Tag Archives: writing

Insanity

Sometimes
I feel like
no matter how hard I try
I just can’t get it right.

Every ounce of effort
is positive and forward.
I am determined
but still short.

The emotion
of cyclic failure
is wearing me down.

My mind has become foggy
short-circuiting and skipping
words are misplaced
and memories are incomplete
or even erased.

While patience and calm exude from the outside,
it is utter pandemonium within.
How far down can this stress drag me?
And why do I let it take over again and again?

Are my expectations too high?
Does perfection seem a reality?
Is this insanity?

One thing is for certain.
If I continue on like this
there will be nothing left of me.
Only dreams of a life
that could be.

Dark Sky

Far from the pulse of lights
removed to a desert of sandstone
the sky reveals itself new
in the banks of night.
Stars slowly encroach the darkness
gleaming from the infinite beyond.
The air has lost the haze
replaced with the milky ribbons
of distant white.

Swollen

The clouds move
like an army
over the mountain.
Their bellies barely
scraping the jagged edges
and tips of pines.
With each moment,
they grow larger
swallowing the last
of blue sky.
The wisps become thickets
of dark grey and white.
Though they are quick to pass
through a maze
of valleys and peaks
they stagnate
on the far east edge
and begin to release
days of rain
that they have been keeping inside.
Dousing the plains
and slinking further up
until
there is nothing left
to hide.

The Fires Around Us

World to ashes
but our feet still on ground
carrying burdens
cast to us by
a selfish and needy past,
leaving nothing unfound.

We are left
to prove the impossible
rebuild from the broken
fragments of life
grieve for realities forever lost
and whisper memories of another time.

Why couldn’t this be stopped?
Is a question on all our minds
when the easily forgotten answer
is because you chose to be blind.

Do nothing
and receive nothing in return.
The savage destiny
we have built for ourselves.
The Earth continues to decay
and we stare at the inevitable
refusing to understand fate.

Can you not see
the fire burning at your feet?
It doesn’t care who you are
or what you could become.
The fire will consume everything
until it is all gone.

In the End

Part I

The Earth has died, but we are still here. Living.

What has been left to us is dust. Clouds of it erasing the distance and swallowing horizons whole. We have covered the windows and taped all the seams, yet the smallest of particles still find their way in. Piling in the corners and ensnaring bits on our bare feet.

The Sun has become more powerful. There is no longer a layer to protect us from it’s blinding rays, the power of it’s ultraviolet light altering everything in it’s wake. Within the Day the rays stretch over the land, piercing anything unblemished; radiation consuming the ground. Not even the dust can save you.

We have become accustomed to the Night. Only then is it safe to wonder beyond a door, be it armed with a filter mask, layers of leather upon your skin, and a heavy knife. Never forget your knife.

The oceans are incubators, filled with the toxic aroma of death. The shorelines stretch deep into the land, extending miles beyond their said origins. Storms rage upon them for weeks at times, creating acid rains and winds that pulverize any remains among the abandoned cities.

Humanity once cared for one another. But that care has been replaced with fear. This fear is not like what our grandparents knew. It is ugly and traced with anger, confusion, and blame. No one wants to live in this world, but no one wants to die in it either. Yet we are the ones who made it this way.

In the Rain

This patter of rain
could lull me to sleep.
A warm dog at my feet
and the softness of a lantern light.
The night cooling with each drop.
I wish it to never stop.

Headache

The way
my head aches
from this medication
is nowhere close
to sedation.

The vessels
are swelling
in my brain.
Vibrating and undulating,
tightening into a tensile pain.

I never had headaches before.
The one or few a year
just a price for drinking
a bit more.
But now it happens
at least twice a day.
I just don’t think
I can bear any more.