That voice which seemingly haunts,
Does so from a lack of understanding and an unwillingness to surrender,
Of self,
There in the shadows lurking,
You prevent yourself from being,
That which you know you should be,
Thus trapped inside an enigma,
That needn’t even exist,
Ask the question,
Feel the pain,
Free your mind,
And allow your voice,
To proclaim to the world,
This is who I am,
This is who I am meant to be,
And I will not give up,
I will not give in,
I will not stop,
Until I can scream from mountains high,
MY DREAMS FULFILLED ARE YOUR GUIDE POSTS.
Follow me.
SDM
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Wordplay 4 April 1
Jump,
You won’t regret it my mind whispers ever louder,
Find the safety of letting go,
Surrendering to the freedom that the universe beckons,
Softly and deftly,
Reveal yourself and all will be right,
It will work,
Come on you fool,
Accept what you already know to be true,
Stop fighting that which is obvious,
Refuse to allow your mental injunction,
To be the impasse that prevents you,
From seizing who you really are,
Never, never, never,
Let that too big for your own good brain,
Keep you in place,
Keep you from realizing all that you are meant to be,
Stand up,
Be afraid,
Embrace that fear,
Engage in the delight that so freely flows,
Not just in these words,
But shining plain as day,
In those bright blue eyes,
Jump,
Jump you fool,
Find out who you really are,
No regrets,
Not one,
Join the tea party,
As the Madhatter,
Don’t be late,
For that very important date,
With your destiny,
Go,
Jump,
You can do it,
Beaten to be sure,
Bruised and battered,
Both seen and unseen,
Embrace the pain,
The darkened purple that resembles the gashes of your soul,
JUMP,
I won’t regret it,
It is time to own,
My important date,
My destiny,
On my terms,
TODAY!
SDM
You won’t regret it my mind whispers ever louder,
Find the safety of letting go,
Surrendering to the freedom that the universe beckons,
Softly and deftly,
Reveal yourself and all will be right,
It will work,
Come on you fool,
Accept what you already know to be true,
Stop fighting that which is obvious,
Refuse to allow your mental injunction,
To be the impasse that prevents you,
From seizing who you really are,
Never, never, never,
Let that too big for your own good brain,
Keep you in place,
Keep you from realizing all that you are meant to be,
Stand up,
Be afraid,
Embrace that fear,
Engage in the delight that so freely flows,
Not just in these words,
But shining plain as day,
In those bright blue eyes,
Jump,
Jump you fool,
Find out who you really are,
No regrets,
Not one,
Join the tea party,
As the Madhatter,
Don’t be late,
For that very important date,
With your destiny,
Go,
Jump,
You can do it,
Beaten to be sure,
Bruised and battered,
Both seen and unseen,
Embrace the pain,
The darkened purple that resembles the gashes of your soul,
JUMP,
I won’t regret it,
It is time to own,
My important date,
My destiny,
On my terms,
TODAY!
SDM
Wordplay 3 April 1
Where am I?
Where did I go?
Where am I going?
Where is happiness? Sadness?
Where is that switch that I can throw?
Where are the open arms to greet you when you most need them?
Where is the end to all this madness?
When am I going to grow up?
When am I going to be comfortable in my own skin?
When am I going to understand that I can’t change others?
When am I going to learn that they can’t change me?
When am I going to accept what I was put on earth to do?
When will someone else see?
Why was I born this way?
Why does there need to be so much suffering?
Why can’t I close my eyes and dream like others?
Why can’t I live my dreams awake?
Why can’t I find the answer to the question I also can’t find?
Why did it all hit me at once?
Why do I have to grow up instead of old?
What is the meaning of it all?
What is it that I did wrong?
What is it that leaves me feeling this way?
What is it that I just can’t grasp about that which I can’t explain?
What is out there?
What is the question?
How am I going to open my eyes?
How can I engage my soul?
How can I engage yours?
How can I become that which I have always known?
How can I find peace when all around me is violent?
How can this be?
How do you know that tomorrow will be better?
How do you find freedom?
How?
SDM
Where did I go?
Where am I going?
Where is happiness? Sadness?
Where is that switch that I can throw?
Where are the open arms to greet you when you most need them?
Where is the end to all this madness?
When am I going to grow up?
When am I going to be comfortable in my own skin?
When am I going to understand that I can’t change others?
When am I going to learn that they can’t change me?
When am I going to accept what I was put on earth to do?
When will someone else see?
Why was I born this way?
Why does there need to be so much suffering?
Why can’t I close my eyes and dream like others?
Why can’t I live my dreams awake?
Why can’t I find the answer to the question I also can’t find?
Why did it all hit me at once?
Why do I have to grow up instead of old?
What is the meaning of it all?
What is it that I did wrong?
What is it that leaves me feeling this way?
What is it that I just can’t grasp about that which I can’t explain?
What is out there?
What is the question?
How am I going to open my eyes?
How can I engage my soul?
How can I engage yours?
How can I become that which I have always known?
How can I find peace when all around me is violent?
How can this be?
How do you know that tomorrow will be better?
How do you find freedom?
How?
SDM
Wordplay 2 April 1
Mounting my life like a horse,
I channel the spirit of cowboys past,
Yearning for one solid canter,
Away from this mental anguish,
Anxiety and angst filling my soul,
As I try to reclaim the wild stallion,
That exists just beyond my reach,
Riding through the foothills of my own consciousness,
I sense the growing mountains that stand before me,
Knowing that I must climb,
In order to find that spirit laid dormant,
In the moments that I most needed,
Crossing the range to the next challenge,
I find solace in my own attempt,
To step through the gates of my own identity,
Tearing down the barriers,
That stand between I and I,
When in the distance I see,
The last fence that I must jump,
To again reclaim my body, spirit and mind.
SDM
I channel the spirit of cowboys past,
Yearning for one solid canter,
Away from this mental anguish,
Anxiety and angst filling my soul,
As I try to reclaim the wild stallion,
That exists just beyond my reach,
Riding through the foothills of my own consciousness,
I sense the growing mountains that stand before me,
Knowing that I must climb,
In order to find that spirit laid dormant,
In the moments that I most needed,
Crossing the range to the next challenge,
I find solace in my own attempt,
To step through the gates of my own identity,
Tearing down the barriers,
That stand between I and I,
When in the distance I see,
The last fence that I must jump,
To again reclaim my body, spirit and mind.
SDM
Wordplay 1 April 1
For so long my wagon hitched to a star,
Crossing the universe at the speed of light,
Able to seal of those sounds of silence,
That ring in my ears ruefully,
Holding me in place,
Yet the sky moving around me,
Stuck.
As I try to repatriate,
My own constitution,
I shudder at the thoughts of me,
Continuing to haunt my mind,
Pulling in multiple directions,
All at once,
And not at all sure which way to turn.
The berries of juniper,
My ceaseless emotions,
Fueling my veins,
Like a dry gin martini,
Drunk by my endless thoughts,
Sobering to the reality,
That I need to chart my course,
By something other than Orion’s Belt.
Unlike the motorways,
Leading from countless big cities,
To the relative safety of the burbs,
My mental motorways,
Lead my down equal paths of dark and light,
As I continue to thrive and strive,
To fight another day.
Feeling like a hedgehog,
Small and with little defense,
Than a spine so small,
That it shrinks into itself,
With the heart of a lion,
I live to fight,
I will fight,
I AM FIGHT,
And tomorrow is another day
SDM
Crossing the universe at the speed of light,
Able to seal of those sounds of silence,
That ring in my ears ruefully,
Holding me in place,
Yet the sky moving around me,
Stuck.
As I try to repatriate,
My own constitution,
I shudder at the thoughts of me,
Continuing to haunt my mind,
Pulling in multiple directions,
All at once,
And not at all sure which way to turn.
The berries of juniper,
My ceaseless emotions,
Fueling my veins,
Like a dry gin martini,
Drunk by my endless thoughts,
Sobering to the reality,
That I need to chart my course,
By something other than Orion’s Belt.
Unlike the motorways,
Leading from countless big cities,
To the relative safety of the burbs,
My mental motorways,
Lead my down equal paths of dark and light,
As I continue to thrive and strive,
To fight another day.
Feeling like a hedgehog,
Small and with little defense,
Than a spine so small,
That it shrinks into itself,
With the heart of a lion,
I live to fight,
I will fight,
I AM FIGHT,
And tomorrow is another day
SDM
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Wordplay 3 March 30
Seemingly those creative juices,
That for so long laid dormant,
Or more accurately ignored,
Are bubbling over,
As I purge myself of two years of built up tension,
Fresh with a new idea, every minute or more,
One would assume that on this bright spring day,
I would be cheerful,
And yet I am left,
Angry,
Disturbed,
Ashamed,
And plain as day,
For all to see,
Longing to be like the birdies flying,
Free.
SDM
That for so long laid dormant,
Or more accurately ignored,
Are bubbling over,
As I purge myself of two years of built up tension,
Fresh with a new idea, every minute or more,
One would assume that on this bright spring day,
I would be cheerful,
And yet I am left,
Angry,
Disturbed,
Ashamed,
And plain as day,
For all to see,
Longing to be like the birdies flying,
Free.
SDM
Wordplay 2 March 30
Considering space and time,
In this period of renewal,
As light hits me from so long ago,
The suns rays travelling their course,
To greet me with a warmth that has been missing for so long,
I retreat into the safety of its glow,
Looking for the first spring blossoms,
As the flowers get ready for their first peek,
Off in the distance,
Like Gump’s flower,
I see the white fragments like soft fallen snow,
Fluttering through the air,
And reminding of me of a bygone time,
Yellow daffodils seemingly only minutes away,
Though I know I must be patient,
With them and myself,
And soon they will arrive,
Trumpeted by the crocuses,
And framed by the children,
Running free,
Filled with laughter,
Their joy palpable,
And so I return,
For a moment,
To a better time and place.
SDM
In this period of renewal,
As light hits me from so long ago,
The suns rays travelling their course,
To greet me with a warmth that has been missing for so long,
I retreat into the safety of its glow,
Looking for the first spring blossoms,
As the flowers get ready for their first peek,
Off in the distance,
Like Gump’s flower,
I see the white fragments like soft fallen snow,
Fluttering through the air,
And reminding of me of a bygone time,
Yellow daffodils seemingly only minutes away,
Though I know I must be patient,
With them and myself,
And soon they will arrive,
Trumpeted by the crocuses,
And framed by the children,
Running free,
Filled with laughter,
Their joy palpable,
And so I return,
For a moment,
To a better time and place.
SDM
Wordplay March 30
At the altar of my discontent,
I bob and weave,
Through the web of deceit,
That rings more true than anything before it,
I struggle to see through the mist,
As I roam through thoughts of yesterday,
And beliefs of tomorrow,
Grounded in nothing,
And everything all at once,
The labyrinth of my mind,
A maze from which I am attempting to emerge,
Reborn,
Christened like a new born baby,
Praising at the church of words,
As I ascend,
The staircase of my soul,
On to another place,
Far from here,
And yet,
Right around the corner.
SDM
I bob and weave,
Through the web of deceit,
That rings more true than anything before it,
I struggle to see through the mist,
As I roam through thoughts of yesterday,
And beliefs of tomorrow,
Grounded in nothing,
And everything all at once,
The labyrinth of my mind,
A maze from which I am attempting to emerge,
Reborn,
Christened like a new born baby,
Praising at the church of words,
As I ascend,
The staircase of my soul,
On to another place,
Far from here,
And yet,
Right around the corner.
SDM
Monday, March 29, 2010
Wordplay 3 March 29
Caught in an incessant landslide of emotional revolt,
My intellect grapples with the impossible,
For what sanity is there to be found in a crippled state of delusion,.
The presumptuous clinging to a life that is no longer possible,
For change is going to come.
Longing to find something relevant,
In that which defies understanding and logic,
Rocking back and forth in my mind,
As space and time envelop me,
In a blanket no longer comfortable,
So I reach for galaxies untold,
In hope that maybe there…
The instinctive resonance of my fingers gliding,
Across a once empty page,
Reaction more than action,
As I close in on that one thing, that one moment,
And then…
Its gone.
As if fighting a champions brawl,
I am left to consider the sucker punch thrown,
In the bloodbath of my souls desires,
Clear and uncertain,
Definite and unkind.
Did I miss the cue?
Somehow in my confused state,
Did I zig instead of zag,
And so I cry out:
Which way am I to go?
Can anyone tell me?
I NEED TO KNOW!
Perhaps these words are easier,
Now that my emotions run free,
Or because I do not need to open my mouth,
Changing a read to some verbal onslaught,
Of a tortured soul,
That laments the days when all seemed so certain,
And all at once it was not… for I still sit here,
Troubled.
As Beethoven’s 7th,
Runs through every vein in my body,
My blood flowing with the anger,
That delicate and beautiful anger,
The soft misery of my immortal beloved,
The words that I so long to find relevant,
To reveal,
An answer that is not there,
That which amounted to my own sense,
Of an intrinsic value,
It is not there…
That opinion of self,
So ravaged and pulled apart by this wretched spree,
Torn and tattered at the crossroads of life,
No destination,
Just a journey,
No book ends,
Just… questions, and then more,
Ever elusive as I write,
Awaiting the perfect bargain,
Without a bang,
Denouement,
The writers salvation.
SDM
My intellect grapples with the impossible,
For what sanity is there to be found in a crippled state of delusion,.
The presumptuous clinging to a life that is no longer possible,
For change is going to come.
Longing to find something relevant,
In that which defies understanding and logic,
Rocking back and forth in my mind,
As space and time envelop me,
In a blanket no longer comfortable,
So I reach for galaxies untold,
In hope that maybe there…
The instinctive resonance of my fingers gliding,
Across a once empty page,
Reaction more than action,
As I close in on that one thing, that one moment,
And then…
Its gone.
As if fighting a champions brawl,
I am left to consider the sucker punch thrown,
In the bloodbath of my souls desires,
Clear and uncertain,
Definite and unkind.
Did I miss the cue?
Somehow in my confused state,
Did I zig instead of zag,
And so I cry out:
Which way am I to go?
Can anyone tell me?
I NEED TO KNOW!
Perhaps these words are easier,
Now that my emotions run free,
Or because I do not need to open my mouth,
Changing a read to some verbal onslaught,
Of a tortured soul,
That laments the days when all seemed so certain,
And all at once it was not… for I still sit here,
Troubled.
As Beethoven’s 7th,
Runs through every vein in my body,
My blood flowing with the anger,
That delicate and beautiful anger,
The soft misery of my immortal beloved,
The words that I so long to find relevant,
To reveal,
An answer that is not there,
That which amounted to my own sense,
Of an intrinsic value,
It is not there…
That opinion of self,
So ravaged and pulled apart by this wretched spree,
Torn and tattered at the crossroads of life,
No destination,
Just a journey,
No book ends,
Just… questions, and then more,
Ever elusive as I write,
Awaiting the perfect bargain,
Without a bang,
Denouement,
The writers salvation.
SDM
Wordplay 2 March 29
Inside a fire burns,
Embers sparking a new respect,
For all the words I’ve known and shared,
Each little poem, essay or story,
A piece of myself,
Like a grain of sand on an ever growing beach,
Or a tiny stone on a country gravel road,
That defies description.
Perhaps in knowing this past,
My current state is stained,
By a horrible feeling,
That I have somehow met a plateau,
From which I cannot escape,
No matter how hard I try,
Leaving me in a sinking state,
That defies description.
My mind,
Tattered and torn,
Revealing little to me now,
As I struggle to lift myself,
Out of the pits of despair,
Anxiety and angst,
Constantly growing,
And every once and a while,
A stunning retreat,
For a moment of clarity,
On this winding road of life,
That defies description.
Returning to my past words,
Again I fall into,
The conduit generator,
Of five words or more,
To deliver me a mechanism.
That allows me to purge these feelings deep,
An act of sedition against myself,
That defies description.
Championing the ability to move,
Even if for only a moment,
Or to go outside,
To wake up,
To once again rejoin the world,
Triumphant,
Ignoring rejection,
And pressing on,
Searching for the flagstones,
To lay a foundation of me,
To explore,
That I might find something that can be described.
SDM
Embers sparking a new respect,
For all the words I’ve known and shared,
Each little poem, essay or story,
A piece of myself,
Like a grain of sand on an ever growing beach,
Or a tiny stone on a country gravel road,
That defies description.
Perhaps in knowing this past,
My current state is stained,
By a horrible feeling,
That I have somehow met a plateau,
From which I cannot escape,
No matter how hard I try,
Leaving me in a sinking state,
That defies description.
My mind,
Tattered and torn,
Revealing little to me now,
As I struggle to lift myself,
Out of the pits of despair,
Anxiety and angst,
Constantly growing,
And every once and a while,
A stunning retreat,
For a moment of clarity,
On this winding road of life,
That defies description.
Returning to my past words,
Again I fall into,
The conduit generator,
Of five words or more,
To deliver me a mechanism.
That allows me to purge these feelings deep,
An act of sedition against myself,
That defies description.
Championing the ability to move,
Even if for only a moment,
Or to go outside,
To wake up,
To once again rejoin the world,
Triumphant,
Ignoring rejection,
And pressing on,
Searching for the flagstones,
To lay a foundation of me,
To explore,
That I might find something that can be described.
SDM
Wordplay 1 March 29
Within me lay a towering force,
That presently I am unable to control,
Not quite able to put my finger on it,
I contemplate the past, present and future,
Searching for some answer,
That might free me from this terrible spot.
The photographs of my mind,
Dimly lit and shadowed,
Faces not exactly clear,
As I attempt to flee,
From this current state,
Rambunctious as I try,
To no avail.
How do I long to return,
To some understandable sense of myself,
No longer slave to uncontrollable emotions,
And the unrelenting tears that follow,
Pleading with myself,
To reveal that spirit true,
Wandering and wondering,
When again will I know,
The shine within,
Effervescent for all the world to see,
Plain as day.
SDM
That presently I am unable to control,
Not quite able to put my finger on it,
I contemplate the past, present and future,
Searching for some answer,
That might free me from this terrible spot.
The photographs of my mind,
Dimly lit and shadowed,
Faces not exactly clear,
As I attempt to flee,
From this current state,
Rambunctious as I try,
To no avail.
How do I long to return,
To some understandable sense of myself,
No longer slave to uncontrollable emotions,
And the unrelenting tears that follow,
Pleading with myself,
To reveal that spirit true,
Wandering and wondering,
When again will I know,
The shine within,
Effervescent for all the world to see,
Plain as day.
SDM
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
