Look around you,
Look in side you.
If you look long enough,
You will see chaos.
We are formed from chaos.
We are made of chaos.
But nevertheless, we are in a form.
Order, the enemy of chaos.
Human beings are a living paradox.
They are a form of chaos.
A lot of time my mind is so clear,
So awake, so aware,
But also, so overwhelmed,
Even with what seems like paranoia.
My thoughts move so fast,
That I can’t keep up with them.
I’ll be so tired, and I’ll lay down,
But I can’t turn my mind off.
It is like a speeding train,
Trying to go around a sharp curve.
The strain of it all, sometimes,
Causes me to wonder if I can stand it,
If, like that speeding train,
I will run off the tracks.
I try to control, to be practical,
To distract myself, take meds,
But I can’t always do that.
Sometimes I am caught in an atmosphere
Where I feel the need to escape,
But I don’t really want to,
I want to participate in life, feel it,
Be there, interact with whatever
Or whomever is around.
Maybe I need more discipline.
Maybe I need to be more careful.
But I don’t always want to hide.
Sometimes I don’t want to be rational.
We all occasionally do stupid things.
And sometimes, I regret it.
Sometimes my wife has to reel me in,
Get me back to reality.
I am grateful for doctors, counselors,
Family and friends.
It does help to have support.
I just have to take it one moment at a time,
Doing the best I can.
That’s all I can expect of myself.
I don’t feel normal, at the moment,
Not sure if I ever have, it seems,
But not normal for me, anyway.
I’m tilting, off center, more than usual.
Everything, more than usual.
More elated, more depressed,
More scared, more sad.
More overwhelmed, if there is such.
I have help near me,
In the bed with me, at the moment,
My spouse, my mate, my caregiver.
So cold that seems, I know.
But I’m trying to keep
As much distance from my feelings
As I can, for fear of breaking,
Under the strain. A strategy, at least.
A possible plan exists,
Plan A, with sub plans 1 and 2.
Plan B, with the same.
Trying to stay logical, a chore.
So, will I make it?
I have commitments,
Some more important than others.
How will I fulfill them?
What if worse comes to worse,
And I am environmentally incapacitated,
So to speak. What then, I plead?
What of my mate, my lovely, innocent,
Sweet, but somewhat dependent mate?
Who will assist her? We have friends,
A few. There is always family, not far,
Too far, anyway. She asked me,
Should I ask them to come?
I said, not yet, later, when I’m gone.
Extras throw variables into the equation,
Drama I’m not prepared to deal with,
Right now. Keep it simple, please,
That’s what I always want, just simple.
I have enough variables in my own body,
For God’s sake. I’m a logarithm unto myself.
So she stays with me, keeps distracting,
She does her best. No social media,
She orders. Delete it. Take it off your phone.
It’s a disaster waiting to happen,
She claims, but I know she’s right.
I might have to disappear for a while,
Remove myself from normal contact,
For the most part. I hate it. I hate it all.
I hate life right now, not her, though,
Though I do get stressed, from all
The checking, the instructions,
The alarms, the constant reminders.
It gets old, after a while.
But that’s the least of my problems,
The very least. I’m not too worried.
I’m safe, for the most part.
I’m safe, you can be sure.
Though on the verge of tears,
Every other moment,
I am in control, at least,
I tell myself that, and she agrees.
We both have doubts,
As to how long that will last.
It’s a scary territory to be in,
You understand. You must understand,
If I am to continue. Let’s be partners,
For now, like my spouse and me,
We’re a team, an old team,
We know how each other works,
We know the strengths we can lean on,
The weaknesses to look for,
The buttons to push, and not.
Most efficient. Most reliable, so forth.
So, now that I’ve been vague,
I’ll keep it up, it works, right now.
Crisis mode, on alert for anything,
Everything more, all but more.
Our…How could you let that happen?
Who art…where are you when I need you?
Hallowed be…what am I supposed to do with that boy?
Thy Kingdom…I am afraid to show my face there, ever again.
Thy will…how can I ever live up to their expectations?
On Earth…please, please take my life, kill him or me, I can’t take it anymore.
As it is…will I burn in hell for my sins?
Give us this…I need help, right now!
Forgive us our…I am so ashamed of who I am as a person, and though I try with all my might, I can’t seem to change.
As we…I will never forgive him for what he did to me. Never!
Lead us…I know I should never have gone, I knew what would happen to her, and I let it happen. How can I live with myself?
But deliver us…No, I can’t. Please, no! Stop!
For thine is…I hate myself. I hate all of them. I’ll never go back. Then, they’ll be forced to understand.
Forever and…This will be my last message.
Amen.
Mealtime.
Southern flair hides the truth.
Mangled reputations build from the gossip.
Turncoat private comments, issue it in.
Lies shown from the underside,
Heat up the relationship,
Until it burns to a crisp, then falls to nothing.
I like the atmosphere, it’s comfortable,
To a point. Nature is beautiful up here.
Hills and oak trees sway my soul to relax.
I wonder sometimes, how I am deceived,
But sooner or later, it shows its face.
I like it still, for some reason.
Am I the same? Sometimes, I wonder.
Sure, I lie, I am two-faced in desperation.
Walking through danger,
I am like everyone else.
Can I prove myself,
To challenge the status quo?
I hope so. I want to be different.
We all have our weaknesses, I guess.
So, what is yours?
Love. Leisure. Emptiness. Somber.
Yearning. Wishing things were different.
Hand in hand. Holding your heart
Close to me. Spite. Bitterness.
Laughing. Loneliness. But,
A balance comes with age, with wisdom.
Time helps you handle life’s ups and downs.
Real. Genuine. Grasping all the parts
That we experience. Biting a bit, giving.
Treasuring all of it. Allowing everything it’s place.
Accepting. Moving on. Wondering what will come next,
Enjoying the adventure, the unexpectedness of it all.
Making plans, then canceling them.
Changing your mind. Commitment.
Staying true to yourself. Hanging in there.
Being there. Helping. Doing your part.
Hoping. Dreaming. Staying. Sorting it out.
Loving life, no matter what happens.
It is all part of it. It wouldn’t be the same
Without every part. Thankful.
And there were little things, powerful things. Stop! Turn back! I scream, but there is no one to hear. No one left in this world who cares. It is the end, above and below. All things come to a stop. There is no air. Nothing moves at all. I don’t see any light, but neither is it dark. The world is a blank surface, empty, where there is nothing to do, nothing to be.
And then, just as sudden, all begins to be again. There is movement all around, scurrying. Across the surface, things cling, to anything, whatever is nearby. Can I exist again? Can I be? I want to feel the rhythm of life in my body. I concentrate now, focusing on my breathing. I feel the warmth in my chest, and the coldness of my feet. There is much movement: a squirrel climbs up a tree. A breeze pushes into my hair, gently swaying a few locks across my forehead. I think about the blood pulsing through my body. I want to say I am empty, but instead, I realize, I am full. I am content.
A few moments pass, and I just stand there. I look around. I am standing in my front yard. I must be weird. I am alone, except for God’s creatures, doing as they always do. I think about myself instead, which is my tendency. I am embarrassed. How long have I been standing out here? Have things happened as they seem, or was it all in my head? I look around again, gazing down the street. I see a neighbor, a few houses down, getting into their car. I wave, but he takes no notice, which is normal. Why do neighbors wave to each other, despite the fact that they have never spoken a word? I guess it makes us feel like we are giving something back, saying thanks for being there, thanks for never bothering me, thanks for being you. It all runs together. It is a seemless tapestry that has its own beauty, in its simplicity. Really, it doesn’t bother me. It is almost a comfort, staying in my own private space. I prefer to be in my own world, without interruption.
Now, to continue. How will I move on, now that the world has returned to me? So much has happened, and, yet, from the looks of it, nothing at all. It must have been an an illusion. Perhaps a better word is hallucination. Am I schizophrenic? I dismiss that possibility, for, at the least, it makes me uncomfortable. How many things passing through our minds each day do we dismiss for the benefit of our own comfort, our own convenience? So trivial, so irresponsible. I wonder.
Morphing slightly
Into a butterfly.
The colors change
Into a beautiful creation.
I want to be that creature.
I want to change.
I want to be beautiful,
Happy with a raindrop
On a leaf.
Like a child,
Devoid of self-consciousness,
Wanting to play again,
Laugh loudly,
Run without care,
Giggle at everything,
Kick and bounce,
Enjoy a sprinkler in the front yard,
Or pretend.
Maybe when I’m older,
I won’t care what people think,
I will find my own way again
To be myself.
I will be able to have visions,
Enjoy the little things,
Relax without worry,
Not take myself too seriously.
Life is funny,
How we move in circles,
But there I go again.
Love means
A new life
In the making,
A fresh start, with hope,
A dream.
Another chance
To make a difference.
A companion
In this journey
On our own narrow path
Of joy and sorrow.
I believe in God,
But I pray for more faith.
I’m always short
When the going gets rough.
Couldn’t we all
Use a little extra help
From an all powerful,
Infinite being?
I pray for protection.
I pray for grace,
And mercy, and forgiveness,
And God gives freely
When we ask him,
Out of an honest,
Pure heart,
Full of love and faith.
I do want
To be free
Of all that God despises,
But it seems it chases me,
Everywhere I go.
I want to escape
This broken world.
It seems so hard,
Sometimes.
One lovely day
It will happen,
I’m sure.
One day we will become
All of that which we dream.
My soul lingers
On the beauty of life.
Other hearts beat
Inside my own.
Truth begins
In a conversation.
Love spreads
From their spirit
To mine.
Can I discover
The beautiful tapestry
That weaves us both together?
I want to know.
I need their truths.
I need a connection
To soothe my aching
Body and soul.
Let us begin
To recognize
There is much to be gained
In bridging the chasms
That are really illusions
Birthed by our fears.
We are only trying
To survive
Amidst the insanity
Of our childish monsters.
How we are treated
Does not determine
Our future life
Anymore than we allow,
For we decide
How much our nightmares
Grip us in their piercing claws.
It is our choice,
Whether or not
We embrace the salvation
All around us,
Filling our lungs
Full of crisp, clean air,
No more a prisoner
In the suffocating dungeons
That we create,
In the castles of fear,
Surrounded by walls of protection,
Isolated by moats of distance,
Guarded by sentries of delusion,
Defended by any means possible.
We must embrace
The wisdom before us,
If we want to discover
The beauty of life.
Stumbling along the sidewalk 