[of you]

It’s empty, where you used to lie,

cold, where you used to touch me,

hollow, the songs which meant so much

to you and me,

dusk is falling in showy colours,

soon it will be dark,

and I will be alone

with my memories

[of you]

different

A single moment is all it takes to change the world,

a single deed, a single word, can change who you are,

one moment you’re in command, the very next second…

……in a different place, in a different world,

I’m looking at a different you,

every step I’ve taken to get here is different,

everything we’ve done is different,

I clearly did not know what was going on,

you are different, you are not who I knew you to be,

parts of you were hidden from me,

and I am different,

I have been building a puzzle with missing pieces,

I have no idea where I am now,

the route has gotten terribly convoluted and overgrown with shadows,

I’m in the company of strangers, least of all myself,

and I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, or next week, or next year,

every certainty has changed, been removed or reshaped,

my entire world has collapsed and it is terrifying, as I watch

the world as I know it, shatter……….

Misty Moments

This day is slowly coming to an end,

mist rises from the south over the ocean,

and as this grey wall moves ever closer,

I draw closer to be with you.

In the falling silence we sit, side by side,

breathing in the moist, salty air,

feel the peace and tranquillity it brings,

just as I feel when I am with you.

The sky, the sea, the valley a swirling cloud,

a shroud around the world, as we are wrapped in our love,

trawling across the mind and body of the other,

seeking the mystery that is within only you.

Blind Faith

How do you engineer an act of blind faith and trust

when faith cannot be attested to and trust is often broken,

how, when you can see the blood, the fear, the pain flowing from every cell,

shed tears of sadness for missed days, hours, a childhood,

for the love of parents never felt,

for the cuts from the ones meant to protect us,

for the tears swallowed and blinked away,

trying to be strong, trying to be brave, faking it, what for?

I’ve only hurt myself, the scars and bruises my doing,

because everything I did and do, was and is my choice,

I am the doer, the sayer, the slayer,

there's an origin to this misshapen thinking and reacting

but I am the one answerable, and in my hands lie too

the ability to forgive, to lessen its importance, lessen its impact,

to open up another way for me to experience meaning, true love and joy.

Friday the 13th

  

This Friday the 13^th

I call onto Thee,

all that is good,

let it be! Let it be!

With the Full Moon tonight

dance in silver rays light,

dream a dream of pure gold,

it will be, it’s foretold   🅥

It rained that day

The skies are crying tears of sorrow,

grey mist enfolds me with a sadness

that’s from deep within my being,

a sense of loss, a sense of mourning,

as spools and spools of memories

dance before my eyes and I see moments

I wish I could touch again, see people

I wish I could hold again, see times

I wish I could re-live again,

and I feel heartache from the loss,

sadness from what could have been,

regret from not doing what I wanted,

for every time I sacrificed my soul.

Attachment

Attachment,

attachment to things, to feelings, to people, to places,

attachment, attachment, attachment….

the source of so many discomforts in the self,

attachment to the fire provided by an illicit drug,

to the rush of a love affair, the exhilaration of success,

to the illusion your appearance will change your life,

to the comfort of a predictable day, month, year!#@%,

if only these attachments could dissolve in the moonlight,

freeing the mind from hidden bonds, opening doorways

and highways to unexplored places, where you’re free,

unattached, you’ll be yourself.

of Faeries and Goblins

All the time

the faeries are dancing,

in the wind

with joy everlasting,

through the trees

their wishes, enchanting

the ones who can hear their voice.

All the time

the goblins are scheming,

in the dark

their shadow is reaching,

guard your heart

ere bewitched you’re dreaming

a dream that is not your choice.

All the time

your heartbeat is sounding,

to their beat

the life you are making,

do not doubt,

the angels are watching,

tonight you may rejoice.

Where have the dreams gone?

  

How I long for the days gone by,

to how we were, to the way things were,

summer days when we had little responsibility

and lived for satisfaction,

innocent faith in the world around us,

idealistic visions of who we were and going to be,

dreams, lots of dreams that drove us through days,

many days until the dreams stopped coming every night,

and tired days followed, then the dreaming stopped altogether,

making for long, drawn-out, dreary hours of daylight to get through,

just to escape into an empty void of nothingness, we sleep.

How did I become so disillusioned, so empty, so devoid of feeling,

is it even possible to reclaim solid ground in this quicksand without mercy,

sucking me in, sucking me dry, sucking me down, down, down……

                   

I am the darkness

It is cold and unpleasant, another day without sunshine,

my mind a hamster wheel spinning out of control,

I can no longer fool myself into believing everything will be alright

when I can see pieces flying off into shadowed tomorrows,

building a cloud, a dark storm cloud I have no way of avoiding,

with no protection, no defences, no strength left to fight,

I have exhausted every mind trick, every belief, every healer known to me,

yet the circle keeps coming around and points its dirty finger in my face,

‘You are mine, I have claimed you, I will not relinquish my control,
no matter what route you choose, you won’t find relief,
I’m inherent in your being, I’m the space surrounding spaces,
what makes you think you have what it takes to remove me
when I am the darkness and I am you.’

Into the unknown

Where do you go when your back is against the wall,

when there’s nowhere left to go,

when there is no way out,

when the rough hard concrete bites icy cold

and the world is tinged red with your blood?

There is nothing left, I’m so cold I can no longer feel,

I cannot think, I cannot breathe, I cannot swallow,

the murky mess in my mind now barely a whisper,

I am fading away into a mist of emptiness,

deep into the silent unknown.

Let's get hypnotised

  

Let’s get hypnotised and fly over mountains and through the skies,

light as a breeze, warm as the rays of the sun,

drift with the spirits and angels,

talk to the devil, pull him by the tail and dismiss his lies with a laugh,

keep on flying until we can fly no more,

rest on a cloud and fall

                                           fall

                                                           fall

                                                                           in love…..

now I will play

The warm wind is blowing on the eve of the storm,

building and growing, swelling and rising in the distance, nearing,

but I do not care for the promised tempest,

I do not care for safeguards and security,

I must run through the still calm waves,

splashing, laughing gleefully, exuberant,

feel the fingers of the warm breeze

run along my legs and arms, through my hair,

have the sun touch my wanting skin,

feast my eyes on the golden sands stretched out before me,

I plunge headlong into dizzying pleasure.

……not even the storm is promised to me

and it will come whether I hide or not,

so for now, for now I will play….

My Shadow

It’s been so long, I have trouble seeing the intent that drove me,

cannot quite distinguish between impulsion and authenticity anymore,

has routine marred the shine and allure that once burned so brightly,

has it blinded me to the attractions and fairgrounds I passed along the way,

detracted me from obscured pathways accessible to me

and closed the door to like-minded beings?

Has this habit been ingrained by a living need towards a mutual purpose,

or is it driven by the shadows that ravage my soul night after night,

deepening its possession, deepening its domination,

accelerating the disintegration of a self-destructive being…

The Shadow World

The shadows that dwell deep

in the hidden crevices of the psyche,

deliver purviews of a portent

guaranteed to shake the very foundation of your self,

shattering pretence and reality

to reconstruct a semblance of sanity,

for you to build on anew,

once the smoke of destruction has cleared.

ad - dic - tion

I went to rehab for alcohol addiction in 2006, after which I made contact with an online recovery community scattered all over the world, and I remember a specific blog I read, written by the mother of a heroin addicted son.  She shared her life of his daily struggle against the addiction to heroin, going to one rehab centre after the other, the frustration at the ineffectiveness of these programmes, including the methadone treatment for heroin addicts to facilitate the detox period, with methadone itself being a highly addictive drug.  She wrote about how it tore her family apart, the financial losses suffered as he stole from the family to support his habit, the Tough Love approach, and the ultimate confrontation with helplessness in being unable to help her own son!, the lifting periods where he was not using and trying to resume his life (invariably these addicts have police records making employment difficult), only to fall again when he turned to the only god know to the users of heroin.

This morning I watched an interview addressing the drug zone in San Francisco, how junkies live in tents on the pavements, shoot up in broad daylight and die on their streets from overdose, all in full view of San Francisco residents and law enforcement.  The City thence deemed it prudent to alleviate this problem by creating ‘safe spaces’ for these addicts, where they are provided with new/clean needles and have even made nurses available to inject these addicts, if they so choose.  We are talking about a drug called Heroin, the one and only instantly addictive drug, a drug with a recovery rate of as low as 20%, a drug that almost always ends in overdose, in death, this drug offers very few second chances.

I grew up in an alcoholic home, and around the age of 15 I went on a ‘quest’ to escape what felt like hell. Everything available to me was tried, used, abused. Alcohol wasn’t strong enough to quell my rebellion, I wanted drugs. I researched drugs, the effects of various drugs, I was not interested in finding a pleasurable escape from reality, I aimed to numb every feeling I ever had, I wanted to numb my memories, my daily life, my existence. Fortunately I was young during a time in our history where drugs were not tolerated as they are today, a time when drugs were considered criminal.  Laws were in place that discouraged the use of drugs and lawmen were vigilant in applying these laws.

Looking back 30 years, I shudder to think where I would be today, were such ‘safe spaces’ available to me at that time.  I don’t know whether I’d be here to write these words, because as hurt and full of pain as I was then, I needed to be numb, I was chasing oblivion, I was seeking self-destruction.  I pray for all the damaged and hurt children, in San Francisco, in America, who have these avenues open to them, who do not have a chance because the Fathers of the City believe they can treat this problem by making it easier for the addict to take drugs and I pray for some sanity to return to this bleeding world of ours.

Passage of Time

The livers of life,

the lovers of souls,

the wishes of dreamers,

the whispers of hope,

the cries of the broken,

the calls for reform,

the fury of destruction,

the fire in those reborn,

the legacy left by our elders,

the labour of our love,

the passing of the seasons,

the power to change what must.

...feels like home

Dare I hope and dare I dream

I have found the place where I can breathe,

that feels like home, a place to stretch my wings,

follow my instinct, my nature, the flow of energy

and let it lead me, let the spirits guide me,

let the touch of another’s hand be giving and warm,

let the words I hear be sincere and truthful,

let the path we walk together, be one we were meant to share,

taking us to places destined for us,

and when the ocean’s smell steals our mind,

part ways, as is the nature of life,

dare I hope this dream to be…..

picture source: https://medium.com/thrive-global/a-lesson-on-turning-dreams-into-reality-ee4d5e7b5687

Locked Doors

picture credit: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/locked-door-jill-battaglia.html

Pacing the halls like a wild animal, caged,

restlessly looking, smelling, touching here, then there,

there’s a pattern on the carpets

where his footsteps pass routinely, habitually, compulsively,

the windows are steamed up with pent-up rage,

a thick mould growing on this side of the door to freedom,

he prefers to stay and fuss and ruminate and deliberate

the same stale understanding had yesterday,

and here he’ll stay until he stays lost in the mist of isolation.

Strangers

The wind blew cold the day I met

the stranger never I’d forget,

he called to me, I answered, though I didn’t know his name,

his voice was deep with richness,

spoke hard words with a tenderness

that made me lay down this here sword, it’s time to cease the fight.

He spoke of wonders he has touched,

of places dark but not as much

as the tears he sees are floating just behind the mask I wear,

his hand reached out and he took mine,

he said, “Don’t fight me, you can shine,

bound to this darkness you are not, let me show you treasures rare”.

The blood lay deep beneath my feet,

my demons hunger quite replete,

but I didn’t have the strength to fight this fight another day,

he held me through my anger,

to sins he is no stranger,

and he healed all parts of me that ached, then he turned and walked away.

I’ve lived those moments in my mind,

a dream it was, one very kind,

but he held my hand and touched my soul of that I’m very sure,

I hope he keeps on walking,

keeps taking people by the hand,

keeps touching all the lost souls who’re in dire need of care.

 picture source: http://hitchcock.umwblogs.org/2014/03/20/criss-cross-in-strangers-on-a-train/

Dusk

In this dusk I wish to be the breeze

drifting through fragrant gardens,

past crickets and frogs, faeries and mushrooms,

through mossy ferns and pine tree trunks,

then dive off the cliff in a rush of air

towards the rocks and roiling currents

rising just before I touch the water

as the mist swirling in from the sea,

in this dusk I wish to be the sigh

escaping your lips when I sink into your arms,

a cool breath in your neck, are those goose bumps?

I shiver, the uncontrolled surrender to the night

and its needs racing over our skin, a searing heat,

forcing us to let go of this world

and relinquish our hold on sanity for a while.

picture source: https://photogrist.com/surreal-manipulations-kyle-kerr/

I need...

I need to let lose my hair and run wild in a place where no-one knows my name, I need to be alongside someone who stands strong and has the desire to run this path to the end with me, I want days to be nights, and nights to be a carousel of creating, discovering, learning, observing, the motion of the dark and the shadows, the rhythm of the waxing and waning moon, the energy of spirits and trees, I need to let out what is locked inside, has been for so very, very long……

 picture source: https://glorialatham.com/2013/09/control/

The Sliver of a Moon

   Float with the wispy clouds dancing around the sliver of a moon hanging at just the right angle for your dreams to swing with reckless abandon through the night skies, and it’s okay to hide behind a dark cloud and sneak a secret kiss before you dart off, hand in hand, wild and free to explore the wonders of the darkness…..

picture source: http://themotherhouseofthegoddess.com/2018/04/27/the-9-moons-of-magic-by-renee-starr/

Night of the Storm

It feels as if I’ve been hit by a cannon ball from all sides

my midriff is purple with bruises from within

my jaw aches from clenching, my nerves on edge

chest tight, I don’t get enough air

the waves are too big, too strong, I’ve lost all my strength

but I can’t bring myself to say you have won,

I must just decide what it will be I will be fighting for.

Shadows

Shadows move, steal through the consciousness like a snake in the wild wilderness, seeing hidden footsteps, picking up scents left a long, long time ago, probes deep in the underbrush of best forgotten cuts and wounds, both inflicted and borne, shadows seeking the scent of your sins.

No more Fear!

I do not want to live in fear anymore, I do not want ‘what if’, ‘in case’ or ‘might’, I want to face each day with a clear conscious, I want to look forward to unravelling the hours without a thought or a worry, pure joy is what I want.

I do not want to live with guilt anymore, I want to look at and discard every horror and nightmare, I want to accept people and words at face value, I want to experience the day unhampered, footsteps light without the weight not mine to bear, and forgiven!, every transgression, wrong doing and betrayal, from myself, is what I seek.

And no!, too much has been lost in history, a simple recipe or the formula to wonder, knowledge vanished, secrets gone to the grave. Do not believe ‘all will be revealed in the end’, it induces the fear to keep you caged, obedient and transparent, I will live for myself, by my belief, by my heart.

Moon Magick

Every day I wait, every day it’s clear,

with the setting of the sun, from the shadows you appear,

I welcome your breath, I welcome the release,

all the weight it just dissolves, I am grateful for the peace

you bestow on me, gifting me with life,

freedom’s found when in your spell, down the path of silver light.

Moods

The clouds lie low and heavy,

pushing down on the valley,

pushing out its life and colour,

reducing lush greens to sullen greys,

stealing sight, muting sound, enveloping,

embracing, thickly cladding your being

with the weight of your lies and deceit,

forcing out the truth with your last dying breaths.

The End

  

But you see, there is no end, there is no starting over, what has been, has been,

placed into your memories, vivid images alive with feeling and colour,

hidden under a muddle of distractions, rhythms and routines,

but 3am is the time they rise onto the surface and either lovingly stroke your weary eyelids

or pillage through the darkness with the subtlety of a tank in midday traffic,

stealing every grain of sand left by the sandman, to their mirthful laughter you are left

to relive their offering, tirelessly, in the darkened auditorium of the world.

Take Back the Night

If you come with me tonight

I will take you to some might say hell,

I will take from every sense

‘til there’s nothing left in you to quell,

I’ll drive you even further

than the boundary you thought you had,

take and give, no, don’t hold back,

come with me, in this night, in this spell.

All alone when you wake up,

when you feel, when it’s too dark to see,

you’ll face regret and wonder

were you partner or an abductee

yet in your mind’s eye they play

the visions of what we unfolded

a need ingrained forever,

we'll meet again some day I foresee.

Surrender

I relinquish myself to you,

I have tried and failed

to counter you, sway you, control you, conquer you,

and although the thread of rebellion

lies tied heavy around my throat,

when instinct and reason wage a war

it’s the bearer who suffers defeat.

Disillusion

 It reaches hard and deep, a searing hot flame without an end, burning every fibre that is me,

striking again and again, a fierce determination hell-bent on a fiery destruction of all-consuming proportions not even the coldest, darkest oceans could quell, this longing to escape from this plane.

I am tired, tired of life, of the falsehoods, untruths, dishonour, despair, loss, dishonesty, cruelty, degradation, subjugation, futility, hopelessness, dire need, callous betrayal, faithlessness. I no longer wish to recite my lines, follow the directions given, read the script as if it were my choosing. I no longer wish to see the steady decline from beauty into disrepair, from flourishing to withering away, from growth and happiness to stagnation and addiction.

I feel the shifting of sanity, subtle bypassed to unashamedly evident, that the world is a stage and we are the players, slaves who pretend nothing is wrong, who anaesthetise our senses and our sight to the dissolution of society, of ourselves, of everything that’s right, there’s no respect in a dying man begging for his daily piece of poison.

What is the purpose behind this thing called Life

From where hails this hopelessness,

this purposelessness that’s surrounds me,

the futility fettered to every action, plan and deed?

There has to be something more than merely passing through each beautiful day,

embracing every luxury and beauty available in this sanctuary we have created,

enjoying the privileges and abundance with which we’ve been graced,

in accordance to a belief sculpted by time.

A belief favouring the instinctive, the things which move something inside, the goodness that is to be found in each moment, and many such moments freely and spontaneously present themselves in your every wakened hours,

and I heed these things, I note all the gifts before me, I stop, look deeply, breathe in the variety of scents in the air, feel the tickle of the wind in my hair, the heat of the sun on my skin, the soulful eyes of the creatures in my care, the love of a fellow human being,

yet I cannot shake the gloom disturbing my rhythm, causing me to stumble over level ground,

wielding old dissatisfactions which my belief no longer supports, ties my tongue when words should flow easily, plays tricks with the shadows presenting threats that don’t exist, facts quite clearly fake, and images aimed at incinerate my sanity…

from whence does this darkness stem,

what’s the purpose behind this eternal night,

could someone tell me please the reason behind this all……