Through times of unbalance
We stand on weighty scales
Pondering each side
Which wins, which fails
The sun goes down each day
Like an anchor in the sea’s floor
We graciously abide with less, while needing more
Smiles of momentary bliss flow
Though not many deeply know
One reality from another
In the life of a strange mother
Trek through a Thought
28 May 2016 5 Comments
Trothless
03 Oct 2015 1 Comment
Beauty engulfs the darkness
Moonlight from the sun shines at midnight
Death begets life through your words…Keep writing, Sean.
A profound piece from Mad Poet Enchained…
Sean Michael, July 2015
The attrition is steady,
like water running over rocks,
the ebb and flow of a bloody sea,
as I contemplate suicide.
For what good is it:
Inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide,
breathing my failures.
This place has rotted my core;
there’s not an ounce of good left in me,
not a drop.
For each day I learn to despise myself over again,
as the darkness plays tricks on my eyes,
and the truth nascents lies.
How could this be?
Once so innocent now ragged and torn,
I’m in tatters.
But there will be no mending I’m afraid,
for many a stitch in this endeavor’s been laid,
the filaments now frayed.
No silver lining in this stained cloth,
Just a soul naked without troth.
Posted for dVerse Poets, Open Link Night #157, October 2, 2015
Change of the Abyss
13 Jul 2014 3 Comments
in Home, Inspiration, Make Your Life Work, Poetry - Healing Words
Long time no read, but hi!!
I am glad to say that I have enjoyed an actual vacation with my family this summer with a trip to a family reunion in St. Louis, MO and yes – we had an unmitigated ball! Although the trip entailed a lot of planning and work throughout, I have thoroughly enjoyed myself and am back to the drawing board, and back to workin’ it!
It is now Saturday afternoon on July 12, 2014, and I have some words to share today, Yay! I associate this poem with how my writing consistency (sometimes lack thereof) plays out on a regular basis – emphasizing on some time before and immediately after the vacation trip. However, this piece can represent any walk of life for anyone.
I hope you all enjoy!
“Change of the Abyss”
Smile, and the world smiles with you – that’s what they say;
But what about when nothing goes as planned – what about that day?
When apprehension shows up in every place where courage should reside;
What direction leads to home? At what residence is pride?
When at sea, a simple smile is not quite enough – or so it looks;
Breaking chains, leaping bounds, and evading pirating crooks;
This journey can sometimes prove to be an abyss of sheer overwhelm;
While still in search of contentment – my main goal is location of the helm.
Each sailed mile of my life lacks reception of understanding – being clear;
Much like a deep sea urchin, there is no there – nor here,
Very small, long, patient, yet hurried moves towards the initial goal;
When suddenly, my ship sinks into an unending eddy of unfold.
Which way is the way back to the top – afloat?
In which direction should the helm turn to avoid the urchin’s sand-bottomed gloat?
He is so slow, so simple, so content;
He moves – he moves not – he patiently waits – for what is meant.
Until, at last – the time comes to devour;
All in his path – until nothing is left to scour;
Now satiated, and on his way back to the cubbyhole;
Where silent, satisfied stories of fulfillment are proudly told.
Does the urchin smile, or does he breathe a sigh of relief;
From not being caught in the net of regret…grief?
Like a miracle, that once hard to control helm, shall I surely steer;
To and fro from there, ’til at long last – here.
Now, at land ho, I can clearly see;
How a simple smile can make the world smile with me.
For, in spite of apprehension, fear, and confusion – peace unfolds;
Into the urchin’s revealed story of silent victory, which by mankind – is forever told.
Menstruated Relevance
18 May 2014 4 Comments
It’s birth was a self-proclaimed excitement of newness from the very start
But what ejects from the mouth surely comes from the heart
I don’t know if you know that I happen to know
That seeds planted in the moment will flourish and eventually grow
Into a thing expected, but certainly not hoped for
Sometimes, we pray for a disengaged cap-off
Or a magical hinge which closes the door
On negativity, complaints, and unrealistic hopes for
Ungracious favor – amenities; those things realistically not in store
For you? Me? No!
When unable to take the heat, one must pack up and go
Inside of self to find and oust the true yet vicious culprit
The answer won’t be found inside a gurus spirit, nor a sanctimonious pulpit
The guru needs to breathe and the preacher has his own life
Which is also filled with possessiveness, the God complex, and strife
But as long as I know that I know what I do know
You too can learn this way to evade being tossed to and fro
Through the thick and profuse forest for that very tree
Which stands in your way, though you refuse to humbly look and see
Me
The one and only one who truly understands
The plight of a queen, the fight of a man
Through the blackness of our blood, sweat, and unceasing tears
Though none go with, we remain adhering for years
Coming out and going into the sweltering furnace of death’s hell fire
Toiling, blistering, and carrying the dead weight of an anvil’s desire
There is always an insidious calm before the impending storm
When she is weary, debased, and facing a hope forlorn
It is by pure faith that dreamed hopes will one day be one
Until then, this pillared woman’s work is now done
She patiently waits for that grand day of relief to finally arrive
When menstruated relevance cedes, lays down, and
For the time being
Dies
Consummated Arrogance
14 Apr 2014 9 Comments
The anguish of pride is a virginal bride
Willingly walking over the threshold
Of disaster…
Refusing to be carried through to modesty
For she will have no master
She deserts the purity of humility
Leaving it slain as a permanent stain
Wrapped in defiled marriage bed sheets of deceit
Though the proof is now there
The anguish of pride keeps her blind… unaware
Will she ever learn that her mate will forever yearn
For the pleasure of a true coexistence – with much persistence
Daily longing to kiss her lips and fingertips
While in a strong embrace
Graciously savoring her would be sweet and humble taste
If only she knew that as the morning dew
Falls and eventually evaporates
So would the anguish of pride
Gently drop…then gradually
Dissipate
The Tempest
11 Apr 2014 8 Comments
The mind knoweth not
Where the heart doth go
As a lovesick breeze of eagerness
Carries it to and fro
Having no knowledge of where or why
That former blissful wind came
The mind is not at fault
Only life is to blame
For this tumultuous storm rising
Leaving sheer destruction in its path
And a desperate longing for peace
To replace that which razed from wrath
Whilst shards of glass crumble
Under thy very feet
Thou too dost tread
Upon reconstructable debris
Forgiveness is an everlasting mortar
Well mending fragments of a broken heart
The mind now knoweth whence it came
And surely now, where to start
In the Heart of…
10 Apr 2014 11 Comments
Truth,
It resides in meaningful places, but
Empty facades of what could have been –
Yet cannot be are strained from
The solidity of
Solitude…
Preferring the brilliant glow of
Honesty, but facing
Rejection
From the other side of the
Facts of
Life…
Wandering aimlessly…searching for
Depth
In one’s own
Reality – suddenly
A loud shout from the
Heart
Brings fruition
Life Goes Lyrical|Urban Dialect
06 Apr 2014 8 Comments
I had a lot of fun with this piece…(silent mental beats playing in my head – again, I feel alive in the midst of severe brain fog/stress/life happening). My intent is for the brutally honest Southern hood dialect orientation to epitomize the concept of a life from any walk (and the stuff that comes with it) to be ‘felt’.
I hope you guys enjoy!
Life Goes Lyrical
Tired – try’in to steal a nap like a thief in a robbery
Sick – cause the weather bipolar like a fake real housewife on TV
Broke as the Ten Commandments when Moses stepped down from the MT – couldn’t believe what his eyes did see
Tripp’in – like a stumbling block in my way cause b****es be hatin on me
But still good, cause I ain’t a slave to the world sayin, “F*** it!” like ‘2Pac’, set me free
Still be up – when my life be ’bout to crumble and fall
Come out fight’in – when my back is pushed against tha wall
Shawt – like a munchkin, but mentally standing tall
Throw at me what you will – whistle blown, flag thrown, my court – my ball!
Darkness invades – as if my midnight is on tha loose
Tie a big knot, rope it up, kick my chair, – look up at tha noose
But it ain’t for my neck, you damned silly goose
Just hang’in up all my hang-ups – time to let it all loose
Times got to get betta – that’s all I’m say’in
Don’t get pissed off at me cause U evol’vin and I’m still pray’in
No time for tha BS – put a cap on tha monkey-ass play’in
My miss’in link ain’t no invisible ape –
Just a nomadic biped – survive’in… gray’in
Homograph Haiku
01 Apr 2014 2 Comments
Strings attached ensnare
The ties that bind are riddled with knots
Make bows and take bows
The Collector
23 Feb 2014 5 Comments
Image courtesy of sritangphoto / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
I must admit that this poem was literally pulled out of me by an old yet new friend from my past (school) who has managed to reconnect with me in a big way, so thank you much MS COOPER!!! I also feel the need to attribute these words to another friend – YES, YOU CHRISTYB! It is these two ladies that I in this case consider – (((drumroll)) – FRIENDS. You have both supported me from day #1, and both of you still make yourselves a very present asset in helping me to clear my overly filled (with whatever at the time) brain – via encouragement, genuine friendliness, and authentic support.
I can only hope that these two gems receive some warm light in return for what that they continuously give out. 🙂
The Collector
Her special box is hidden in her heart,
Filled with many colors,
Shapes, forms;
Collecting often, but –
Sometimes – not always the norm.
Before, they lay dormant…
Until the day came,
To awaken –
Those forsaken –
And forlorn…
With the sweet scent of friendliness,
And compassion true;
She acknowledges all forms,
Be it red, brown, or other hue.
The shapes never matter,
Because her love never ceases to refrain;
From spreading a scattered distribution
Of camaraderie over the lawn of any species,
Holding the existence of pertinence –
To bliss and pain.
Keeping the old and bringing in
Those irregular – even blue,
The bright colors uplift,
While dark rich hues renew.
She sets newness neatly,
Lovingly,
In its designated spot;
Publicly, with all the others, discreetly.
She will savor joy,
Togetherness,
For a time, many pleasantries ;
Until back to that special hidden place,
Goes the collector’s paper leaves.
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