not broken; a poem

i am not broken
i am not broken
i am not broken
 i am not broken
i am not broken
i am not broken
i am not bronen
i am not bkoken
i am not broken
i am not  broekn
i am not broek n
i am not btoken
i am not broken
i am not brroken
i am not brtoken
i am not broken
i am not btoken
i am not broken
i am not btroken
i am not broken
i am not broken



maybe if i tell myself that enough
i;ll believe it
but
i am not broken
i am not broken i am not broken
i am
not broken
i am not broken
i am not beoken
 i am not broken




maybe if i tell mysel that enough
i[ll believe that
i am not broken
i am not broekn
i am whole
i am whole
i am whole
i am good
i am good
i dont need fixed
i am good
i dont need fixed
i am enough
i am not broken
i am good
maybe if i tell myself that enough
i'll believe that
bit
bit
bit
but
maybe i am
whole?

happy places

go to your happy place

calm down

focus on the good

words used to--what?

happy places are happy thoughts

happy dreams and images

lies we perpetuate to give empty guidance 

empty rooms filled with empty li--promises

if i had a happy place wouldn't i stay?

things without meaning said with meaning 

still things without meaning

lost in thought

lost in translation

lost in asinine people

where once happy places may stood

now barren thoughts collide 

happy places don't exist

only happy thoughts

happy memories

happy people

going to a falsehood doesn't fix

it only delays 

happy places don't exist

those that make us happy do

to them should we go

not to lies, but to the eyes

that give us meaning and hope

let them fill us up

let them give us life

let them let us live again. 

loss and lost

staring at this blank page
its arrogance taunting me and mocking me
words flitting and fleeting
mind grasping at nothing
not even air
suffocating in the inexplicable drought
drowning in the insurmountable fears
why
why am i like this
why cant i write
why cant i breathe
the blankness drilling in
my soul
lost
dead
gone
why
the taunting and mocking driving me to the edge
lost causes
lost coasts
forever going
never arriving
circles upon circles circling in
crushing me in my own
why
what am i
who am i
crushed by the thoughts
crushed by the lies
crushed by own hubris
hubris that shouldnt be
why
lines fill up the page
lines filled up with lies
lines lying to hide the lies within the lines
why
why
why
why
god why
when will i become i
when will i like i
when will the pain stop
the pain stopped for a moment
a brief time in my existence
but it came back
always coming back
the pain never ceasing
but for moments
why
faltering strength
failing mind
creativity slowing dying
a former husk
a one time being
now
gone
why
fuck
why do the words hurt
why do the words not come
why do the words break
me
why do the words break me
why do the words always break me
why do the words break me
why does life hurt
why doe the sun not shine through
darkness enveloping
slowly choking out all vestiges of what was
the words like blood ever flowing wrong
the mind clotting blocking the words
the veins closed
why
where once was life
now is darkness
where once words sprang
now words die
the blankness taunting me and mocking me
i cant
i cant
i cant
cant what
live
i can
just
barely wanting to hold on
the weight pulling down
the depths calling up
eyes closing
grip relaxing
sliding down
you
you save me
you pull me out
you force me to live
to breathe
to be
but the blankness is still there
always taunting and mocking
never ceasing
never relenting
the pain is still there
never ceasing
never relenting
but you
you
you make it worth it
you make it bearable
and for that
i
i live. 

Life, we must not regret

Life, we must not regret,
for it is all we have
with each word
with each moment
and every action
we create our path.
With every choice
                   right or wrong
we create our future
our paths are our own
no one else gets to make them
At times, we share our path
with people we care about
and others
who we think care
                       but don't
oft-times we walk alone
treasured are those times
we walk in company
but our paths are our own
and our lives to make
Life, we must not regret,
for it is all we have. 

broken help

write something cheerful
for it will make cheerful you who are not
smile until the frown is forgot
ignore the pain -- it won't last
it's just a state of mind
so change your mind -- change your mood
get some more sleep -- you're just tired
you need some fresh air
have a cup of tea
have a drink
have a smoke
Fuck. Off.
Be quiet
I hear enough voice
calling me
demanding me
commanding me
you don't know
you don't understand
these lies you parade as truths demean
                                                 devalue
they add to the struggle
the hindering help you thoughtlessly provide
broken you maim me
broken I am
              broken by the faith I put in you
              broken by the trust I placed in you
              broken by your help
all these lies clambering to help
buried by advice
suffocated by help
the depression wasn't enough to break me
                     maybe your "help" is

The conflication of emotions

Some new poetry for you to sink your eyeballs and mind into. You're welcome for that image! 

1.

Attempting to write again

much like trying to live again

to get the lead flowing

to get the heart pumping

pressure on the page

pressure on the chest

Attempting to write again

trying to live again

are the same things

                                yet different

to write again

to live again

one simply needs

                                                purpose

                

                and a reason

                and a want

maybe you’re my purposereasonwant

maybe you’re not

                but

                     for now

                                               

                                you’re enough for me

               

                                                                to write again.

2.

The pencil, long since fallen

stares sullenly silent

condemning its ultimate betrayer

the writer whose hands forgot it

and whose mind rejected it

rejection stings

                                even a pencil feels pain.

3.

Jumbled thoughts

conflicting emtions

shit. write plainly.

Happiness & dread comingling

in a confusing dance

Joy & fear sparring in the back

fighting for dominance.

worry for one thing

hope for another

neither giving way

neither gaining

locked in a bitter embrace

when time conspired to give joy

                                                it gives the other also

time gives & takes

                                often at the same… 

masking and making

words struck through
lines erased
lies disguised as truths
what words mask
what words make
the same? no
different? no
neither, nor, no
masking the real
making the truth
feelings and thoughts disguised as words.

blank pages

Here I sit
staring at a wall of white
words dammed up
soul damned up
thoughts like a river coursing
-once
now dwindling trickling stopped
blank whiteness searing in
taunting my hand
cursing my mind
words a well fresh water
-poison
so here I sit
words bottled up so long
they’ve become rotten
lost the way
maybe lost the say
ink stains the paper
-yet it does not create

The write right

I need to write

I need to right

But what to write?

And what is right?

Left alone to write

Change wrong to right

Darkness falls yet I write

Shrouding what is right

Cleansing all as I write

To be free is right

To be free is to write

I cannot be right

For I cannot write. 

Reflections at the end: a poem

What will I be at the end of the day?

Will I be strong?

Will I be confident?

Will I be the hero?

                or

      more likely

Will I be weak?

Will I be afraid?

Will I be the villain?

At the end of the day

Will I be able to look in the mirror?

Will what I see frighten me?

                            disgust me?

                            surprise me?

At the end of the day,

When the masks come off

                    costumes come off

What will be left but a reflection?

We heal by love: A poem

                A man was killed last night by those sworn to protect, yet we argue and bicker over the details of a past we know nothing about.

                People argue against hate while hating those who hate others, can’t the hypocrisy be seen?

                We stand up for a better tomorrow, while casting shade on those who disagree.

                We cry at the unjust killing of another, while calling for the death of those responsible.

                Violence begetting violence.

                All the world knows.

                Shouldn’t we be better than our primal natures?

                Or is that all we have left?

                Are we more than what we were?

                Or are we just what we were?

                A man was killed and we blame the person who pulled the trigger—

                Not the system that allows this

                Not the company that makes the gun

                We blame the person.  

                We get mad and we scream and shout.

                We cry for justice

                                                But do we want justice or just revenge?

                So easily confused.

                So easily differentiated.

                People always screaming for justice, while their hearts silently beg for vengeance.

                “Vengeance is mine,” sayeth the Lord.

                “I am the Lord,” sayeth man.

                Who are we to judge and execute

                Who are we when we put ourselves on a higher pedestal?

                We judge ourselves better than those who judge themselves better than those

                Where’s the line?

                Where’s the difference?

                How can we change the world when we cannot change ourselves?

                We want to survive so we stay the course.

                Goin ‘gainst the current is how we drown

                So the current takes us where it wants,

                Washing up on foreign shores,

                We do what we know.

                We do what we need to survive.

                Some of us have guilt so black we take every stand

                Just to wash away some of it

                Just to sleep at night.

                Some of us need to be seen, so we take every stand

                Just so people know us

                Just so we can feel good.

                Some of us have been hurt so bad, we lash out at every stand

                Just to feel something

                Just so other people know how much we hurt.

                Some of us just hate everyone who isn’t us

                So we think they’re lesser

                So we hurt them.

                Some of us are just good, so we take every stand

                So we can help

                So we can make a difference.

                We need to heal each other.

                We need to help each other.

                We heal by educating

                We heal by giving back

                We heal by love. 

Once wrote words written: a poem

Once wrote words written to inspire

Once poetry flowed to evoke

Now words rarely written

Now poetry is but a dry bed

Pages once lined with thoughts

                                  blood

                                  sweat

                                  tears

                                  SOUL

now lined with rote

page after page as useful as a—

                dust mote

Poetry defined and refined

now it simply defies

                                      me

words that convinced and railed against

have become pleas and bargains

pencil scratching paper

lines of graphite erase

the once pure paper debased

selling out to make a name

all to just gain momentary fame

that will fade & wax & wane

leaving nothing

no great legacy

no fond memories

only a forgotten name

                and forgotten words

Once wrote words written to inspire

Once poetry flowed to evoke

Time to begin

                                again

time to be reborn

pencil scratching paper

lines of graphite create

pages lined with thoughts

                                blood

                                sweat

                                tears

                                SOUL

Lined with life again

After Farewells, a poem

After Farewells

"when does the emptiness leave?"
the child asked
the man simply smiled in answer.
"when does the emptiness leave?"
the man asked
the elder simply smiled in answer.
"when does the emptiness leave?"
the elder asked
the god simply smiled in answer.
"when does the emptiness leave?"
the god asked
nothing smiled in answer. 

Night

Light enveloped by the descending dark,

Make treacherous the once sane paths,

The twilight beasts coming hither,

Yearning for a last embrace of sun's loving light,

Steadily on doth the traveller go,

Winding mindfully the myriad miseries,

From each angle could they approach,

Never ceasing, unceasingly eyes darting,

There

                             There

And

          There,

Seemingly the uncommon common everywhere,

Until,

Where once was nothing,

Pinpricks of light descend,

Engulfing the darkness.