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.

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.

The Human Zoo

The Human Zoo

Unknown Date

The Human zoo,

Is locked up tight,

From day to day,

From night to night.

The guests that come

Are covered with fur,

They shake the cages

And disappear with a blur.

Different displays

Tend to show different traits,

Like white or black,

Football or skates.

They also have a museum,

That show the things we had,

Whatever they could scavenge

Or whatever was in fad.

If you have yet to realize,

This isn’t just a tease,

This is really how humans act,

In our zoo, things are a breeze.

Not We, But Me

Not We, But Me

3/9/11

We are not one, but two.

Two passages created unequally.

The same word, the same look,

But defined differently.

Two words with two meanings.

She is a passage,

A passage from a tome,

Pristine form

Scrawled on the page.

Letters,

Neatly aligned.

She is a passage

In a story,

But only that,

A small segment.

A passage of what is,

Of what was.

The rest?

Hidden-

Another passage

Never to be found,

Not even by me,

Her opposite.

I am a passage to someplace else,

A place that is yet to be revealed.

The peeled walls and plastic flowers of my passage,

Pass by others, but rarely intersect with them,

Leaving a few scattered doors that vary in form.

They connect to my passage, locking two together.

But my world is my own.

And though it is not hidden, my passage is for only me.

There is no one else who treads through it.

To say we are the same

Is an illusion.

It is not reality.

If I were a passage in a book

My words would differ.

If she were a passageway,

With more doors she’d be connected.

There have been moments,

Brief periods,

When we were considered

One.

Not just the same in person

But in identity.

When only one was allowed,

We were counted as one

Although we are not.

Others aren’t considered one

So why are we?

Together

We may be we,

But I am still me

And she is still she.

We are not one, but two.

Mortality-the Bastard Child

Mortality—the Bastard Child

3/8/2012

Mortality is—the bastard child—

To Mother—Eternity.

While Mother is stoic and patient

Mortality strives to succeed.

Mortality always strives to win

With every game he plays—

Eternity—stands in silence—

Every decision—she weighs.

Mother has—Eternity—

To sit—and wait—and watch.

Earth has little consequence

Where Time is just a Notch.

But Mortality still runs a race

With Time—who he can’t beat.

A terror—burning in his chest,

A fire rife with heat.

Forever will he fear his—Father—

The man—who controls—Time­­.

Till Death drags him to silence,

And covers his Mother’s crime.