Why not Wednesday?

A note to those I have demonized

I no longer put myself in your shoes
I hardly see you as human

Your perspective is different than mine
and although I have the ability to see your side
I refuse to, for you do not attempt to see through my lens

My struggles become greater than yours
and I block out your troubles – big and small
You cannot suffer as I do

How fortunate you are! I see your wealth
and I see how easy things are for you
You do what you want, when you want
with little regard for my interests or even my
NEEDS

I do not empathize with you
You have created your life around you
You have control and power over your SELF
and if you are in a bad situation –
it has been brought on by your
poor decisions and lack of wisdom

You do not seek my help
and I avoid your input
You have poured toxic waste
into my habitat creating cesspools
of misery in my ecosystem
drowning my vigor and smothering my
ESSENCE

I am contaminated by you

I wear goggles when I am around you
that preserve my eyes while altering my vision
of YOU

You scare me

I no longer trust you
and I have felt for some time
that you do not trust me

A bond is broken

I no longer understand you
I no longer attempt to
You do not attempt to understand me
You do not see me as I am

You don’t hear me

Or is it that you don’t listen?
Communication has malfunctioned
The repairman is out for the day,
for the month, the year

I don’t know how to fix it

Or I refuse to fix it

I am tired of bending
I feel I have broken in so many places
I feel that I have attempted
to build a bridge between us
and that you have set it on fire

I am sensitive

I cut the bonds with those who hurt me
My skin is thin
I cannot take your criticism
I think you give it without consideration
of my ABILITIES, my TALENTS, my STRENGTH
I feel you give it unsolicited
I feel you judge me
and I will not hesitate to fight
fire with fire

I have judged you

I have condemned you

If you were a building
I would not enter

If you were a bed
I would not lie there

If you were a meal
I would not partake

If you were salvation
I would burn in HELL

You are a living demon
and if I have not cut you
out of my life yet…

I will.

Why Not Wednesday?

“Walk Unafraid,” Lyrics by R.E.M.

As the sun comes up, as the moon goes down
These heavy notions creep around
It makes me think, long ago
I was brought into this life a little lamb
A little lamb
Courageous, stumbling
Fearless was my middle name.
But somewhere there I lost my way
Everyone walks the same
Expecting me to step
The narrow path they’ve laid
They claim to
Walk unafraid
I’ll be clumsy instead
Hold me, love me or leave me high.

Say “keep within the boundaries if you want to play.”
Say “contradiction only makes it harder.”
How can I be
What I want To be?
When all I want to do is strip away
These stilled constraints
And crush this charade
Shred this sad masquerade
I don’t need no persuading
I’ll trip, fall, pick myself up and
Walk unafraid
I’ll be clumsy instead
Hold me, love me or leave me high.

Just Another Music Monday

I’d rather be a hammer than a nail
Yes I would, if I only could, I surely would

Looking Too Closely by Fink

El Condor Pasa (If I could)

Walk Unafraid covered by First Aid Kit

Honesty by Fink

To a Poet by First Aid Kit

How can I be
What I want To be?
When all I want to do is strip away
These stilled constraints
And crush this charade
Shred this sad masquerade

My Life as a Word

If my life is an ocean deep,
I cannot control the barrage of waves,
the frigid waters, nor the undertow
dragging me to the depths

If my life is a forest fire
I cannot control the wind fanning the flames,
save the woodland creatures fleeing in terror,
nor escape the scorching heat
threatening to turn me to ash

If my life is a vast, dry desert
I cannot command the rain to fall,
the drought to end, nor cast the sun from the sky
though it burns my skin

If my life is an afflicted plague
I cannot control its spread,
it’s path of destruction, or the numbers
it kills through perilous infection

If my life is a car without brakes
I cannot stop the fuel, slow the speed,
nor save all that lies in my path
though surely the wreckage is inevitable

If my life is me
All I have is me,
and what’s perhaps in my pocket –
not much, no ring of elven gold, but maybe
some chap stick and string –

All I control are these aching bones
attached to my withering limbs
and slackening skin

but also I command my language;
I have a ferocity with words
and often unleash them without thought,
they are my last defense.

I build a life raft of syllables uttered from these lips
I create a proverbial shield against the bombardment of fire
and run away on legs made from quick-witted phrases
I dig a hole with my spade of savvy repertoire, collecting
dew on a makeshift leaf of colloquium and self-talk
to filter tears of discourse to drinking water

I wear a murmuring mask articulating both the danger
and saving grace of infectious confabulation
I jump from moving vehicles with a parachute of parlance
and cushion my fall with doublespeak softness

There is redemption in language and controlling one’s own voice
There is power in joining your speech and your mind
to conquer villains of the world and of the imagination

If my life is a word
it is resilient. 

The Uncanny Heart

I know this to be a broken heart
I know this from experience
I recognize this malady
this discomfort this ache

Broken ribs pierce a lung,
air slowly seeps into the cavity,
now empty, where my heart resided
before it burst, shattering ribs
puncturing the lung
not enough to kill me,
just enough to make me tired,
something about not enough oxygen to the brain
as it slowly fills the empty space,
leeching useless into the body
it no longer feeds

The twinge of vacancy
causing glazed eyes, mislaid thoughts,
forgotten desires…motives not worth the effort
of their eventual loss.

But this uncanny feeling is not what confuses me –
there is comfort in its familiarity
and shelter in the dark,
no hazards to lose what is not there –
what elation, what faith, what ambition?
All absent with the forfeiture of my core –

What obscures conclusion
is that no injury has occurred,
no sudden travesty or infirmity,
so what has generated such a heartache,
a brain sickness?

What is missing, save happiness itself –
which can still be found in
the blue sky
a good song
time with friends
a joke, a laugh
books and escapism –
an unsettling lack of loss dictates
at least an indifferent condition be established
– but not the torment of
heartbreak

Bits of mystery spill from the
Pandora box that now endures
in the airy space under my sternum.

Press on.
Let lack of heart not be distraction,
No more to wear upon my sleeve,
only a secret my face cannot keep.

 

The Path of Enlightenment

I never used to whisper.
My voice was loud, up to a raucous disturbance in need of a “Shush!”
I never used to be quiet

I never used to hesitate.
Words and ideas would spill, tumbling out of my mind.
I was eager to share. I was most often right. I provided solutions.
I never used to keep silent.

I never used to sit still.
Desk work was never an option, only an afterthought.
I would run, move, jiggle, and squirm, hum and tap my foot to music.
Or no music. There was always something, a magical force unseen that drove movement.
I never used to be lethargic.

I never used to feel hopeless.
I believed that change was possible, and that we were drivers of it.
I watched Trews, true news, news you can trust, Russell Brand.
I read Jezebel and pushed articles on radical ideas of changing poverty, improving feminism.
I watched shows that made me laugh and dreamed of writing them.
I never used to despair.

I never used to be sad.
Sure, occasionally I was down, and then up and then down and then up.
I was happy when I watched stand up. I was happy at work and then at home.
It was said I was an optimist once – that I cannot believe.
I would read in escapism, a happy tale with a happy ending.
I was confident and assured which led to fun and adventure, endless.
I never used to cry.

I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to
I never used to

I never used to feel trapped in a system, an endemic cage of systematic oppression and perjury, purging the weak and disadvantaged.

While I could see the terror, I was never close enough to feel the heat of its breath
and the anguish of inevitably, inescapable.
Now I am one with the poor, the oppressed, share that mindset, that destitution of the lonely, the hungry.
The axiom of detriment being you are not that way because you are deprived, but you are deprived because you are that way, born that way. The deserving sentence of punishment for a pre-crime caught by the pre-cog submitted in report, with no minority.

Witness the utmost veracity in the irrefutable fact of violence committed against those unworthy of their abuse.

I never used to wreak havoc with the system.
I never used to be a thorn in the side.
I never used to hold a candle to the dark.

Perfection is tedium. Consistency is lifeless. The path we are on anticipates the death of many. Mental, Physical and Spiritual Deaths.

And we are all constructing the path together, knowing it leads to the abyss of anguish, agonizing over how we place each brick but rushing the job so we can make the most profit before we perish, buried with avarice, a shovel, and some dirt. Back from what we came. Making each of these trivial pursuits and malicious stipends, ripped from the mouths of babes, useless.

I never used to be useless.

Just Another Music Monday

I sit at work, hands on my temples, rubbing. I press my palms against my ears but even that does not prevent the mall music from getting in, a pervasive ear worm begins to burrow, “right about now, the funk soul brother r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r”, pounding like an epileptic heartbeat distracting from the task at hand.

Good thing it’s almost the end of the workday, and I can have a fresh start tomorrow, tugging my iPod and headphones along with me to work. Office work never did look pretty from a mall window – the least I can do is drown out the sound of marketing, consumerism, and the murmur of too-old people with nothing to do.

Check out my (mainstream) music playlist for the ride home (can’t wait!). What are you de-stress songs at the end of the day? My winter is feeling…. alternative rock.

Only Joking by the Kongos

Shipwreck by USS

Take me to Church by Hozier

Come to Light by Arkells

Stolen Dance by Milky Chance