Trek through a Thought

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

Aside

Trothless

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…

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

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Aside

Change of the Abyss

 

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

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

 

Aside

Consummated Arrogance

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

 

 

Aside

The Tempest

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

 

Aside

In the Heart of…

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

 

Aside

Life Goes Lyrical|Urban Dialect

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

dscf009314.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

Aside

Homograph Haiku

Strings attached ensnare
The ties that bind are riddled with knots
Make bows and take bows

Aside

The Collector

Small Gift Box on Pine

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.

 

 

Aside

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