Good Night

Farewell, My Dear

Lady in black, standing
silently in mourning.
Tears gently slip down cheeks
as she watches another
loss fade away beneath
grassy hills, dew soaked green.
Tragedy strikes rapid
onslaughts of decaying
relationships, fading
into dust.  Sobs burst ash
floating soft, smoke and fog.

Random Write for Today

I don't have time - never enough time.  Writing can be such a self-focused and selfish time drain.  I need time to get the thoughts out though, random and without reason.  Stream-of-consciousness sometimes just floats rhymically like waves.   A soothing ocean sound upon the beaches of Northern California.  You can feel the coolness breeze upon flesh.  The greyness that engulfs the sky, and the rocky cliffs that rise up in defiance to the sea.   

The ocean roars with thundering clashing into the rocks, slowly eroding them away with time.  Patience is on it's side... time is on it's side... as I will not be here tomorrow to witness the constant onslaught because time is not on mine... and patience slipped away just yesterday.

I once was political, err - if you consider writing political idealogoy but not sharing it with a single soul.  Counter intiutive, I believe - yet that was me.  Hiding behind an exterior that no one would suspect lied a rebel with a cause, but whose voice was soft and meek... unwilling to speak.  Shaking, shivering upon a podium - giving a speech that brought applause and praise... and still, unwilling to speak.  

Shame, what a shame to live a life in hiding.  What a shame to fear others... to be exposed and to be known.  That is what held me back, myself.  I stay hidden, yet I am better than I ever been in speaking.  Words, they can be formed poetically, or interesting - but the biggest use is to convey a message, a meaning... to have a purpose.  

What is the purpose of my blog?  To share my thoughts and emotions... writings.. dribble drablle and to seek self-glorification? No.  It's to connect, and to rise up out of the shadows I've hidden in for my entire life.  It's to reclaim myself, and rise out of the ashes of fear.  No more fear, no more not being myself.  

Life is too short to worry about what others think, or what you may say may come come back and hurt you... life is too short to worry, and waste time with undue stress and unreal fears.  

Success, that is the biggest fear I have.  I have always been my worse enemy, but that has been changing.  It's easier to fail than it is to succeed.  Success begins with failure, and it's those who move through and carry on through that failure that eventually break through to success. Generalizations and cliches aside, it's time to thrive and be alive.  

It's time for me to start write a story already.  Okay, psyching myself up... next post will be a short story.  

Prose

C'est la vie...

Life goes on, ticking like a clock...

Time keeps moving, people

keep moving, cities never

sleep. Who waits to wallow

in the past, as the future

is only a second away.  

Move on, little man - 

Bigger, better things 

Await..wait, it's too 

late to escape

The bigger, better

fate. Destiny locked

in place...  

Life goes on, ticking

away.  Stop waiting,

watching - unpause

your motionless,

and get your act 

together.  

She's gone, silently

into the night.  Moving

with the people, the

sea in the city, washed

away by the tide

of time, ticking 

into the future - 

to  a bigger, better

fate.  

A Quick Write

Capitalism's Sacraficial Lamb

Purity is innocence, and
    perfection measured
             in Gold.
The more pure, the
    more the value.
            Innoncence
Is bought and sold
     with purity
         perfected gold.
Innocence,
      incapable to succeed,
             for human nature
bleeds sins with ease.

Yearn for purity,
     Sinking, soft,
            Death.

Gold weighs the
      World, and the
          World is found

Lacking.

Random Words on a Sunday Night

Between

Both right and wrong, 

Lies hidden truths lost from

Time.  Where does the facts of life go?

Between,

Fiction

And truth.  Facts fade

From the memory of

All.  Gossip runs rampant amongst

People.

Love once

Held dreams and hope,

But now only allow

Moments of pain to explode forth

Vision.

Time waits

For no man to

Find himself.  Where will one

Go to explore the inner works

Of him?

Today,

Not tomorrow,

Is the day we must choose

To begin to live anew, life

Begins.

Sorrow,

Memory of

Yesterday. Tomorrow

The future holds hope of much more.

Freedom.

Where does

One find the stregnth

To overcome burden

And setback? Independence lies

Within.

Escape

Within words that

Hide the self from all who

May bring forth pain and judgement to

Your world.

The lies

Are thick upon

The eyes of those who dare

Not disobey society.

Righteous,

Follow

The ones who start

From the beginning of

Time and set forth rules the keep them

Control.

_____________

Emotions rise up within,

Though I cannot speak them,

Nor describe how I feel.

Numbness defends any

Communication that may

Bring forth peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She held my heart, then through it away. 

Done into the gutter it went, drowned by rain.

Another found it, breathed life upon it, hope - 

And then quickly retreated into the safety

Of silence.  Deafening despair followed,

And the original spat upon the heart... 

Laughter filled the air,

And I felt nothing

But dread and despair.

Laughter filled the air...

_____________________

Who am I to speak of truth? I run, I hide, and ignore the proof.

It's there, right before my eyes.  She laughs, she yells, she cries...

Truth is, I honestly don't know.  I never had any control....

It washed away, and all that's left is a memory of what once was,

And I hold on to a dream that I wandered upon.

___________________

Quick words striked  upon keys, creative process indeed.  

Let the words flow that may lead, to something that may be

Breaking, and new... and perhaps lead to some clue

Of where I shall go from here.  There's been nothing but fear,
Leading me every day.  What do I want? I cannot say.

My poetry I cannot feel, my writtings, to her, do not appeal.

I don't write for me, but to catch her eyes.  Does she watch?

Does she read?  I don't think, I can't speak, and she doesn't know why.

Weak, afraid... she has control and I can't take it away.  

Every day is a struggle, and I just want to be me, to be free...

I think that's where this is headed, down a dead end street.

Plain, non-poetic, just straight up raw feelings... She said we're through,

And perhaps that is true.  Will I wake up, drink some coffee

And smell the bull  - this is the end?  A wife, a son, and a man - 

A triangle, a circle, three not one, nor two... but we are through.

She said so, and I am proof... I don't try, I don't speak... I just hide

What I feel inside.  She doesn't know why, or maybe she does...

A muse floated by, touched my soul, brought back my sight...

And then the muse went away but left me life... passion inside.

None that I can share with her... she can't feel me anymore, and

Maybe she never could.  Just judgement, harsh and sore,

Of the horror that men are.. unfaithful to the core.

Unfaithful to the Lord, unfaithful to their wives...

I can say I was never unfaithful, but heart strives

To show the truth.  I'm cold, indifferent, removed...

I can't feel no matter how hard I try, and no matter

What, I cannot cry.  Numb to the bone, numb as stone.

~~~~~~~

Trickle down, into a gutter,

Runoff of life.  I have disolved

Into the flow of the world,

And become filled with filth

In the sewers beneath the city.

___________

Little boy, please do not speak.  

I can't hear myself think.  

Little boy, please do not cry,

I can't feel myself breathe.

Father runs, and hides from

The one he is to raise.  

Absent, unavailable, broken,

Father runs and hides

From the one he is to raise.

Where do we learn to be men?

From those who are ghost,

From those who are dead,

From those who are gone

And involved in selfish pursuits.

Father, where are you?  I am

One too.  Guidance I need, but

You do not speak, nor do you hear

The cries that were sent.  Where 

Are you? Was your money well spent?

Little boy, please do not speak

I can't hear myself think.

Please, for the life of me do not cry,

I can't inhale, I can't breathe...

No voice I have, no stregnth to lead.

I can't hear, I can't speak, I can't breathe...

I will not cry, nor I will I hide...

For the little boy is also me. 

Goodnight

Moonlight Solo

White incandescent

reflecting lonliness across

the night sky.  

Poets of G+ Writting Prompt

James Dugger

Prompt of the Week  -  6:54 PM

Memoir
By Louise Glück

I was born, Under the sign of Taurus.
I grew up on an island, prosperous,
in the second half of the twentieth century;
the shadow of the Holocaust
hardly touched us.

I had a philosophy o flove, a philosophy
of religion, both based on
early experience within a family.

And if when I wrote I used only a few words
it was because time always seemed to me short
as though it could be stripped away
at any moment.

And my story, in any case, wasn't unique
though, like everyone else, I had a story,
a point of view.

A few words were all I needed:
nourish, sustain, attack.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Response - A Memoir
by James Dugger

I, too, was born cautious, under the same sign
yet that's where our similarities end.

I was an island, lacking sustenance
Beneath the shadow of poverty
Touched constantly by death.

Religion was an escape, philosophy
was a street mentality that
often lead to loss.

I never spoke, I never wrote
time appeared never ending
as I prayed for it all
to be stripped away.

My story intertwines with others,
each passing day links connect
to new chapters of a novel
written by many authors.

One word describes it all:
Suffer.

Nourishment was fueld
by injustice
Lack of understanding
and immesnse passion
Sustaining rage
attacking all percieved
to hold power.

Now I hold that power
And nothing has changed.