A Carousel of Guilt

A Carousel of Guilt

6/17/2015

Guilt—

A thankless feeling

With rarely a true meaning.

Something often felt

When there is no need of it.

So many things to feel bad about-

Opening the doorway to Guilt where it can

Reach into my chest and grip my heart until

The blood stops pumping—

And I can barely stand—

And I can’t sleep.

A carousel of memories

Obstructs my vision

Leaving me feeling

Void—

I want to apologize

But who is talking?

Me?

Or the Guilt?

But even when I shoo the Guilt away

It comes back, knocking on my door

And if I don’t answer

The Guilt forces its way in

Coming back full force.

But as it turns out—

Guilt is a trickster—

As cunning as Coyote

And as cruel as Loki.

He spins the carousel bringing forth the bilge.

But the truth is—

Like all tricksters—

Guilt is a liar.

The horrific memories

That swirl

And twirl

Across your mind’s eye

Are nowhere near as bad

As Guilt likes to make them.

The other party involved

In whatever Guilt brings forth

May feel very little

Or absolutely

Nothing

About what Guilt drags you

Through shit over.

But Guilt is hard to get rid of

And a carousel isn’t an easy thing to move.

But the fact is—

Most things aren’t easy to get rid of

And using all that effort—

The pushing

The tugging

Only makes you stronger

And once you fight off the Guilt

You’ll find yourself better than you were before.

Only then can you truly tell

If you are the one talking

Or if it’s guilt—

And if you find you are the one—

Then the apology you make

Will be more heartfelt

And more genuine

And that will make it all the better

And only then

Can you truly kick Guilt out the door

And remove the foundation of the carousel

And move on with life.

Places in a Pen

Places in a Pen

1/11/2015

I let my pen lead me to places unknown

To lands and countries where I won’t be alone.

Where I can speak to others and send them my words

Where those words can fly high like the wings of birds.

Words hold many a secrets, written in song

They show the whole world a way to be strong

Through showing us emotions, songs band us together,

To risk a cliché, they make us birds of a feather.

Or through words in poetry, written in verse

Through which many a century the reader may traverse

Back to olden days, where pens wrote great epics

And even children knew the value of poetics

Because glories were written to heroes and gods

And all across the land, words could trod.

But a pen in the right hand has powers so vast

That even people on high can’t find a way past

The places they lead to, the courses they lay

But those held on pedestals choose to put on a play

To avert the dull masses and disband the faith

They once held in writers whose words show the true face

Of the ones hiding secrets, and telling the lies

But who hold all the power, who seem so noble and wise.

My pen leads me to stories, of heroes and kings,

Or of beggars and thieves, or things that pull on the strings

Of what’s deep in your heart, which makes you feel joy or pain

And puts your mind in places that you cannot explain,

And they bring stories of people who live through hard times

Who are victims of war or abuse or of crimes

Or of people who live in a faraway place

Or were forced from their homes, from their own lands displaced,

Or stories of fantasy, where the hero’s a pawn,

Or mysteries, or adventures, must I go on?

Words bring us much but most aren’t aware

Of this wealth of intelligence and how much is there.

A large part of humanity won’t pick up a book

In which holds so much knowledge that they now overlook,

They won’t know any empathy or make a new friend

In the characters of a book, and they will not descend

Into wars so vile, and battles bloody and dark

And on glorious journeys they’ll never embark.

People don’t understand where my pen can take me

But the fault is their own and I am happy

To keep it myself, though I would like to share

I must leave it be as is only fair,

They must find for themselves the power pens hold

Because if not the feeling won’t be made of gold.

Writing is something that I do everyday

To get out my frustrations and push them away,

I use it to pull the stopper on my heart

So that turbulent emotions won’t tear me apart.

To force a love of writing and reading is bad

So I’ll leave them be until they take my hand

And choose to find joy in the words from a pen,

And then I hope that they can enjoy it again and again.

Floating in the Ocean

Floating in the Ocean

1/6/2015

The seas are now changing and I must be strong,

I hold the wheel steady though so much could go wrong.

I’ve begun to feel dizzy, I can’t keep my head

But I have so few options, no fallback plans instead

Of my falling, my vessel’s drifting off course,

I grip only the wheel and hope it doesn’t get worse.

I can’t see the shore, there’s no land to be seen

As I drift steadily off course, I can’t contain the scream

Of horror and terror, the desperate pleas

To weigh down the anchor and get out of the seas.

I’m floating in the ocean, no land to be found,

I cannot see sunlight and my feet can’t touch ground.

The storm keeps on brewing that threw me off course

So I turn to the heavens, and pray for recourse

But nothing has changed and the quest only gets harder

But what choice do I have but to find some smarter

Plan to reset my path and I must go somewhere

So I pull out a map and push away despair.

I must draw a new course and make it my own,

Though I fight through rough waters, and the seeds I have sown

Of my drift in the ocean, but I can put it to right,

I’ll find a way through the darkness and turn on the light,

Through the clouds and the shadows, through wave after wave,

I’ll fight mighty monsters and make myself brave.

I’ll journey through unknown with no end in sight

But I know I can do it if I put up a fight!

I’ll find land again and find my own place

Though I may be treading water, gladly I’ll face

A future that’s uncertain, a black wall of rain,

I’ll push past the lost love and push past the pain

To a land of great beauty where I know I belong.

The journey may be rough, uncertain and long

If I find my own happiness it cannot be wrong,

So though it may be hard, I have to be strong,

Even if that means my float in the ocean I must prolong

Because one day I’ll reach shore where I can burst into a song

Of joyous occasion where my future is plain

Where all my uncertainty has been strangled and slain.

Words are a Tool

Words are a Tool

2/27/11

My sister who does not share my blood

Lost her father one cold and empty February.

It may have been only a year so,

But since then, it’s been an eternity.

The one thing I noticed on those lonesome days,

Were the certain words people chose to say,

They caused me great frustration

Because there was no feeling in any way.

“I’m sorry,” people muttered quietly

While my friend stared out at the cold.

That phrasing has been used so often,

From the young, and by the old.

Some days later, I brought this up

Wondering what she thought,

“Why must people always apologize

When they share no blame for what’s been wrought?”

She replied, “It’s just what people say,

When they don’t know what words to use.”

“But that really doesn’t make much sense,”

I aggressively accused.

“If you’re always using words that way

They eventually lose what they mean,

The feeling is lost by frequent use,

I’ve learned this from what I’ve seen.”

Lightly tipping her head to the side,

With my heartfelt words she did agree.

Without much thought, words cease to feel

And this I don’t understand, why others can’t see.

“I promise,” “I wish,” “I’m sorry,”

“It isn’t all that bad.”

Constantly used, consistently ignored,

And there are many more to add.

Words are tools with special meanings

That contribute to who we are,

But if we keep using them like we do,

We won’t go very far.

Lost Meaning

Lost Meaning  

4/12/10

Have you ever deigned to realize

When people say I’m sorry,

For the most part you ignore it

No matter what their worry.

What is the reason for this?

Every word loses its meaning

When it’s so often repeated

Causing others to ignore its feeling.

When you often apologize

For something not your fault,

It causes others to ignore it

For it’s a word used as a default.

This isn’t just true with I’m sorry

But with other phrases as well,

If you constantly hear I love you,

When they mean it, you can’t truly tell.

If you repeat a word

Only about a dozen times,

It quickly loses its meaning,

Go ahead and give it a try.

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet,

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet,

Now doesn’t it look funny?

I never truly realized this

Until it was pointed out,

These words were quietly spoken

Because there was no need to shout.

When I was told her father died,

My fist response was, “I’m sorry.”

She cocked her head and asked me why,

So I responded, “I guess because I’m worried.”

“I feel  really sad

Because your father died.”

She said, “It’s not your fault,

There’s no reason to apologize.”

It was then that I realized,

I simply brush it away,

When people constantly apologize,

And I continue on my way.

 I also quickly realized

That I often do the same,

I constantly apologize

Even though I’m not to blame.

So the next time someone tells you

That something bad has happened,

Your reaction should not be to apologize,

Because there isn’t really a reason.

I beg you to find another way

To show you feel sympathy,

Or all your words, as well as others

Could eventually lose their meaning.