Tag Archives: war

We’ll See, I Suppose

Good afternoon, friends. I am very tired today. Very tired for a long time now. I don’t believe it’s quite coming to a head. This is just how it is now. I won’t ever give up, of course. I refuse. I will keep going. Keep doing my best. It doesn’t get easier, but it does get easier. My dreams will not be just dreams. Perception is reality. We can all take a lesson from that, I think. Finding myself never stops. Finding yourself never stops. That’s the fun part. Somewhat sad poem for you today. Maybe I’m easier to figure out than I think.

Self-Sufficient

You want me to be honest?

You want me to tell the truth?

I am tired.

I am spent.

I just need to go home and sleep.

Go home and be in my bed.

To stow and hide away my heart and mind.

To hold my broken heart in your hands.

How it must be to know such power.

Intoxicating, perhaps.

I only wish you would care for it

Cherish it, the way a lover would.

Sew me up

Put me back together

Pick up all my pieces but you’re missing the tape

I don’t hurt anymore

Just the slow thumping in my chest

My blood still flows just the same

Somehow it comes to pass that I breathe without lungs

Pump blood with no heart

See with no eyes

And touch with no hands

All things I give to you freely

That you take and take without recess

So that now I have nothing left

Except that I do

I am breathing

I am Seeing

And I am feeling

Those Riders Four

I bring to you a scene. A fog settles over you. Sirens begin to sound. The sky breathes and heaves with fire and smog. You can’t find your keys, not that you could see to drive. A haze so thick and so permeant that you can barely see your reflection in the windows of a nearby house. A cacophony of sirens and horns that slowly eases into a low drone replaced by not-so-distant screams. You think you feel something nearby in the mist. Something breathing. Skittering, scuttling things in the…

Miasma

A diseased, pestilent miasma settles over the glen

A fog so thick you can barely see your hand

Ancient runes and sacred stones replaced by boils and pustules of horrid ooze

Peace is lost and hardly found

Wear a mask to hide your face

Prepare yourself for the coming race

The sage has wilted, mistletoe rotten

As trees wither and become forgotten

A swamp to take its place

Monsters march in malodorous mist

Forming together some demonic tryst

They watch and stalk you through the smog

You’ve lost your way

Landmarks vanish

Compasses don’t work here.

Everything gone awry

Their eyes watching every step you take

Waiting for your first mistake

Gnashing teeth and demonic screams in cacophonous harmony

Though hardly could you describe their cruel countenance

You must find a new place

Far and away in outer space

But first to win the race

And avoid the demon’s gaze

Reflecting Pool

Afternoon! I have nothing I need to do today. An easy Sunday. I’ll be using today to reflect on everything that’s been happening. Most could probably agree that’s needed. I’ve been keeping up with the invasion of Ukraine and my heart goes out to the people of Ukraine and the defense of their homeland. Godspeed.

Reflections

forever in your footsteps

as they happen

as they happened

it walks beside you

same gait

same cadence

it follows

perhaps it leads

forever in your footsteps

as they happen

I Am Angry

I am more angry than I have ever been. Seething. Burning. I am undervalued. Undersold. Powerless and voiceless in a world that would forget my life and experiences and relationships as if they were a blip on nobody’s radar, were I to disappear today. It’s not that no one cares. Many, many people care. I am not alone. Far from it. I am loved by so many people. I know this. I value this. It is the many who treat this world as a playground, the many who treat this world as a plaything, to be used and thrown away. Opportunities are scant, pay is a pittance, the climate in decline, the true Great War on the horizon… How are we to not be disillusioned? How are we to not be angry? Lacking purpose and guidance my generation trudges on through the slowly hardening concrete poured by generations before, hardening and slowing our progress, turning the Earth into a desolate wasteland we alone will survive to navigate. With no guidance, we must find our own way. We must save ourselves and our world. No one else will. And I am angry.

Eaten Away

there is beauty in this slow decay

extant expression

deterioration

hazel eyes, so much light

a facade, hidden from sight

a mind gone bad

past its due date

just a tad

Monsters Under My Eyelids

Good morning. Every day is an opportunity. Gotta keep telling myself that. A child, faced with a monster, closes their eyes. What do they do when they’re still there in the dark behind their eyelids? What do you do when you close your eyes but you can still see those things you find most terrifying? Grab your little toy hammer and grasp it tight. Face them down. First and foremost, you are your own protector. Become a hero to yourself and you will find peace.

Die Helden von Einst

that’s where i want to be

not waiting to see

not fleeing, but flying, steadfastly alighting

my course, ever self righting

all’s well that ends well

building a boat

rise above the ocean swell

never to glean, never to gloat

a good man

realizing how i ran

never again

to find in others, that sacred glen

i find my peace

whence from me, you’ve taken a piece

amidst ancient stones, druidic hymn

not for him, just for him

Going east

searching for the beast

in the forest, hearing birdsong

i know the journey ahead will be long

Enduring quest

runic test

training and straining

the beast’s strength never waning

and with my spear and shield i trudge on

ever further, unto the dawn

drawing strength from heroes past

knowing my line will not be the last

von Helden komme ich

und Held werde ich sein