Silent Misdeeds

Silent Misdeeds

Silent Misdeeds

Silent MisdeedsSilent MIsdeeds

Which form of abuse is to your liking?

Why?

You say….

The choice never had been yours

to make anyway…

Though it had always been your voice at stake

Just another orgasm faked…

Choices, options, delusions of narcissistic grandeur…

Why not a familiar bent take on beat her down pleasure?

They all say twice more than what they hear

Guardians of hand-me-down fear.

Everyday serving up a family owned tactile recipes

Everyday reminders turned mystery thrillers.

Everyday the salts that eat the pillars.

Shaker Road

shaker road 4

This old house has seen it all before.  The rummaging of angst…The backdoor horrors…

Three crows circling the unkempt gardens, pecking orders for the leftovers.

Descending much like beggars to pennies upon the floor.

This old house…closed for repairs…missing steps in the stairs.

Leaking self depreciating humor…encased in toxic rumor.

This old house…if only you had known sooner.

A foundation built on Christ.

Dining in prayer with the Father and a roll of the dice.

‘Come home.’shaker road 1

I shall tell you now.

I shall tell you now…

what all these years…

you have missed.

“Nail and frail and lying low.  A legacy cast no shadow.  For it must have not just shape and form, but contempt for danger…or, it only lay shallow.”

shaker road 5

“Occasionally, we have to take care of those who once…took care of us.  Often leaving, the participants, stuck between wonder-lust and antiquated mistrust.”

The Past

I have walked the walk
talked the talk
In the unfolding rain…I find solace.
Between yesterday and tomorrow…the gray.
Between dark and light…hope.
….
Searching the sites of loved one’s lost…a time to relish they no longer have to be here.
Scars float above resentments cast.
Oh, how I long to see the past.
Now is no time between ‘did you see that’ and ‘remember when.’
I worry there is no begin, again.
….
Isolation has come to my home.
Love has not gone.
Everyday the best we can do is live within the dome.
Everyday the best I can do?
Relish the old and disregard the new.

the Beatles

#long hauler #Covid survivor

Rhetoric

Crevices surround my veins…there is no glory here

Such as the rust from falling leaves

I would use my words

I recognize my words

My words do not recognize me

This inner rhetoric can be severe hanging like a web in the wind

Now and again, I am but a stranger with spindled oaky hands

remembering what is left of this land

Do I Give In

I am exhausted from exhaustion

My mind is a fishbowl with too many inhabitants

Do I give in and enjoy a lazy lane

Drape my weary and swollen toes in the icy waters of autumn

I have shed so many diseased tears over an empty couch

so many fears over the days I could embrace

The chills that swaddled from summer’s heat

Friends and fiction and my permenent host

I am exhausted from exhaustion

There is hesitation to my mornings

Disdain for golden leaves falling distant dreams

Normal is not quite what it seems

#longhauler