Tag Archive | sorrow

Alone

Biography of Being

Ever since my childhood I’ve been too much unlike
Other people. I’ve never perceived things the way
They are seen by most others. I do not complain.
For the first time in my life I know I’m insane
But there still is an enormous price I must pay
For the harm that I cause while my mind is on strike.

I cannot get excited about the same things
That would turn on most anyone else without fail.
I’m not sad for the same reasons that others are.
I’ve not felt the same happiness. It’s very far
From that felt by most others in oddest detail.
A victim I have been through my false beginnings.

Everything that I loved I loved all quite alone.
Back when I was a little one loved and cared for
I uncovered for better or worse mysteries
Of existence that nary another one sees.
I know that I am here to experience more
Than the average seeker. My strange life has shown.

From the natural places this earth shows to me
Come the questions and answers that are of essence
To the best of my knowing that all is okay.
This world I am a part of. The part that I play
May seem small but in essence it’s rather immense.
All that I must do now is be happy to be.

On The Passing Of A Dear Friend

Pools of Damping Vibration

It’s always surprising – inevitable news
Of the passing of someone. It happens to all.
Yet it still causes ripples through one’s consciousness.
I speak some about death here, but I must confess
That what I know of anything is rather small
As the shock wave consuming I cannot refuse.

A dear friend with a heart of pure gold is most rare.
Why they spend a brief while here is not to be known –
At least not by the living. The lesson I’ve learned
From this one of pure spirit may now be discerned
In the depths of my sorrow. I feel not alone
In her presence or absence. I’ve learned how to care.

And this isn’t about me. It is about she
Who’s most angelic presence is felt in her smile.
Bright and Pearlie, her essence is straight from her heart.
Down to earth is her wholesomeness with human art.
Fun and games she’s a master of. Her friendly style
Generates warmth within folk whomever they be.

I’ll remember her laughter, the warmth of her heart,
And her kind, loving nature. She has taken wings
And is now one with Spirit. Some envy I feel.
The impact of her sudden loss I can’t conceal.
There is now new meaning to my own offerings
To the people I love and of whom I’m a part.

A Spoonful Of Contrition

A Most Selfish Act

I must know that I’m worthy although I’ve done wrong.
For my soul, I seek justice, but I must live on
So that I suffer vividly in solitude.
All who own me know they have the right to intrude
Upon my conscience all through the night until dawn.
My regret become karmic is where I belong.

All must seek retribution for what I have done.
As my life caves in on me, all that I should know
Is that some small redemption exists for this soul.
I don’t ask that the balance of my life be whole
But allow me the substance to pay what I owe
Otherwise, my existence is much worse than none.

But I can’t get there from here. I know for a fact
That I must have the feeling before conditions
Start to manifest for me. My sorrow blocks it.
How do I balance karma if I’m poorly fit
To function as a human among sacred ones
Who provide my life lessons with relative tact?

Universe, please connect me to all I deserve.
I have no fear in asking; just guide me somehow.
With my head hung in sorrow, intense is my shame.
I hate that I have no one but myself to blame.
Can the Law Of Attraction still let me allow?
Or am I just a screwed one with colossal nerve?

Though I can be facetious in this agony
The damned knot in the stomach is losing its voice.
If it’s silenced completely, is my life ended?
Or will I find relief from existential dread?
Seeing myself as worthy is my only choice.
I cannot turn by back on deciding to be.

Rain Is Right For A Monday

The Periodic Psychic Cleansing

I appreciate rainfall as much as sunshine.
If to me there’s a difference between the two
Then there’s something wrong with me, but not on this day.
It is time for the business of slipping away
To a deep introspection. Whatever I do
Will be worthwhile in spirit. This day will be fine.

Rain is such a fine cleansing of heart and of mind.
Nature puts things in order. Her ways outweigh those
Of the whole of humanity. Therein I learn
To succumb to the rhythmic patterns I discern
In the simplistic trickling as surely it slows
The functions of societies of humankind.

For those souls in the rat race, Monday is the start
Of a week of performing the best that one can.
Companies are the backbones of economies.
We The People are droplets they need to appease.
All together we flow. Every woman and man
Is the priming the pump needs. We each play a part.

Let the rain be the cover that I need today.
Gravity is its calling. The times are severe.
I’ll learn how to discover this world and my place
In its intricate workings, and may it erase
The effects of exhaustion because of my fear.
May my life that is dirtied be cleansed in this way.

Life Or Death

Choice Or Sentance

It’s a matter of being – or not being here.
In one tenth of an instant all life could be gone.
Then what happens thereafter? Don’t go there so fast.
Though the grips of electrons at best only last
But a non-fatal flailing… do curse the new dawn.
Obstacles are withstanding. I can’t disappear.

Fascination I’m left with – it’s all that remains –
For the movement of particles… or anything
Well accustomed to light speed. I live for the spark
That gives honor to contrast between light and dark.
Only when it gets awful, destructive thinking
Leaves me languidly livid – the worst of all pains.

Living just for this moment, relief I do find.
Distraction from rejection is re-translation
Of the latter to loveliness, but at a cost
To the hurtful part of me who is rather lost
In this world become nasty beyond all reason.
Can creatures like electrons be known to be kind?

 If ever the thereafter consumes my yearning
For the pain to be over, the present is one
That cannot be mistaken for past rotten deeds
Perpetrated in darkness for my selfish needs.
That I get to remain here, true justice is done.
On no thin thread of mercy I’m willing to cling.

A Tear And A Smile

The Faces Of Life

With my face I’m an actor upon the earth stage.
I would not exchange sorrows of my heart for joys
Of the multitude fruitful. I’d not have the tears
Sadness makes to flow from me to laughter and cheers.
With a tear and a smile I give faith to my ploys.
None of life’s hidden secrets shall cause me outrage.

May the tear unite me with those of broken hearts
And the smile be the sign of my joy in being.
This, the crux of the framework for living life well,
Can become just the story that I’m meant to tell
To the world that gave birth to me, and it will bring
Episodes that are balanced in all of their parts.

I want hunger for love and beauty to be strong
In the depths of my spirit, for I have seen those
Who are satisfied being most wretched and vile.
Sighs of those I’ve heard yearning and Longing a while
Are the sweetest melody that one could compose.
May the hunger consume me as I play along.

Vapor rises from sea water. Clouds they become
That float above and over the hills and valleys
‘til eventually they encounter a breeze
Then fall weeping their way back to rivers and seas.
To encounter life’s cycles with relative ease
Is a role I’m worth playing and where I act from.

The Saddest Lines

The Story Unending

I could write some sad lines with this sorry assed life,
And it don’t take too damned much to jerk myself off.
In some ways it’s a blessing perfecting the fool
So that love has a purpose to earn ridicule
From the sensible masses. The dog whistle cough
Is a thickness I cut through with my psychic knife.

In her heart she defeats me, and I know not why
In the midst of eternity now should occur.
 Incremental dissolving of love not cared for
And forever unspoken I cannot ignore.
How I long for the sweetness of things as they were
Is the reason I can’t go for a second try.

Some unknown evil spirit has occupied me.
What has taken my feelings infiltrates the void
Where my heart felt at home once. The unwanted guest
Is the hermit made harlot at one with my nest.
Will I get myself back without being destroyed?
Time I have plenty of. I shall just wait and see.

I can write through the darkness as if it were light.
Make believe is an artform the whore understands.
Illusion may expel her or turn her into
A benevolent entity. These lines are few
And the last to be offered. Survival demands
That I learn, then move on with improvement in sight.

When I Die

At The Point of Return

How can there be an ending? The sun, when it sets,
Will again rise, and swiftly. This world I’ll not miss.
Don’t lament, or feel sorrow, or shed any tears.
Know that I am in joy as your grief disappears.
I’ll have not fallen into a monster’s abyss.
Knowing then love eternal, I’ll have no regrets.

As my carcass is lowered, please don’t say goodbye,
For I won’t be there hanging out. I’ll be set free.
But a curtain is grieving to the paradise
That exists just behind it where being is nice.
Beyond cosmos eternal is where I will be.
There’s no need for a full-scale parade when I die.

From the seed that is buried new life will arise,
Every day and forever. This also is true:
When the bucket is lowered down into the well
It comes back full of water. My wish is to quell
Any feelings of loss to the awfully few
Who may come to become witness to my demise.

Much of this is from Rumi. I messed with it some.
It retains his intent, though. At least I think so.
Seriously, his outlook shows deepness of heart.
My respect is for what his ideas impart
To this poet in training. To others I owe
Gratitude for my content from who much does come.