Lucky

life is hard
being used, abused and tossed about
but generally something good can come of it

but to be chosen
over and over while watching those remaining
experience the afterglow of seeing another day

… it cracks me up

Reblogs – Aishwarya & Christine Bialczak

The dichtomy of living – trying to hide in the thick of the underbelly but also rising above. These two poems illustrate well what being on that spectrum of life means.

Figment by Christine Bialczak

Hidden
put away forever
shame entangles
tears flow morosely
memories
becoming reality
endlessly
utterly
a mere figment
concocted by fear.

Breakthrough by Aishwarya

From darkness,
Light shines,
From silence,
Sound reverberates,
From emptiness,
Companions valued,
From ignorance,
Knowledge surfaces,
From frustration,
Action grows,
From necessity,
Inventions glorify,
From impatience,
Patience surges,
From hopelessness,
Hope evolves,
From nothing,
Everything develops.

Missed Opportunities

Xresch – Pixabay

Inspired by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix & Sadje’s What do you see #102

in my youthful mind
before responsibility aged me
dreams of rich discovery carried me over mountain tops
in the direction of promising golden rays of fortune
the thrill of adventure hastening all my steps
but with a scowl i realized i was out of steam
leaving me motionless and stranded
in the middle of life

Grief-Sicken

the monumental woes
sudden jolts to the psyche
a shock of endless wounding ripples
splintering into a cascade of emotions
gigantic internal rifts open in us

flayed open in a jagged void

our mind, body and soul
doing the symbiotic dance of intense unease
putrid words heat up inside needing purged
they force themselves up and out unintelligibly
hot screamed tears flow down anguished cheeks

our reality forever changed

in time we hush our voice to gutteral moans
the liquid from our eyes slows to a trickle
the suffering seals us up within ourselves
and the sadness clings to every fiber in our being
arthritic pain felt everywhere there are no bones

living is hard

My Essence

Redux

I Write Her

1212.pngPxhere.com

The majesty of my ethereal being is within
gifting me an enlightened puissance.

I am perspicacious.

I’m those things that matter
to myself, my family, my community, and my world.

It’s not fleeting.
I remain who I am in the face of darkness and doubt.

This caring, this is me.

This strength, I share with you
as we all march on.

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Dancing With My Corpse

in the darkness
the din of agony
i still dance

life is to be celebrated

in adversity
the direness of circumstance
i still dance

life is teaching me something

in the face of the inevitable
creeping ever closer or unexpectedly
i still dance

life isn’t over yet

in acceptance
i know my fate
i still dance

yet my life will end

Thanks, Ivor! PERFECT accompaniment to this piece. 🙂