Unspoken
by Patricia Harris
I have forgotten how
much I enjoyed
the wprds that were
a river flowing from my mind.
so much to say
I somehow never
expected the world
to kill the joy in words
I could so easily find ...
struck dumb in the face
of what was humanity revealed,
I hated what I found.
it was easier for me
to live in the unspoken
then to fight cruelty all over again.
I am seeing so many people argue about the truth lately. No one has any idea about what it is anymore. Here is what the truth is.
the truth is personal,
perspective skewed,
and always changing.
It is political as Hell
and painfully littered with bias
It is so powerful
and passionate about what it knows,
it is pure and simple
It always grows.
it is ego
it is faith
it is standing your ground
and it really gets around.
no one can tell you
what your truth is
no one knows it but you.
Tuesday I mentioned that I was going in for an MRI. I said I would explain it today.
I have always called my issues with closed spaces Claustrophobia. I knew where I got the fear from…but NOTHING I did could overcome that. Someone once told me that there was two types of fear. The kind where you are in a life or death situation and the type where you can overcome it. For my brain the being locked in somewhere is a life or death situation. It is not Claustrophobia in the normal sense though. I told my therapist about it, and the panic that just the thought of the MRI was giving me…and she identified it as a PTSD trigger.
I survived the test. It wasn’t even as bad as I had expected it to be. It was not as bad as previous MRI’s have been. Maybe that is because I was able to prepare. I was able to compartmentalize and tell myself I was not in danger. I am no longer the nine year old child being locked in the trunk of a car and being told I will die. I am healing.
Moonlight Muse
by Serena Mossgraves
As the moonlight illuminates
the world around me,
that is when my muse awakens.
Though the whole world
is closing its eyes,
and I find myself wanting
to settle in weak and weary…
the muse is insistent
I pickup the pen
and bleed again .
Lyrics –
Cut me open and you’ll find
A brain, heart, liver, lungs
And a knife in the spine
It’s chilling to know that the last place you go
Might be where the fat lady sings
Does it hurt? I don’t know, and where do we go?
We don’t tease fragile minds with such things
So sell me down the river
First help me sell my soul
It’s something I know I can deliver
I think we’ve finally broke the mold
It’s getting harder to know if I’m sane
My issues are leaking outside of my veins
Somebody save me or end me
I haven’t yet made up my mind
If it leads to paranoia, boy, you might want to hit the floor
Before exposure leads to a metamorphosis we can’t ignore
Lost in the whisper and hung on a prayer
If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there
So sell me down the river
First help me sell my soul
It’s something I know I can deliver
I think we’ve finally broke the mold
Will I be an end to someone’s destiny?
Who’s to know?
And will I give right in to my aggression?
Who’s to know?
Will I fall apart all alone
Who’s to know?
Or will I shine right through
And lay this hate to rest with all of you?
So sell me down the river (down the river)
First help me sell my soul
It’s something I know I can deliver (I can deliver)
I think we’ve finally broke the mold
My 2 cents –
today I have an mri. I will try to explain in my Thursday post ….but I am trying to keep the panic away right now .
The Language of Poetry
by Patricia Harris
it seems like poetry
is so out of reach,
the language oft
dark and deep.
the poet's soul
broken into metaphor
and need,
written in a language
only the heart can read.
okay Tomorrow is Valentines day.
The history is interesting, but I have issues with the implementation.
Dates don’t have to be expensive. the best dates I have had were sitting down by the creek and talking.
the pressure to buying gifts for each other is really uncomfortable.
I enjoy buying gifts and getting gifts without the strings attached.
I would rather capitalism not control my life.
Pull the strings
by Serena Mossgraves
The political voice
spreading propaganda
is putting more darkness
out across the land.
It is time again for us
to light up the world
with a creative plan.
Turn on the light,
spread joy as far
as you can.
pull the strings
on the last lamp
and illuminate the lies
before they take hold.
Lyrics –
‘Thou shalt not kill.
Thou shalt not die.’
Cry!
Last fire will rise
Behind those eyes.
Black house will rock,
Blind boys don’t lie.
Immortal fear,
That voice so clear.
Through broken walls,
That scream I hear.
Cry, little sister! (Thou shalt not fall)
Come, come to your brother! (Thou shalt not die)
Unchain me, sister! (Thou shalt not fear)
Love is with your brother! (Thou shalt not kill)
Blue masquerade,
Strangers look on.
When will they learn
This loneliness?
Temptation heat
Beats like a drum.
Deep in your veins,
I will not lie,
Little sister! (Thou shalt not fall)
Come, come to your brother! (Thou shalt not die)
Unchain me, sister! (Thou shalt not fear)
Love is with your brother! (Thou shalt not kill)
My Shangri-Las,
I can’t forget
Why you were mine.
I need you now!
Cry, little sister! (Thou shalt not fall)
Come, come to your brother! (Thou shalt not die)
Unchain me, sister! (Thou shalt not fear)
Love is with your brother! (Thou shalt not kill)
Cry, little sister! (Thou shalt not fall)
Come, come to your brother! (Thou shalt not die)
Unchain me, sister! (Thou shalt not fear)
Love is with your brother! (Thou shalt not kill)
My 2 cents –
This week should be a love song due to valentine’s day. I just don’t feel it. My veiw of love is not something that is easily commercialized. So I went with a movie song redone to be more potent.
The Mood has changed
by Patricia Harris
I can see
the shift in your mood,
the intensity
of things falling in place.
building the moment
stone by stone,
the mood has changed
and so have you.
from the way
you are stacking
the emotions up like bricks...
the wall is so nearly built.
Pattimouse 