Tuned In

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The hustle and bustle around me, a layer I observe but don’t hear.

Isolated from the bubbles of others trying to assimilate.

There goes my gently bouncing head, the shoulders follow in synchronicity to the rhythm of the music.

I settle into the warm pocket of my own construct, this created isolation.

Smooth vibes.
Smiles.
Ease.

Swaying in this soothing world of the melodies touching my soul.

Moving slowly through this lyrical liquid.

If only I didn’t ever have to put my phone on Airplane Mode.

A Little Help From My Friend

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Ghosts of the past linger in the chambers of my memory.

Like the heavy feel of lanolin staining memories a smudged yellow.

An intervening moment of serendipity removes the hold of bygone days.

Again, my simpatico relationship meaningfully ties me to my abundant present.

 

*Thank you for the inspiration, Terry! 🙂

Torn

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I feel the incessant battles of internal opposing forces.
My personal war.

Feelings clashing, emotions raging, peace alluding me.
Rational thoughts tip-toe in intermittently.

It’s a daily challenge, every minute of every day.

Seeking tranquility in the chaos, hoping for a forced equilibrium.
But usually tossed about by my innate human nature.

Developing intentional maturity gains me some stability,
slow and teetering baby steps in the direction of wisdom.

Age and experience lend a hand, slowing down the urge to take up arms.
Fed up or just tired and weary?

The beginning of acceptance or true insight?
Not really sure.

The continual striving for harmony during this brief stint.
A life well-lived; I hope.

With death comes peace, ending a lifetime of struggle.
Balancing the scales.

I will not know it though.
Sure doesn’t seem fair.

Audience Of One

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Pictures and scenery from years gone by flash before my eyes as I’m laying here on my deathbed. I’m simultaneously smiling and crying, wishing to be back in those memories as a more willing participant rather than just as a casual observer.

Who would have ever thought that desire to experience those times again would creep into my psyche? Weren’t those experiences hard the first time? Now laying here I realize, accepting this unfulfilled life is much harder to endure than all the things I had to go through while I was still young or even middle-aged.

Before withering away to my end, I had only watched the days go by without me really participating in them or enjoying sharing good times with others. Now, it’s an even lonelier existence. A hospital bed and my dreams to give me my only real comfort now; closing my eyes make me an audience of one to my past.

I experience a rare joy when nurses or doctors come to call. I can smile a bit with them, forget the sadness I feel. Then they leave and once again I am by myself, alone with my physical pain and my emotional sorrow. The tears flow silently, streaking my face like tiny little rivers through the cracks of my aged appearance.

Looking up, the ceiling offers no hope for some sort of release. I find the only way to escape this dreary loneliness is to sleep and join those characters that brought me what was, in hindsight, the most joy throughout my life. Experiences that I didn’t really know how to appreciate or even understand at the time. Simple pleasures like just being with someone I cared about and truly enjoying the time spent together. Looking at the sunset and its beautiful shades of color as it dipped down below the tree line. Feeling the wind blowing and licking my skin with its light, feathery touch. The little tingles of love and appreciation I should have felt when my children looked at me adoringly. If only I had taken the time to really let all those good things resonate in me deeply. If only I had been an active participant in my life while I had the chance then maybe the sadness now wouldn’t be so profoundly devastating.

I built a lifetime of feeling alone and preoccupied. Connecting to my existence, fully engulfing my experiences could have – oh, they would have – made for a richer take-away than what I chose to be left with at that time. So now I’ll exit this world with only memories, their impact and meaning only now being revealed; a lesson of life learned much too late.

**Originally published on PhiloSusi 4/16/2014. Reposted with minor revisions.

Shattering The Hold

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Intensity laced with lunacy, it’s seductively subliminal.
Past hurt swept away by the look masquerading as deeply in love.
It’s not love.
It’s danger.
And it easily has you.
If you are not careful.
Psychological warfare playing out in the depths of your mind.
Don’t be deceived by the charm of the snakes, the force of the demanding ones
or the egos of those where clever observation never occurs.
They will hurt you.
Maybe not right away, but they will.
The scars of learning are deep and never healing.
See it before it gets a hold of you.
**Originally published PhiloSusi 10/22/16  Re-posted here with minor revisions