Loss of Time

Proving A Point

Years are sneaky

they slip on by

in the crisis of life

in the wink of an eye

within all the strife

there goes your last sigh


Long time no write… I’m working six days a week and any spare time I do get my brain is that of a zombie! I hope you enjoyed this…

Advertisements

The Petals of Life

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

Red In Common

The Photo is from Tumblr

A petal falls, from the tuxedo pocket of a high school boy

A petal falls, from the wrist of a high school girl

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet of a late fiancé

a petal falls, from the bouquet of a smiling bride

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Twenty-two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the plant in the waiting room

a petal falls, from the plant in the cancer specialist’s office

Petals have fallen and petals still fall

Two months of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet on a hospital bedside tray

A petal falls, from a gripped fist onto the waiting dirt

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Tomorrow they will fall again

 

Haiku PLUS story about the Ocean, man-made structures, & S’mores

AnthropogenicA city awaits

the force of a rising tide.  

Our design won’t last.

I took this picture while visiting my mom on the Oregon Coast. My younger brother and I had walked away from the fire to find roasting sticks for s’mores when he shoved me and took off running. I was laughing and chasing him down when all of a sudden he jerked to a  stop and said, Look at this!” It was dark, but the light from the moon showed the outline of a massive city made out of stones. It was amazing! There was a wall between the taller stacked buildings and the shabbier ones located on the outskirts. My Photo doesn’t do the city justice, but you can get the idea. It took me four hours to build seven rock towers and maybe that’s because I was matching colors, but I know this took a lot of time and effort. My second thought was this is going to be gone when the tide comes in.

The Haiku is based around the idea of oceans rising and consuming land, therefor also wiping out man-made structures. The bigger idea is based on our design not lasting. Why would you spend so much time working on something that isn’t going to last even till tomorrow? The person who spent the time to build this could have been doing it for many reasons, boredom, stress relief, or to bring joy and excitement to others. Which spurs the idea of selflessness. So many thoughts because of someone’s simple act is a great thing.

Do you have anything to add or share? Feel free to do so in the comment area 🙂

Dealing With Loss….

Mother's poemMy mother’s warm house is now empty.

Her laugh, her laugh no longer rings throughout

my life, but I take comfort in the stars

A blanket of stars never meant so much,

but now they stand for all the times

giggles bounced off my bedroom walls, as

my squirming body was tucked in by 

by warn tired hands; my mother’s hands

Billions, no trillions of stars to

guide me, to show me the way

in dark uncertain times just as

my mother’s words have guided

me countless times before

Lastly, she had a smile that

brightened my life and I find

this too in the stars.

I look to the know blurry galaxy

and whisper, “Goodnight,

I love you mom.”

My co-worker lost her mother and “I’m sorry for your loss” didn’t seem like enough. Mother’s are so special and I can’t even imagine losing mine, so I made a poem for her. The poem is about finding comfort in the stars because they bring familiarity and remembrance of a mothers irreplaceable wonderful qualities. If you’ve lost your mother I hope you can also find her in some way.

Posted up in the emergency room

After the emergency room they move you upstairs
once they know you won’t die right away,
it’s always just better that way,

It’s 3am and the ambulance is still bringing guests in
well, tonight the place is booked like a five star hotel
I wish for once it was like a shanty run down motel.

The nurse just came in and informed us
we will be stuck with a curtain as a door
And old blood stains upon the floor

His Gurney was wet,
he was uncomfortable,
but the least of his worries was this small detail.

Dirt and blood stained the pristine white sheets
but soon to be gone
when the new bed could be retrieved.

Even the bed was one of their last.
Where is our ticket home you might ask?
Well, it comes with an x-ray at nine am.

Nine am is when we shall see
exactly how terrible the two holes in his lungs actually might be.
Nine am is when we shall see
exactly if he might need surgery on his wrecked right knee.

the nurse asks on a scale of one to ten,
but I believe the sale is unfitting
by my calculations, where I’m sitting-

11 for the broken leg,
5 at least for the broken rib
3 apiece for the two holes in the lungs

my addition is sound,
and to me,
22 it looks to be around.

This is a poem I’ve been working on for some time about my brother’s stay in the emergency room early this august. I sat by his side through the night in fear about his situation which magnified my frustration at the circumstances.

P.T.S.D and 1% Milk

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She looks at me and waits

If I leave will I find you again?

I know it’s just to the back of the store

What if I can’t find you?

I can’t do today

So many people, so many strangers

“Go get the milk” she said

God, I’m 21 and I’m broken

What is wrong with me?

Why does my brain have to be broken today?

Yesterday I shopped just fine by myself!

One step, two steps, three seconds of holding

My breath…

Time is slowing and speeding up

People are blurring. Am I drunk?

Why can’t I breathe? It’s just 1% milk…

I found some old notes from a year ago and decided to write this. You can’t choose when or where you might have a melt down when you have P.T.S.D and I feel like this is a good example for people who want to understand what could happen to someone who looks completely fine and healthy on the outside, but waging a war on the inside.

Nobody knew I had a problem except my family. Sometimes it’s hard having a fear inside you that only shows up sometimes. It’s like if you didn’t have a fear of spiders for most of the year, but during the year of September you had nightmares about them and every time you saw one it made you shiver and want to run.

My soul; a small piece of Coal

I am no more just a Dusty blackened coal
The flakes of my past lift, breaking off
To drift with the wind
.
I don’t know what was there before, But
your impulsive kiss was a spark
that Grew into a waving flame.
It was the hushed whisper Of shared feelings, like kindling
who built a fire, licking my soul, warm at first
then the confusion set In.
.
Your indecisive actions…one minute wanting
The next minute leaving. The fire kept building
Consuming, with nowhere to go, only left to combust
It had to stop! It had to stop?
.
a bucket of sorrow, letting go,
then a plume of smoke rises in the air and when it clears
I am no more, Just a dusty blackened coal.
.
-Katie