Intermittent Survival

a fresh, new being could never imagine
how hard the struggle to live really is
but the signs are all around
     the pollution of our air, land and water
     plastic invading every system
     now, even on a microscopic level
     recent mass extinctions of too many species
     only experienced due to the inhabitants of this blue sphere

we’re being decimated, incrementally
     natural disasters
     the poisons from our food chain
     covid
     first world diseases
     suicides
     war
     prescription drugs
     nights of binge drinking
     politics
     and every other accepted form of death and destruction

we are always on the verge of getting shit on

life seeks to test our limitations
or try to destroy us by natural means
eradicate what has existed, well or not
never knowing whether we can make it through
yet hoping we do

     for what, we ask innocently and often

bolstering on with might and strength
     at times, with indifference

the will to thrive
established at birth 
keeps us going

Reblogs – RedCat & VJ Knutson

We come into this world not knowing what to expect. Sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it’s good, but life and living are always a struggle, with few rewards.

Impact by RedCat

If parental love and support always lacked 

If abuse and neglect was an everyday fact 
A child’s mind and soul is under attack 

Natural behavior patterns are reprogrammed and hacked 
All so the abuser can life force extract 

A new life’s love and joy ransacked 
Growing up learning love is a transactional act 

Darkness no sunlight can counteract  
A planet busters impact 

No child can survive intact 

Do Not Tell by VJ Knutson

No one told me, 
in my haste to grow up, 
that adulthood, awash 
with responsibility, 
would also be lonely 

And, no one told me 
that the days and nights 
of sweating over lessons 
would likely not lead 
to the life imagined 

nor that commitment – 
the kind portrayed in movies – 
does not exist – the word itself 
bearing more substance 
than the act, fickle as it is 

No one told me that 
motherhood would change 
my reality permanently, 
colouring it with unfathomable 
pain and joy – such juxtaposition 

And, no one told me that 
every battle I ever arm myself for, 
regardless of its justification, 
is really a struggle with self – 
inner demons the most menacing. 

I never imagined that age, 
with seismic force, 
would alter my perspective so – 
leave me barren and yet enriched, 
enthralled with the ordinary 
and unfazed by the rest 

And, in the end, as I watch 
the vernal rains announce renewal, 
in the quiet of my solitude, I am 
amazed and grateful for all 
that this crazy, driven life has become 
and that no one ever told me. 

*This is an edited version of a poem published in April, 2019. 

Published in Pine Cone Review – Survival Issue

I am so pleased and grateful to Susmita Paul – Founder and Editor-in-Chief, and all those on the editorial team facilitating the selection process at Pinecone Review, for accepting my piece Sleeping in Colors for this special edition! How wonderful to have been chosen to be amongst these talented writers, poets, and artists in this issue on such a relevant topic in today’s world. Thank you so much! I am honored to be in this publication.

You can find this online edition by clicking HERE. I do hope you enjoy all the valuable contributions presented there. You can find all their thoughts by clicking on the Prose, Poetry, and Visual Artworks tabs at the bottom of the post.

Reblogs – Eugenia Hoffman & Weronika Donovan

Each circumstance that tangles with us, mussing up our lives, will eventually lead to nightmares, or?

Uncertainty by Eugenia Hoffman

the world in constant flux
blame the vicissitudes of life
no mercy for the powerless

Nightmares by Weronika Donovan

I climbed the highest building
fighting down my fears
of falling to the void
where I lived without you.
I sat on the edge
risking everything I had
only to show you
how bright the sky was.
I waited there
for you to show up
so I could tell you
the words I kept in my chest.

But I’d fallen asleep
waiting for you
and my dreams
were full of stories
I couldn’t remember.
None of them
looking like you.
They had skin ripped off
from their faces.
Screaming out
painfully blurred words.

And you were there
squeezing my hand
so hard I could feel the pain
running through my veins.
You brought me to the light
where everyone could see us
bleeding out together
and they did nothing.
So, I stood there
let them gnawing on your bones
until you disappeared
appeared in my nightmares.

Rising Published on MasticadoresUSA!

Life is hard; we all know this. But I always hope that each of us retains a bit of hope and strength to get through the bad times. I’m sure that most of the readers who visit here, know that about me. This piece, which I’m so happy that Gabriela Milton, Editor of MasticadoresUSA, has accepted for publication, speaks about the heaviness of days gone wrong and the determination in spite of it. Enjoy!

Rising

already exhausted upon awakening
the day begins anew

while the brain is slow
the body is even slower

what weighs me down
isn’t easily lifted…

Please read the rest of the piece at MasticadoresUSA

Reblogs – Jen Goldie & Marisela Brazfield

Agonizing over chaos – whatever form it may take. Haven’t we all been there?

Synchronic Chaos by Jen Goldie

A broken Heart is caused by synchronized chaos 
The result is: 
agonized confusion, 
shortness of breath, 
a gaping mouth 
sans sound, 
silently screaming. 

of us lost angels by Marisela Brazfield

promises are like water to me
for you they quench temporarily 
all that i fear for you and us 
like the thirst of the dying 
i can stop making promises 
that i won’t agonize over the shit disease insanity violence and utter hell that we both see 
we can compromise and believe 
that there will be promises of better life 
like we will plant flowers 
but they might not smell like roses 
as the smell of decay clings 
promises can be multi everything 
disciplinary lateral purpose conscience 
promises are sugar and wine 
rat poison 
one daft note fleeting in the wind 
a fart or love 
i can’t tell where we are going 
or how to get on this new road 
let’s not make promises anymore 
let’s just stay eye to eye 
let’s just see what i will do 
how i will move and act and love and lose 
i refuse to promise that i will not turn the other way 
if you don’t promise that you will make this inferno go away 
i will say that i can accept my heart broken 
and that when the camera flashes your way 
remember that humility diligence and hard work are the better red carpet accessory 
for you 

our queen of us lost angels 

Processing

Inspired by Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Compassion &
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #209 – My brain has too many tabs open

it’s hard to explain
to those not suffering from anxiety
life feels about to explode from the inside out

thoughts are on hyper-drive
garbled fine-tuning recycling constantly turned over thoughts
feelings manifest as super-overwhelmed

have tender compassion and understanding
and support those who are recovering as best they can
when they say “my brain has too many tabs open”



Refined

life holds me in its grasp
confined to this world
patiently awaiting occurrences
comatose at times
intermittent joy at others
mostly bored or riddled stiff with being
with each jarring
life rasps the essence of me finer
the wholeness diminished
there’s less of me
until there is nothing left
this is the cycle of life