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Time & Experience, Progression & the Mind, rambling and writing |
These are small poems and passages which I am putting together in this, Poetic Tidbits. Why use up all my portfolio space with bits of poetry when I can put a bunch of small ones right in here? So forgive me now for clustering my writing but I have a tendency to write in short bursts. Read what you may and ignore the rest. Sometimes it's just good to get it out there. The first regarding the experience of springtime to the recovering self-injurer. Who knew you could find something more painful than physical pain? Revealing yourself is part of the process of recovery. Writing can be a useful tool in the process. Today I knew pain. Like a raw opened wound only bleeding with shame. Today I let go. And as much as it hurt I still let it show. This is but another stage in the process of healing. The progression of living while slowly revealing. I'm more alive now. Feeling more deeply though I still don't know how. I'm angry and lost. Immersed in the burden of living the cost. I race to recover. Only to find I have much to discover. How long will this take? Well that is a choice I have yet to make. sometimes all we see are the obstacles. and then other times the path seems so clear we're worried this couldnt be the right one. but even chaos seems to be a choice. and the choice is not wether or not to be in chaos. its wether or not you choose to rise above it and be but a spectator or get trapped in it's web and lose yourself. right now i am seeing a path that is mostly clear and it frightens me. not that it isnt full of tests of will, faith and reason. just that it is so obviously right no matter how its progression tests you. you feel it in the back of your mind. its like the foundation of a building. strong and steady, the core of a structure. and the more you endure the stronger the foundation becomes until you start building it upwards, piece by piece. and this is how it feels to rebuild a life you thought worthless. like building a structure in your mind. filling it with new and better ways to realize your goals. realizing that it is a progression and not something to be accomplished overnight. but its all in the process that you discover yourself truly and in the end not only will your structure be strong and ready but your self will be standing within it surrounded by what you have worked so hard to create. a better way. a beautiful existence. a strong and steady mind, unshaken by the chaos that surrounds..... . . . . and this is but a brief thought at sunset. The sun sets like a dying ember in the sky. Awakening the night in a melancholy eye. Have you ever noticed that when your heart is burdened even the shining of the sun can't keep your soul from hurting? Life is so moment to moment. You laugh and then cry and don't hesitate to question inbetween. You're alive and then broken and though you're awake you could swear you're stuck in a dream. program Experiences hang like shining stars. Like a picture in my mind unaware of what they are. They lack meaning. They swing gently in the winds of change programming how im dealing. "If this, Then this." Like a machine. I'm a living coded dream. "If this, Then this." I'm a process that succombs but always questions what it means. I try to tell myself that its just another day. Those stupid One Day at a Time lines. The unfortunate part is its true. You can only do things one day at a time. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come and im here right now so what am i going to do? Thats the part i get hung up on. Do what ive always done my mind says . . . do what you know how to do. But when that becomes not enough is it possible to shift the program in your mind that sets the pace? To alter the perception and find a better place? Why must my mind be always turning, thoughts spin fast but am i learning? What have i absorbed today and what of this will carve the way....... Too much information. Not enough time. I feel like im wasting every effort of my mind . . . . Prelude: Picture your life and the passing days like this . . . . . . You're soul is the Sun. It is always shining above the clouds that pass. The storm rages below but the light is not harmed. Maybe hidden but always there. You're mind is lingering in the sky. Sometimes it gets caught up in the storm. Sometimes it rises above it and gains perspective. Sometimes it sits beneath it and wallows in the rain. You're body is the earth. The storm forms above it blocking the light. But it knows it needs the rain to come and feed its soil. In the midst of your storm you can grow and blossom like the flowers and trees who know the rain must come so they may grow. Learn from the pain you endure and grow like the flowers. It can stengthen you. . . . Or you can let it overtake you and break you apart. The storm cleanses and renews. And when it passes the Sun is still there right where it never left. It is the constant. Always waiting for you to know it is still there. Still wholly the Sun and all its light. Unmoved by disaster. A Poem: The sun isn't judging the body I wear. It won't think to reject me or hide out of fear. And neither will I. I can shine like the sun in a crystal blue sky. I can laugh and love but it's okay to cry. I would feel so alive. As the Sun lives, so too shall i strive. drown A day without reason in a mind that i fear. Where choices swing begging a little more near. And really whats the best way to describe coming down? Its a little like dying as you slowly drown. Pain in every nerve but most of all inside your head. Alone in sinking darkness, you're just laying in your bed. And though you rest your tired body and shut your heavy eyes, you still think that you cant sleep until you visit with your knives. Lifes still here right where you left it just a little more delayed. Filling ever fast with consequence from every choice i've made. a garden out of season Twist of time where one small flower grows a promise. And in my mind I tend the tender earth she rose through. As I watch I see each lovely petals progress. And the act of this one patience shows me what I need to do. You can't rush a flower growing or hide it from the light. You can't see the path before you running blindly through the night. And like a garden in the winter waiting patiently for spring I feel the cold begin to splinter in the earths awakening. And this is as my mind. But a garden out of season still alive beneath these vines. And suddenly I see. I'm the gardener who is tending to the dream she wants to be. I'm the persevering princess who says this just isn't me. And I'll grow a whole new world, I'll build it ever patiently. You can't rush a mind from transforming, like a flower it turns to the light. You can't keep on running from truth for so long that you don't even know what is right. But patience and perseverance can build on the strength of the mind and the light you thought gone. It's only been waiting for you to remember and find your way back to the place you belong. simple or so it would seem. When mind is clear and eyes are opened and focus seems the simplest task. When strengths a river in your belly how could you even need to ask. When fear seems some forgotten notion from someone elses tainted dream. When peace and love turn your devotion and all you seek is what it means. When time splits wide and stars explode, to open and see down the road. Oh here it is again you say, that little hook that dug inside. You pull it out to mend your soul and offer no more space to hide. You are the rock that none can move when strength has built and pain removed. how is it sometimes so clear. a mind focused and without fear. and how is it sometimes absurdly chaotic. with screaming inside and a taunting hypnotic. panic gains speed as its craving a need and i run from the truth hardly able to breathe. how do i sway in such a way that i cant seem to do much more than leave. a different point . . . A different point of view in a place i used to know, where the wind consumes the world and the angels often go. Solace in the city on the steps of earthly peace, where the orange sky is blazing and the wind begins to speak. And when i close my eyes i hear it in my mind. It's not outside of me in these illusions inked in time. Its not an echo that ripples through the air. It's not outside and it's alive and it's aware. a moment awake . . . I was standing at a crossroads pleading silently for peace. I had ventured far in darkness finding little to release. And as my gaze was lifting skyward in a moment of despair I caught a vision to remind me, like an answer to my prayer. It never was outside of me so where have i been going? Searching everywhere it wouldnt be pretending I'm not knowing. For how often has your peace been found in others dark illusions or hiding courting madness in confinement and seclusion? And though I know the answer I've been teetering on reason, cause i wish sometimes the truth was something I didn't believe in. But I've never known this peace like a River I am riding, Save for when I release my mind and keep my truth from hiding. where, we're, and unaware another hour, another passing dream. i am floating disconnected in a space just inbetween. so much happened but i dont think that i was there. just a body forming actions with a mind not quite aware. another day, another moment lost. i am paused in hesitation with my sanity the cost. so much chance but i don't think i can escape. for i can't give to impulse actions when im not even awake. am i breathing? am i here or always leaving? do i know or have no reason? i'm a shadow by my side. am i spinning? which girls winning? do i see what is begining? i'm just sleeping here to hide. what's the question...... i forgot to ask the dark. i wait quietly for answers on a bench down at the park. flashing light, snapping back into my head. and i find i wasn't dreaming but i've forgotten what i said. Samantha Grey |