Upside Down

I’m upside down
My feet in the air,
Head on the ground.
Wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Didn’t realize I was that attached.
Didn’t see she was my center.

Now I’m detached,
Free falling with no clue
What to do, to chase or wait?
But to give utterance is villainy
For I am the villain, I am a destroyer
And I am destroyed.

You were my glue. You kept me together. Then you dissolved, and you dissolved me with you, because I made you my world.

And it doesn’t make sense.
I screwed myself again.
And it’s empty.
Upside down.


Hard to miss you

Last week Grandpa passed. I wrote this poem for him while flying out to Utah. I would have posted earlier, but it’s just been crazy about week.


It’s hard to miss you when you’re still here

In the jovial nature of loved ones

In humor found at inappropriate times

In the mechanical curiosity and capabilities of his daughters

In the unshakable faith in Christ traversing three generations,

Shown clearly through love towards others

Yet it’s unable to replace your

Eternal home improvement projects

Immensely impassioned and polticaly incorrect tirades

Contagious laught and smile infecting everyone present

Hard-earned wisdom with which to guide us

Thank you for the virtues you taght us

We miss you.

Writing Progress – None

I was supposed to write tonight. I wasted the evening. We got to Oryx, though, so I’m happy for that. The publisher has let me know they received everything, but no idea the current time table. I feel thin. It’s like walking through smoke, and knowing there’s a cliff out there, but there’s also something good. But I have no idea what the good thing is.

Alright, I’m feeling it. In honor of Christine getting her new books out in a physical format (her series of fairy tale remakes), I’m doing poetry poker, which she created for her English class.

Deck is shuffled. I do like adding an extra layer of difficulty. I have to use the cards in the order they are drawn. So here we go.

wpid-wp-1443070292554.jpgThere is a possibility I will find a use for these words. Strained especially will have a place in the center ring. Did I mention the deck is The Carnival at Omega Five? While I’m not entirely sure on the omega five (I believe a sci fi reference), a carnival I can most certainly do. Especially after reading Gaslight Carnival. I most certainly suggest you purchase your own copy to add to your purview.

Anyway, my words! Drum roll, please, for I’m sure you cannot read them in the photo to the left. The difficulty to discern is due to my faulty camera. I kid.

Strain, almost, lights, tune, and glitter. I shall put them in bold so you may call me out, and they must be in the order which I have just stated.

Without further ado….


Poker Poetry 9/24/2015

Strain upon the ropes as they unravel
With daring acrobats almost falling to doom
But talented gymnasts reach across chasms,
Pooling up coworkers from certain doom.

The lights are bright on the stages, so much
Going on all at once. With elephants and tigers,
With clowns and flame breathers, there is always
Such a view. It is the carnival, after all.

A man in the corner rotates a roller which plucks
Out an automated tune. Just as his musical talent,
The rest of the show is an illusion. To thrill, to scare,
To make unprepared, glitter used to obscure the truth.

Meh. Not my finest work. I’m exhausted. I felt massively loquacious. I wish I was more alert and could write. I would make a mean Lovecraft story at this hour and in this state, with goblins and ghosts and Cthulhu. But I am tired. I am tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. Oddly spiritually is in a pretty good place. Plenty of affirming actions where that’s concerned.

Where in darkness do we tread when we reach for the unknown? We put a blindfold on so we can’t see the lamp that would tell us what it holds. We keep the eyes covered so good or bad we cannot discover, for we yearn for the good, yet we fear for the bad, and we would rather have gleeful phantoms than gloom.

(See, there we go. That was much better.)



Unexpected Sun

I forgot what the sun was like until the dark clouds parted.
They made way and the warmth of day shined upon my face.
It was hot, it was blinding, it forced me to my knees.
I wanted to run and hide, I wanted to go to the dark corners of my house.
Yet I forgot what the sun was like.
I forgot the way it warmed me, the way I felt alive.
I forgot how it lit up the world, so I could see all it’s glory.
I forgot what it was to smile for more than a quick quip.
Yet I remember how it burns, and I enjoy it until the clouds come in again.

There was a light upon a hill I could have chosen to ascend

There was a light upon a hill I could have chosen to ascend.
But I said no, and saw the cave, and down into darkness I went to blend.
Nothing good was in that cave, or so I have surmised,
For it was slimy and slippery, it hissed and it howled, and there was no sunrise.

Into darkness I plunged myself, hiding all my fears,
When people from the hill reached out and said, “Come play and have your fill.”
I told them to go fuck themselves, but not in so many words,
With the shrug of my shoulders, an indifferent grunt, they got the hint and were gone.

They visited time to time, and though I thought I would be fine, I’m lonely here, on my own,
In the darkness, which I patrol. I thought I wanted them, I need them so bad,
But in this cave I dwell, I remain, I sit, something pathetic, something so sad.

How am I

How am I?

I am pained
Every day when you’re not here
Every week when I wake up to an empty pillow
Every month when I’m reminded I’m alone by other couples
Every year when I can’t find someone better

I am determined
Every day I climb a mountain
Covered in my blood spilled from a thousand wounds
With only God at the top waiting to take my hand
Every joy, every handhold, I forge by my own hands and tools
But I will reach the top

I am dreaming
Every time I sit down to edit, bleeding colored ink onto my soul
Every time I punch out a short story to be devoured in bite sizes
Every time I sit down to create a game and convince others to join me on the ride

I am devout
Through leading mission teams
Through random acts of kindness
Through Bible study twice a week at 6:30 am
Through leading  Bible study Saturday morning
Through lifting up praise in choir Sunday morning

I am not doing well. I am doing good.
I have not found happiness. I have found conviction and faith.
I do not know Eros. I do know myself.
I do not know the touch of one. I know how to reach out and touch many.

I might miss you every day of my life
But every day I do my best to thank you for kicking my ass out the door, and shredding everything I was. Twice.

That is how I am doing