Waiting to be quartered

Don’t know what to do with your arrogance
Is there a time and place for truncated feeling
A cloud of disillusionment that even
The best are willing to sacrifice

I am not the analyst
For ins and outs of
Sheltered meaning
Distractions within the boundaries
Of love

Backwater design vomited on makings
Of ticking time bombs

I cannot map the nuances
That flow to strike a depth
Perhaps my own inability to see
Mark the passing bridges of emotion
Too deeply wrapped in the feeling itself

Too close to the eruption of spirit

To say that I have always loved you is trite
To say you can still hurt me
Is futile
To tell you that no matter what you despise

Do

Think or believe

I will remember fondly
That
Yes that! my love

Is where you have me drawn

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Breather


Quiet
It’s two-thirty in the morning
And the rain settles through the leaves

Back against the old pine tree
I inhale on a cigarette
Twisting and turning of a stubborn brain

Then I remind myself
To look at the world
Look at the WORLD

And breathe the rain

if this is disneyland, i’m mary poppins

My husband drove me over the edge into insanity, and I never recovered. Lol….have been talking with this one neighbor, he’s a bit older than me by 10 years, but a retired teacher and works as a stand-up comedian. Pretty interesting guy, actually.

But feel like I’m damaged goods….and worked the fact that I’m nuts into the conversation….why did I do that? I’ll tell you why….subconsciously I hope to scare him off because my A ticket expired for this ride and the only one left is for spinout where you’re lucky you don’t throw up.

Would really love to be watching the electric parade, but got stuck at the gift shop buying a stuffed mickey mouse and one of those huge multi-colored lollipops….

And all those pretty fireworks are starting over the castle, with crowds ooooing and aaahhhing…..meanwhile I’m looking at the lily pads in the moat and wondering how many frogs it takes…..

I would wish on a star….but got stuck in space mountain.

And a spoonful of sugar is supposed to be all you need, but I think I better order a truckload…have it delivered in care of tinkerbell to the peter pan ride.

Because not growing up has always seemed the best option, and wanting what you can’t have is getting a little old.

Worries never suffer

There is nothing more effective than silence

To linger in sweeping shadows

One fence expands the length and breadth

Of where we used to be

Under a blooming apple tree

My love for you

My hatred for me

We leave it all where it whispers a song

From growing quiet

Still

The path of true belonging

 

I may be tired

I may be old

I may be sore

But sure has heck

Life doesn’t intend

To turn perseverance into

Long-winded remorse