Monthly Archives: April, 2013

Enough

Sparrow looking at skyscrapers

Enough

Enough.

The world’s full up
of ‘cup half empty’ thinking,
rhetoric, and cynicism that shrugs
at the thought of leaving a
positive impact on someone else’s life,
that lies to itself, that a smile
can’t make things right,
that living is only a dog-eat-dog
breath away from failing to
take another step and, each day,
that we have to scrape at faces
just to get by

Enough, I said!

Enough already!

The world’s just fine being
as hard as it is just existing by
itself without the help of a million
pieces of pretentious, preposterous
credos that preach at us to step
on someone else just to get another
inch further by

Enough already!

Enough, I said!

Life’s too serious to be serious
all the time and what help are your
burdens when heaped, through frowns
and snips, on someone else’s side
but just another weight to bring them
down further to falling off this thin
tight rope walking line

Enough!

I said enough already!

We all have to coincide, some with
hands dealt worse and some with golden
fate on their side, but never the less
we can, just through pure good faith,
provide a smile, a hello, a helping hand
that might just arrive when someone else felt
the impossible against them, when they
thought, they considered, jumping ship
and plotted about of getting off this ride,

Enough already.

Just enough.

Can’t we just take one moment to
open our eyes, gain some damn
prospective and see that there’s so little
of precious time to be taking out our own
frustrations on someone else who has their
own complications without needing ours to
derive just another moment of misery that
causes only a row of dominos to fall,
spewing forth a negative line that goes onward
and onward, growing strong all the time
till it breaches the surfaces, reaches and
grows, gaining momentom and adding, wounding
as it shows just how terrible life is and
how nasty we can be-

Enough of it!

Enough already.

Just stop. Stop it right here, right now.
Life can be harsh enough and, that added stress?
It can stop right here, right now. Can stop through
you, through me, so for the sake of just making it
another day through the burdons of life
just…enough already.

Enough.

Alright?

___________________________________________

This is sort of a plea. One that just asks people to stop adding to the the trouble that already faces so many of us. To stop snarling at customer service reps or snapping at children, spouses. To stop being a pain in the ass just because it makes you feel a little better inside. To just gain a bit of perspective, realize how small one single life is and how everyone else is dealing with their own sort of strife.

Enough just came out in a tired tone that has been working its way inside my head for a while.  Here, on this site and in my life, I have made it a personal goal to just try and do everything possible to just keep my own burdens from piling on someone else. I don’t care if  I’ve had the worst day ever, I still put on a smile at the store, comment on how nice someone’s hair is or a shirt they are wearing, anything really cause I know I have no idea what they are going through. It is the whole ‘never pass up an opportunity to do something nice’ idea. Not to toot my own horn, of course but I just really enough making people smile, thinking that I might have just given then something to make life a lil’ better.  Anywho, hope you enjoyed enough and its rather babbling flow!

No Rest For The Wicked

No Rest For the Wicked

No Rest For The Wicked

Wicked, the name given because
of pure ambition, the drive that
separates me from those who have
given up their dreams in turn for
what might be considered a safer
secure “i-do-alright’ kind
of life, the title corralling me
out of commonalities and placing
me behind lines drawn, mind boggling
technicalities that would see me waste
my life away if I try to play the
game that they set out right,
refusing to jump through hoops
I end up on my own life blood,
the essence of my own time,

So I must stalk through shadows
in search of success and wade
through early morning hours
in pursuit of my happiness
while time slips mercilessly
ever onward in despite of my
drooping eyes and caffeine weakens,
the effects draining over time,
till I am left running on my
will alone though, thankfully,
it is on it that and my strengthening
pride that allows me on fumes
of consciousness to ride into the
sunrise coated horizon where I find
that, yet again, I’ve walked a line
that was thin and yet I did alright –

they say there’s no rest for the wicked
and, well, without it us ‘wickeds’ seem
to do just fine.

________________________________________________

Once again, back to a raw poem written at around two in the morning due to the hectic schedule I’m stuck on! I’ve got about three posts to get done but, once I do, I’ll be back on track with the stories/posts that need done on here. Thankfully, the new PC is working out alright and I’m already growing fond of it! That being said, I’m still forced into early morning hours, running on sheer will power alone rather than actual sleep or energy. Honestly, it is a wonder I haven’t just collapsed yet. Anywho, hope you enjoy the ranting above and, even more hopefully, I’ll be back on top of my posts this week!

When It Rains…

woman sitting with head in hands

When It Rains…

it pours. And a million times a million problems follow, creeping, slithering, and whispering until each nagging obligation seeps into your ears and becomes a roar that you swear will tear your head in two if just one more thing, if just one more, turns its black decaying, decrepit claws to you, begging with open hands to be dealt with, crying with gaping maws of mediocre malevolence, each issue immaterial but in your mind as solid as cement and yet, these beasts of beckoning are as easy to shatter as glass, and if you turn to face them, or if for help you ask, you find them nothing more than nagging shades that stand silent in the presence of determination and, when faced by responsibility, as if  made imaginary by the anti-material of which they are made, why, in the face of a responsible soul, this army of malingering creatures and each and every problem that rears its ugly face, they do simply what they do best-

they just fade.

 

__________________________________________

So, this one look a little odd to you? Yeah, it might. I happened to be forced onto my tablet because, in the middle of my last two weeks of class while final projects are coming up and I need to access critical information stored for an interview, my PC has taken to giving me the cold shoulder and refuses to turn on. Was it something I said? Did it feel used? Is this its way of saying that it needs space? Either way, when it rains, it pours and up above is a completely raw poem. That is, by the way, how most of my poems start. I either scrawl them on the white board or just start typing like a mad woman till it all comes out and, well, that is exactly what you see above.

Anywho, needless to say I might be missing a few crucial documents. You know, insignificant ones like my poem notes and all DBA text. A.k.a. that poem came directly from my fuming, but dealing with accordingly, heart. Enjoy and I hope your week is far better than the one I’ve been having!

 

 

Weathering The Storm

storm scenery

Weathering The Storm

The world, it can be wicked,
tossing to the wind what we
thought we knew, dashing beloved
memories against boulders, and
undoing what we’ve held so
tightly to,

but only through destruction,
do we learn to weather storms,
and only through abduction
do we learn what’s in store.

There’s a power in rebuilding,
being a phoenix among the ash,
we learn the answers to petty
questions, and the ones we
really need to ask,

We find out what’s important
who really loves us, what we need,
and we end up better people
because of tragedy.

So rise and be reminded that,
no matter what you’re going
through, the tempest can be
outlasted, and become a part
of you,

You can learn to harness
lightning, you can be the
brightest flash, the lighthouse
gleam of guidance for those
too afraid to ask.

You can summon forth the gale
winds and use them to fuel
the winds of change, you can
call down the heavy torrents to
help wash away the pain,

And you’ll learn to speak like thunder,
you’ll boom with every breath,
and with every new challenge that
faces you, you’ll grow stronger yet.

So become that force of nature
that in tragedy is reborn, and know
you can become a better person
from just weathering the storm.

_____________________________________________

Mornin’, folks. So this isn’t my normal Monday post, but this hasn’t exactly been a normal week, so I whipped up something that I’ve had in the works for a while to kick it off.  Hopefully, for anyone going through anything, this poem might shed some light on how to turn a bad situation into something good. It sucks when ‘the suck’ is happening, but we can choose to come out of it as better, stronger people. All you have to do is just keep going, and once you’ve made it through you’ll be battle ready when something decides to come at you again. Better yet, you’ll be able to help/talk someone through that sort of situation.

Anywho, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this simple rhyme.  It may be a bit crude, but the sentiment is what is truly in it’s heart.

Disturbed

Disturbed

Disturbed

 

It is being
Out of breath
When your mind
Is still running,
Begging for sleep
With reluctant eyes,
It’s a sigh passing parted
Lips while a scream rages
For peace as nails scratch
and voices clack on the inside.

___________________________________________________

So just a small one today. It’s  scrap that I want to work on further, but I like the idea enough to post it. I’d like to eventually play with some imagery in this one, and maybe elongate it just a lil’ to add a bit more feeling and description in as well. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

The Week’s End

People walking out door quickly

The Week’s End

Five days of souls dehydrating,
coffee residing in veins
where blood used to be,
bags under sunken eyes,
chunks of hair torn out,
laugh lines corrupted
and running south.

Left overs and patience
growing ever so thin,
chores and joy abandoned,
depression settling in,
sanity threatening a boycott,
hope and patience running out.


But the calendar, a cruel
methodical master, and its cohort
the meticulous clock, gather
to gawk, working together,
they sit and watch the
marionette’s strings pulled
taut, dangling and dancing
they chuckle and give a
whispering shout:


Welcome to the week’s end,
my finite little friends, and
enjoy it while you can
’cause time is running out.

____________________________

Congratulations, you’ve made it: Welcome to the weekend!  Enjoy it while it lasts and refuel because the dreaded M-word is heading back your way again. That dreaded clock and its friend the calendar never lay off, do they?  Oh well. Least we’ve got a few days of reprieve before heading back to the grind of it all!

As for news around here, now that I’ve gotten my final out of the way, I’ll be back to regular posting and getting out a chapter of Death By Analysis out this weekend to catch up on time lost. Other than that, I’ve got a few things coming next week that have to do with my utter appreciation for every follower/viewer that visits here, and a lovely poem in the works titled Death By Chocolate and, if it works out right, a little one called The Emperor’s New Clothes.

Anywho, here’s to your weekend being awesome and the hours going by slowly!

In Which Real Life Gets In The Way Of Things

coz-facepalm-has-gotten-too-mainstream

Alright, so my normal posting schedule is going to be a bit off. Chapter two of DBA will have to wait until this weekend, though I will get it out so Chapter 3 is right on time. Though I would like nothing more than to keep up the posting spree I have been on, I do think my Statistics final needs more attention that it is getting; I really have to pass this class, folks. Anywhooo, posting should be back to normal starting Friday, with the Chapter for DBA heading out this weekend!  In the mean time, here’s a few of my favorite face palm memes to honor my epic should-have-planned-ahead fail!

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The Weaver

Woman on weaving loom

The Weaver

I draw straws from
my memories, fibers
from which to weave
these coarse lines,
forcing tapestries
together, constructing
rough depictions of
my life.

__________________________________________________________

Another little short one today, but this one focuses on where I pull inspiration from. When I sit and think of what I want to write (on the days where something isn’t coming to me and my muse has taken yet another trip to New Zealand without me), I begin to run first back over the day I’ve had. If nothing comes up, I keep going further and further back in my mind to the week, the month, until I finally get to years. Here and there I might pluck a thought and, together, they finally come together to form an idea which eventually turns into the poems you see here.

Death or Taxes

man jumping from cliff

Death or Taxes

Death and taxes,
as sure as Mondays and
madness, the two sunderers
of men and yet a bypass
can be practiced.

I propose death OR taxes
a surly ultimatum,
I suggest playing Russian
roulette with the rules,
digging around in Schrödinger’s
sandbox without medication,
placing hand-grenades in
the place of party pinatas,
and dancing off cliffs
without all the ropes to bother!

So hang all the rules,
and choose the less traveled
of two options, grab
the nearest pair of scissors
and take off through the office!

Jump over  the chairs and take
a sprinting leap for the windows,
common now, who’s with me? We’ll-
what, no takers?

Hmm, well can I say?
Courage like this takes practice,
now back to your screens,
you yellow stiffs,
and finish up those taxes.

_________________________________________

Happy Monday and Tax day….Wow. That’s a bit of overkill, don’t you think? Either way, here is a little post to commemorate the wonderfully annoying parts of today. It’s a bit of a crude rhyme, bit it was too fun to pass up.  Hope you enjoy!

Awesome Picture: Derek J by Phil Watt

Cling

To morals,
meters,
memories,

in stormy seas,
in times of trial,

to rocks,
to faith,
to hopes,
to lies,

in desperation,
to better times.

———————————————————————————————-

Short and sweet today! This is a little one I wrote that is simple, but has a nice impact. When things go wrong, we tend to find something to latch onto. Something to keep us grounded, or to keep us distracted. Sometimes it’s a good thing, however, it can also be damaging. Either way, here’s some food for thought and I hope you enjoy your weekend!

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