Gray Grace

•March 10, 2014 • 4 Comments

I am sad, no
I am depressed
There is no good reason
So don’t bother asking
I have not had any “major life event”
And clearly I have many things to cheer me
I was simply and suddenly one day covered
Smothered by this heavy wet wool blanket of blah
I carry it around with me, every place, everyday
Invisible to all of you, to everyone
Unless you look close enough, and stay
Long enough to see my shoulders
Slightly strained beneath the weight
My gait slightly buckled and shuffling
The tiny muscles in my face pulled awkward
By the force it takes to look effortless
To smile, to laugh, to please, to make light
All while I am silently squeezed dark, invisible
As this wretched thing wraps itself tight
Keeping me disconnected from the world
Even while I stand next to you, a pleasant girl
I feel nothing but stagnant stale of scratch and breath
Occasionally a bit of music will help me to forget
I may even dance in an effort to shake this off
But the blanket remains, and maybe I dance anyway
Reaching for reality, hoping for some bit of joy
To find its way between these gray folds of fabrication
And maybe it does for a moment, muffled hesitation
But who can dance for long with such a heavy
Dead weight for a waltzing partner
Please, do not throw aphoristic advice my way
Well meaning, sure, but words will not help me shred these layers
Only stop, still, sit with me for a while
Perhaps pick up a cornered edge of this shroud
Hold it tattered in your hand, hold it with me where I am
Feel it for a moment, itchy on our skin
Smell the sodden sickly scent that leads us from within
Make some effort to speak this thing out loud
Make it simply okay
Because you are here with me
Uncomfortable as I am but willing to stay
That is all
If you cannot do that then walk away
I cannot now carry both of us around
Go, I do not have the strength
I’ll stay bundled up till spring
The snow is coming anyway

–A.R.

20140302-190739.jpg

Because I have been depressed, perhaps coming out of it, I am not sure.

But I am sure that others have felt, are feeling this too.  And so I wrote…

Vacation Lens (repost)

•March 9, 2014 • 4 Comments

Vacation lens
Through which I see
Each carefully crafted stone
Laid by multitude of calloused hand
Or strewn by centuries of time
Once carried by shrugged sinew
Bowed and heavy backs
Built by thick layers
Of want and need and servitude
Changed briefly by virtue of my vision
Now quaint, romantic, inspired
I find myself wishing
This lens would find my home
Fogging and releasing
All those
Boundaries, borders, bloody minutes
Till only charm is left
Along with gratitude
To have been visited, distilled into
The ghost of me imagined
Noble enough
For history’s sake
And ideally captured

— A.R.

20140309-234047.jpg
Photo taken by me in Rome

Reposted because a brief road trip refocused my lens. Wish I could keep the focus a little while longer.

Pinched

•March 6, 2014 • Leave a Comment

A pinched nerve
And a Percocet
Both with a coffee chaser
Have rearranged
My plans today
A “must get done” eraser

-a.r.

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Enter Dragon

•March 5, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The subtlety of medicinal mist is tempting
But eventually, inevitably, I need direct the sting
Of the needle puncturing my vein, infusing
Immediate, immaculate, this drug called life, enticing
Suggestion, innuendo, only goes so far till fading
A touch, a pinprick, direct connection, humming
From injection outward coursing through, infecting
I will chase the dragon, passion, always hunting
Even if it takes me down, I will go revved up, buzzing

–A.R.

20140305-094329.jpg

I cannot remember how I found this image, or its  title.
If be when I track it down I will cite it properly.
Apologies to the artist.

Intimate Season (repost)

•March 4, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Because lately, I have been dormant in the drift,
and instead of fighting it because I feel so unproductive,
perhaps it’s best to let it be and know that spring is on its way.

Intimate Season (repost).

Blank

•March 2, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Tonight
I am blank
Having finished the chapter
Excited to see what happens
Next…and then…nothing
No page numbers, no story
Not even an errant smudge, only
Empty unblinking pages
A mistake by the binder, or…
For a millisecond of a moment
Fear catches, steals my breath
What if all the rest are blank
Do I dare test it, turn the page
Or put it down and close my eyes
Content enough to know that I
Even got this far, yes, perhaps
Tomorrow I’ll have the courage
Because tonight
I am blank

–a.r.

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Blank Stare by nothought on deviantART

My Happiness

•February 27, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Art in all its forms
Makes me happy
In a way few people can
Because it asks nothing
Of me except this
“Who are you and what
do you bring?”
And patiently it waits
Long, for my answer

–A.R.

Unconditional Love

Unconditional Love by Amberlite on devaintART

(un)Balanced

•February 26, 2014 • Leave a Comment

  Perfect Permanent Balance

Does not exist

Do not wish it

Is simply the midpoint

Of our own pointy pendulum

While we find our swing

To the next extreme

A talent perfected

      Only in death

ar

Well-Deserved-Respite-After-a-Particulary-Brutal-Goring-Bill-Carman

Well Deserved Respite After a Particularly Brutal Goring by Bill Carman

Part of his Unbalanced series.

Filled

•February 23, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I prefer a thrill
To emptiness
Even if it fills
Me only to be
Spilled again
Splattered
Everywhere
And wanting

— a.r.

20140223-180715.jpg

Splatter Paint by M-I-Arias on deviantART

Baudelaire over Buddha next to Nietzsche

•February 22, 2014 • 4 Comments

I have been drunk
I have been empty
I have been catatonic
I much prefer the guzzling
Or the complete checking out
To the walking dead of nothingness
I’d rather fight and fuck and make mistakes
I’d rather collapse into my own battened brainscape
Than I would choose again this hollowed out detachment
Neither drink of wine, of virtue, of poetry, of passion, of attachment
Can destroy beauty born of pain as much as the letting go can
Because when I did that, all will to live let go of me
It was not enlightenment I found but depression
A safe and cold cocoon away from contact
A flatlined plateau of perfect peace
No, that escape is not for me
You may keep it
If it helps, but I
Will save myself

–A.R.

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The Turin Horse by KatarinaRss on deviantART