For Mayor, for payment, For wages, forced labour, For most run four bases, For patience, no basis. Road changes like young brains, Record-breakers, the role favours; Horses race toward old age, and the coast as it fades; Full weight behind the sail, Like regulation of the state, Your neighbour, Your patron, Afford bravery for faith, While some live, agate, Judge races from inside of a cage.
Babies and family and warm woolen mittens these are the things in which we are smitten. Sunlight and rain on my face all insane one patters one warms yet both matter the same. Porpoise and dolphin like gorilla and chimp similarities to cuddle yet don’t make good sense. Oh why are these thoughts so loud in my head of things that concern me and things that are said. Is my heart crying out and my logic repressing or is common sense keeping myself from undressing. Baring soul inner thought is scary at best when guessing who’s trustworthy or in whom to invest. Light of day brings rising clarity for each intense charity of ones mortal soul and the damning sobriety. So tortured inspired and desired the same within friendship and love and all things a flame. Now dry from the patter and warm by the fire to cuddle desire and wash off the mire for all the heart wants is all it requires and that my dear friend is all that must matter.
They met like the first time rainbow met sun shower, wave met sandy seashore, and heart met Cupid’s arrow. They laughed like the first time green eyes gazed brown, sunup chased sundown, and chuckles met deep frown. They learned about foreign subjects on local soil, shared time in familiar toil, and explored how their lives could coil. They wondered how we two could meet and find their feet and live to eat and rinse repeat and begin again and keep the peace for family sake. She touched my heart with smile on face depositing hope of our loves deep embrace. Unlocking a gate of emotions oppressed from that bygone time cloaked in cynicism and hate. She used her power applied her grace revealing a world where nothing waits and the weak grow strong those loved and displaced. Then together we pledged to always be true to all that matters to me and to you and to guard this ethereal space.
Obsessions What power you hold over me... Every action, every thought Is just a push in your direction Feeding into the obsessions, Lost connections, misdirections, Absolutely positively coerced into these affections By a brain constantly seeking tiny moments of perfection. Though you kind of must admire this curation of adoration, All the mental efforts required to keep up the constant cultivation Of this undisturbed fixation, The impropriety and distraction of a single-minded meditation, All these mind-numbing, pacing, clock-like rotations Theoretically leading this obsessive mind to pure elation, The uninhibited fruits of this persistent dedication. Happy sighs and exhalations... But then... The sobering realization That somehow life existed before this shrine’s erection And perhaps the cracks start to show, Unexpected but apparent imperfections, Initially denied and resolutely rejected, The shattered shards of a crystal ball that disagrees with my projections, The deflation, depletion, extortion Of my vexation, Maybe leading to complete and utter exoneration... The disintegration of my fascination. Maybe someday... But for now I prefer to float in my comforting contemplations, Giving in to the infatuation, These happy delusions of my mind’s incarceration. And if the worst this should cause is These false exhilarations, Then I shall stay here for a while And enjoy the scintillating sensations Of my obsessive ruminations. A Temporary Salvation.
To scratch to paper to feel, A rat pampered can keel, Catch as cant, caped and kneels. To manage a brokerage well, Manger broken, belly swells, Change hopeful, soon quelled. The train is gold but gone, Pain is old game to fawns, Again retold, they carry on.
“Writers ———————- Have gentle souls Have a heart of a sunshine The one written word they paint From their lives with each brush in their hands The good times The bad times The treasured of times Their words are best told From its beginning to no ending They paint each season They create each reason They form each line As they stand even at the bus line As they wait for their train to arrive As they drive their car they must stop At the parking stop and quickly write Otherwise they will lose their track of Song they want to sing” (c)10/31/2020 by Petar Kostadinov
Warning: this is looooooong and if you’re a sensitive individual the first parts may bother you. But hopefully the last part will inspire you. Speak your truths friends. The ones who matter will love you all the harder. #worldmentalhealthday Hidden Stories They smiled, jokingly told her she looked tired, “Must’ve partied hard last night.” Smile quietly returned, “just didn’t sleep too well I guess.” She didn’t tell them how hard it was to get out of bed this morning, How sleep never came last night, How it felt like the darkness would just swallow her whole, How she felt hollow and empty and there weren’t any tears left, just an ache deep within that wouldn’t subside. And maybe if she just squeezed her eyes shut and stayed in that bed in the blacked out void, She wouldn’t have to face another day of faked smiles and “I’m ok” lies. “Just tired today I guess.” “It’s warm today man!” “What’s with the long sleeves all the time?” “Got some crazy tattoos under there?” He smiled, laughed along with them, Self-consciously ran his hands over his wrists. Over the bandages binding his secrets. They didn’t know how close he got last night, how he almost let go, How so much blood, HIS blood swirled down the drain, mixing with his tears. He was sure no one would miss him, but he wondered if he would miss this world, And the good days out in the sun, Few and far between as they were. What would they say if he were gone tomorrow? “You should’ve come out with us last night. You would’ve had so much fun...” She nodded and made those “next time” promises, though she knew they were lies. She’d stay home again, Wrapped in the icy grips of loneliness, Which felt somehow better than her burning cheeks when the right words just wouldn’t come, or the wrong ones spilled out, and she felt their eyes on her, Panic rising, thoughts frozen Wishing she’d just stayed home, Away from the judgement, And all the wrong moves she always made “Haven’t seen you around in a while! Doing ok?” His mouth smiled, head nodded, lips formed words he’d said so often, automatic. Because, really, he thought, How could I describe that moment last night, body curled up with forehead cold against the kitchen floor, Ears covered to block out the voices, Silent screams wracking his body as the panic overwhelmed him, No breath to speak, And who could he call anyway, How would he explain these moments of pure fear that slipped in unnoticed and become everything, took everything, until he was a shivering shell of himself. Sometimes he wondered, if they could see through him, would they think him weak? Would they walk away...? These people are all make-believe, but the experiences are not, taken from articles and discussions and sometimes even revelations from real-life friends. These are not my stories, but they are someone’s truths, Not their weakness, Not their short-lived sadness that they can just “get over” if you try hard enough to make them happy. (My gosh do I need to remind myself of that part sometimes...) But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. Love them y’all. Love them so damn much that you’ll sometimes break through the cracks in their self-inflicted armor. Listen to them, Give them the chance to be open and honest, And if what they say makes you flinch, imagine what it must feel like for them. Do something kind that makes them smile and get ready to do it again tomorrow. Smile and laugh with them. Cry with them. Be genuine with your thoughts and feelings. Give them space, but check on them. Pull them out of the dark for just a moment, say, “I’m here for you when you need me. And I always will be.” Mental health issues are often invisible, but still feel debilitating to the one inside that head. Stay educated. Be understanding. Love the hell out of each other. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎💗
Make a face, disappointed, Hopefully it stays that way, One appreciates a boys wit. What is pain but pain, To call a spade a spade, Our nature trail is grey. They say save whales, Scream of the rape of males, even in the face of change. Change my name, Change my state, Changing shapes on the screen again.
I miss that girl who wore the moon on a chain, The one who found happiness in solitude and rain, Who wasn’t smothered by the endless need-to-dos, But instead made simple moments her muse. I miss the girl with the honest, unforced smile, The one who could always stay for awhile, Who took endless photos of sunsets and trees, And spent time, just being, under canopies of leaves. I miss the girl always seeking out the new, The one whose blue days were ephemeral and few, Who spent her Sundays, childlike, taking trips to playgrounds, Instead of as an adult, pushing expensive mops around. I miss the girl who wore pink bandanas and braids, Whose undercurrent in life wasn’t always “afraid”, Who wasted away hours in make-believe lands, And felt no guilt with book or controller in hand. And I miss car rides with no destination, Enjoying the lilting song of a clock for pure relaxation, Not feeling enslaved by my own procrastinations, Making last minute plans, happy deviations, I miss yesterdays that happened years ago And I miss the me that I used to know
”The End” The night is young, Barely swollen with stars When the illusion shatters As though everyone I had ever known was gone The world as I had come to know it, Ended. Apocalyptic, And without near enough warning. Those paper souls lost, Their memories fast fading, The stories they told, Words lost in the wind Some names forgotten, Others stamped permanently onto my brain, autographs on my heart. I reminisced for a moment On the places we’d been, Conversations had, Friendships shared, Hardships weathered. Bright sunny days spent outside Or solitary nights spent avoiding sleep, Blanketed by the silent words between us, Alone but for each other’s company. Now I just feel alone, utterly, This finality staring me in the face Nothing left to do but face this music Slipping away at too rapid a pace These final notes, One last embrace. I tell myself I must accept this end, But allow myself one backward look Steel my heart, Heave a sigh, And with great trepidation... close this book. ❤️📚💔
Global player who creates the local cable, Writing nomenclatures with known names, Hoping workstations become playstations, Whose drone planes zip along to no shame; Teaching to make rain and thunder, How your shame is the pain of others, Whose praise and worship is nonsense. Space traveler, declares his slave radical: "No place for a sail with no waves, No stone age for a failing sage, Place the stones on his grave, Then walk away." Teaching to take pain asunder, How should I, seek, become a hermit, With my star-ship lacking an AC?
OCDemons An O for the things that I just can’t let go And maybe it’s not even the same things as last week, But there all the same, Ground into my head As though they were the only thoughts that ever mattered Sacred and necessary Though likely invisible or nonexistent just a few days ago And maybe tucked back into the void In just a few more But I suppose it’s better than time spent Wondering What a head-on collision would be like Or how it might feel To put knife through bone It’s dangerous Inside my head sometimes C for the things that I just can’t not do Always look right when crossing a bridge Wear just enough purple Get the numbers right Watch the color patterns Check and check and check again I tell myself I do these things To clear a clouded head Unfortunately Seems to do The opposite instead D for the disorder in my head Brought on by A record on repeat all day, A ridiculous collection of unbreakable rules And the “honestly, what would REALLY happen?” Thoughts that make me feel insane The static buzz inside my brain So I Read it away. Write it away. Breathe it away. (Over)Think. It. Away. To Hell with you demons. Go plague someone else today. Oh...and see you in a little bit. 😉😑
Static Filled up with all that I can’t seem to say Brain buzzing ...Static... Like the constant angry drone of so many bees Short-circuiting and electrified Monological trappings trapped inside An open book With nothing to hide But still the words won’t come alive ...All I hear is static... Chest compressed and short of breath static, Static, STATIC Word obsessed, Linguistically repressed, Time-limited and hard-pressed Leaving me languid and distressed ...Static... Thoughts hellbent on sweet release Chasing words and losing sleep Those just-right lyrics are buried deep Underneath the static Ripping at my throat Itching in my fingers Insides aching Quivering, quaking All this FUCKING static .................................................... .......................... .......................... Frenzy fading Thoughts relocating Words spilled out Conscious creating A state of nirvana elevating And all I feel is Silence
Rejoice O' Dear Pilgrim's Steven Delvin Mututo Muturi Rejoice! Rejoice! My heart sings. It's proud,quite a revolt, Overwhelmed by high spirits. Best better made choice's_ So proud of this feeling- As not one can default_ Of all it truly seeks. Fighting the wars, merely won on the past_ previous Escapade's, On the truces of truth. Stands firm and tall, Relatively all along. A positive mentalist, A determined mindset, A humble individual_ Highly dedicated And fully determined Having negativism eradicated. Despite how it all looks, Sophistically complicated I have all my wills, Precious bills to be initiated. A focused soul. Doing the best to shake off, All the shackles of darkness Profuse dark need's_ No Hope mentality, Out of our every human borne Off the transgress, Of life's worst enemy's, That kill's hopes in life. On very self individuals, I try to wipe it all out Erasing all its crooked details_ Engraved wildly on many A blurred people's life. The negatively emotional Wrath stained life's invoice Much a strain to many. Just dearly,do hear my voice. As in your personalised mails, I will send some by the rails Tagging along recorded clips_ Mine own recorded voice Blended with messages of hope The best percussionist's theme With a perfect rhyming scheme With a Hope streams beat sets A perfect blend rhythm. Rejoice! Oo' ye' Brethren. Son's and Daughter's, Of the very Most High. Let out your faint sigh's, Relax your panting, The gulping gasps, And rest all your worries- Along the wicked fears, To the reign of the supreme On the kingdom of the Most High, Our Holy God. Lay off,Yours all earthly burdens And soar again- As a new soul, A new being_ Divinely borne Blended in Holiness's. Cast out your eyes And settle them over, The glittering sigh post_ With glittery letters of Gold, That's so clear on sight. A message of Hope, To us all- So loosen your grips_ And firm holds off the ropes, That tags,drags along The petty dark burdens Of our own pretty pasts. Embark on a Divine journey- The very new noble course, And progress with pilgrimage_ An affirmative programme, Cruising mast vast mileages Crossing many boundaries, Past many a villages, Across the horizons, Preaching the Gospel. Touching along lives. New hopes,new things Great achievements And magnificent endeavors, To people's you truly spell_ For a new life- All can spell, Walking in new Grace's New righteous traces, To the very far end..
it’s no longer july not a cloud above the sky august breeze rips through the car window to tear at my hair the only choices i make are both feet on the gas and no hands on the wheel this is the only way i truly feel healed will these be my halcyon days? anhedonia thickens brain fog into an impenetrable haze even high beams won’t make a dent in this maize true ambivalence comes at the cost of change have any coins in your innermost pockets?
devouring the skin inside my lip. of course, everything in the human body is connected. of course. staining the porcelain with blood and iron, iron and blood and water, the permutations of rust. my voice becomes sticky, sickly sweet - the performance of wellness thickened even further by blood. my crazy, concentrated and caustic, drains through my nose and onto my chin and onto my shirt and onto my hands and down the drain. “i wish the blood inside my mouth were yours”.
Sloganeering memetic, Lowly speaker of rhetoric, Teach us a world hate filled. He speaks of the sieve: 'It seeks to strain and divide, It sees two ways and aligns, Hands in bonds, eyes blind, Invest your money wisely, As do Gods on Friday.' Lies.
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.