Tag Archives: Personal

dark nights, dark dreams

crowdblog
Down, down, and down
down
sewers
black holes with fetid water
the wine of a city
blinded by cheap lights
cheap thrills
too costly to survive
only in dreams.

On clouds
dreams ghost by
the gold ring beckons
horse heads break
ancient wood, brittle and neglected
your forgotten dreams
misunderstood
when horses ran round and round
and laughter was the only sound.

Now grown
decapitated and dethroned
you shuffle back and forth to work
down subway steps
towards black earth
and rats that scurry, finding death
anticipating you, along the way
will find the fall
complimentary.

You casually accept the entry
the underworld so grim
there to find your long-lost kin.


Off the cliff!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
obliged to all
my brain dissolves
in New Year’s wine
in champagne’s fine
attributes
in chocolates and delicacies
that palates must attend
to such distress as tongues
and taste without refinement
as we pursue a state of sheer inebriation
without a hint of what the morn shall bring
in pain and torture
as heads collide on pillows softer
than an angel’s hand could lend.
Oh, we are, doubtless, a species of abuse!


In darkness

Ghosts
Choking as the phantoms grasp-
It never ends.

The memories
Damn the memories.
Heart sickens at the time past, the future narrowing.

Enemy and friend.
Mind blanks and then retrieves convoluted queries
All answers unavailable.

He was the most handsome.
Not I, but you said this.
I, who watched his growth
His muscles swell into a well seasoned athlete
Honed by meticulous care.
Yes, I did this.
With only memories left to console.
This I have done to myself.


how can a woman be upset?

So, this is about
A woman friend of mine
Who said she was upset
At Obama’s reelection,
And I ask, why?

Romney was against abortion, but she did not think she should would take responsibility for a child of a women forced to conceive, no matter what the reason.
She did not care that he had no thoughts or comments on whether women should be paid equal pay for equal work.
He would privatize Social Security, and possibly leave millions of Americans destitute.
And health care? Well…

So, why was she upset?
She is not rich.
She depends, partially, upon her husband’s pension (they are both recently retired).
She is upset at the increasing property taxes and health care costs.

Is there someone who can enlighten me?

From your humble blogger, runningwithellen


Okay, It ‘s Alright…(Nevertheless, although found widely, alright remains nonstandard…)

(hummed to the tune of the BBC show ‘New Tricks’)

It’s okay
No big deal
The rich are richer and the poor can’t deal
It’s alright
It’s okay
The end is coming this way.

It’s for sure
Some shall say
That equal rights is the only way.
It’s alright, it’s okay
The poor are poorer each day.

The sun don’t shine six feet down
The living might as well go under ground
The middle class have lost their heads
The sand is lookin’ good instead.

It’s alright, it’s okay
You muddle by each and every day.
It’s alright, it’s okay
Death is just a step away.


Homage to the blogs I follow

On the way to Mount Snowdon
I met a Slate Quarry.
Though not the one to err
Yet I found deep thought
In the passing of memory
Far under a tree
So Dark,
and dog-nab-it,
in the trolley garage.
Then as we retreat
you may vent, as you please–
But not to neglect,
to Canada we photo
And while Easy does it,
He’s my favorite by far!
But do not ignore
Doggystyle, yes, there’s more–
Thundering Herd, not absurd;
And we speak of adopting a little bit more!
So here’s to my minions–
In them I do reckon, with Brevity, tis true,
A soul’s walk will do,
So splash a little paint–
my words shall remain
with Margo’s Notebook,
and Sage’s misadventures
a source of real pride,
at night by my side–
Love those dogs, I confess,
Can’t get enough of you, I guess!

Stanza #2
It should so please me, if you would just see,
My newest companion–
It’s Zack, he flies free!


It’s party time!

Eleven p.m.
I’m sure you must know
I’m never this late
I’m usually asleep–
I live in the woods
With nary a peep
From fish or from fowl
Though they usually don’t howl
Like the coyotes do
Or the resident screech owls
That lurk very near
Yet rarely appear.

So I’ll turn off the lights
And tumble to bed
I’ll say my good nights
And sleep pretty tight
Till the mice start to party
At 4 in the dark
And I pull up the covers
And wait for daylight!


Food!

oops whoops
oh boy
whoa
not so
oy vey
I swear
I might have had a fright
oh my
I looked around until I found
a pair of Starlings flying low
and other birds aloft, you know
that birds in flight
can tell a lot
of things to come
and things undone
of dreams inside your pretty head
and silly words to stop you dead
of vegetables that rot in hell
and others that divinely make
your day a wondrous place to dwell
and fill your tummy till it swells.
And then there’s dips and chips and such
that fill you up, and up, and up
with calories and fat and more
that in the end will make you swear
to reassess your food affairs!


2 Sleep

Sleep 1
It’s very strange
That once or twice
I come upon a thing that’s right
For most of it is very wrong
And takes you on a path that’s long
And far away from everything.
It brings you grief and nasty things.
But when you find a thing that’s right
It makes you sleep quite well at night.

Sleep 2
I sleep and sleep and sleep at night
And wake when it is very bright
Perhaps at 10, 11, or noon
Even 1 is none too soon.

I need my beauty rest, of course
There’s nothing worse than having lost
That beauteous glowing, silky skin
That ageless patina that’s akin
To Venus of De Milo fame
Or David, Michelangelo’s creation.
So let me rest till I decide
To rise and take myself outside!


Rue my heart

Upon my constitution, around the house I strode
And saw with much disturbance, the stone ’twas cracked, and more.
I followed it for long it was,
No rest was to be shown
How came this crack unto my home
and why so very long?
Are there not better things to do
than break my house of stone?
No answer came my way
And none did I expect
For rue my heart the crack did show
To break my own sweet breast.


Missing a Life

To say “miss” is to imply there once was, but I assure you there was not.
Growing up in a morass of mediocrity, accomplishments were relegated to others, and ours was a life marked by others’ needs, a turning of the lamp before dawn, a turning off at night. What happened between was of no consequence.
Nor did it provide satisfaction or mere contentment.
It was but a passing of time till sleep. Sleep, less and less each day, and time grows burdensome.
Fragments of contentment appear and disappear, so subtle that their remembrance lasts not long, insufficient to be recorded.
Which yesterday revealed a moment with the possibility of renewal, satisfaction, meaning, continuity? If there was, it is lost, intangible.


Dream/Wake

Pain

Last night I sent a bus careening, with people calmly going to their death
In my dream
Wrapped in plastic
But that was the second bus
The first hurtled out of control by itself
The first was a ghost
A foretelling of the second
And a third, split in two, suspended in air
And shrink wrapped
With damage control emblazoned on its side
Spun down the corridor after the two.

Then I woke.
Unscathed.

Later.

At 4 in the morning you wake, depressing yourself
At 6:11 it’s not the same.
Two pots of coffee, and you’re almost sane.


Sorrow

Insidious is this sorrow
So many tears to shed
Though laughter fills the air instead
And yet
This sorrow weighs against my chest
And yet
To live a life filled with regret
That tears can never stop the tide
Of sorrow walking by my side.


I’m handsome…

My pads are tough from asphalt streets

My nails are short, for this I’m pleased

My coat is brushed ten thousand times

So for the ladies I do shine.

Yet never once will she release

And take me off this cumbersome leash

So that I may attend to all

The ladies at my beck and call!

 

 

 


I remember…

How quiet he is.
In death as in life.
Soft, smooth, once warm, now cold and stiff.
Gone my love. Gone my long companion of days adrift and nights awake.
Gone now, gone forever, three feet down, an amendment to the soil.

To mask my pain and ask forgiveness.
What life did you lead. Were you served well, you who bent your head and body to my will.

I did ignore. I did. I remember well.

Soft, my boy, soft next to me, so easy to put aside.
To gather back those times, the endless repetition of a life’s attitudes, changed never, repentant forever. Time finite. Time infinity.

You left, and I sit, shocked that 16 years passed before me, unnoticed.
Asleep in your place on the floor, the discomfort comforts. The last sleep and weariness of each day blurs my mind of thought and emotion. Kept at bay, I exist.


Woke Up…

Here I lay thinking

And you say I should

It’s 9:52

So misunderstood

But not by you

It’s myself out of touch.

Behind pillar and post the nightmares collect

Dream on you say

But soon I regret

The stomping, the yelling

The howls in the night

If I don’t wake up soon

I’ll have such a fright.

Well, life is just that

To hell and then back

Yet the sun also rises in spite of this fact.

 


Oh my, sigh…

Brought to tears

my heart does cheer

and thoughts of how you  appear

to mellow my response

in ways I may enhance

a quality of life

so often rife

with war and woe

though this I think you  know

my feelings are sincere

I must reply

I am not tied

by land or sea or sky

and will admit

with fitting wit

I’d rather live than die.


End of life

What happens when you lose all reasons for living, when existence seems meaningless?
Why does this happen?
Is it simply the result of a set of circumstances, or is it inherent in the person, something that was always there and only needed a trigger to be set free?
And when you begin to go over the things you want to put in order so that your death will not put others in distress over the things you may have left unattended?
And when you solidly believe that even though you maintain the ability to laugh and enjoy certain aspects of this world, that your existence is worthless and noncontributory to the betterment of the community, in such a way that you feel there will be no loss, but surely a gain for others, as you leave space and resources for others to make better use of?
And even when you formulate these feelings, a part of you remembers something you truly wanted to do, and already you want to postpone your end in order to accomplish this one thing.
The result, though, is no less sad, for the depression remains, and joy is only fragmentary.
Ending seems so more fulfilling than constant mediocrity.


Underneath their nails and on their skin

Clouded brain
Tears welled and drowned this cheek
Live without life
Vanished and vanquished
Years of delusions
Awakening to nothing
A last knowledge of time wasted and wasting away.

Alcoholic stupor headaches vision blurred
Distasteful renderings of a former life
Senseless heartbreak of minds wasted
He stood above the rest
Reason to walk this ground, this earth, this gift of God
Until the end of days envelops and darkness wins.


A thousand cuts

Death by a thousand cuts.
A sweet and gentle wish that you would soon reply
to worried inquiries about your health and happiness.
No one would write as you have done without a fearsome demon lapping at mind, souls’ edge.
Take care, and know that someone waits to wrest those demons, ease a heart constrained by hands unseen, by misconceptions of a life’s reward, of waiting for release from things you were always free from
And so you know I wish to hear your plaintive tones against the winds of nature spread so softly that I would even tread to heaven to release you.


Life, filled with discord

Oh Jane.
Your life, filled with discord, rolls by
A paranoia unprotected
Your life
So convoluted you cannot know
What pain is real and what is not.

Jane, you are a true and beauteous moment
Of god’s own glory and nature’s bliss
Of loves’ lost and loves’ awaiting mist
Of minds beliefs and minds believing grist

You can surrender, though you would not admit
What your own mind tricked to assist
The venomous regions
Of life’s beguiling twists
That you alone have seen the coming end
Of wife and husband
No love, I can assure.


Your name, insane!

Oh Jane!
Insane!
Each time he writes your name
His heart beats out a flame!

A fire in his loin
A flutter that doth spawn
A rare a beauteous morn
Awakening of dawn
A veritable display
Of nature’s way to say
Good day!

But lo!
The day draws quick
The spirits unrestrained
Return to rue the day
That turns itself to night,
And man’s abode abides
With heartfelt feelings more.
This day we have adored!


Your Pain is Sorrowful

How is your life, by the way?
I hear your anger in the way you write
Your life filled with fear and doubt you cannot figure out
Are those around neglecting what you need?
As blindly you subject
Those who know you not and never see your face,
With mindless rantings, cannot assuage your
body or your mind, as slowly laid to waste.


Oh sweet! Oh soft!

Love, sweet, soft, gentle wind
Swept across my proffered cheeks
Heady love, a sweet, sweet wine
Cloves and nutmeg
A mead to mine
Own love, I do profess
To love and never to regret
That you I held to heart, to breast
That you I loved the very best.


Gone


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