creativity · dreams · poetry · spirituality · writing

Spiritual Tugging

My house is in order!
I shout to a cosmos
intent on ignoring my pleas

chthonic forces insist
on invading dreams
psychic locks ineffectual

no barriers to protect
when soul mocks
purported equilibrium

Order, spirit answers,
is a temporal concept;
continue to grow.

(For Ragtag Community’s prompt: temporal.  Image from personal collection.)

dreams · Family · mental-health · poetry

Sleeping Alone

Sleeping alone –
so intrusive –
a child born of
so many intentions
awash in a trail
of barricades

I cope, cook up
breezes, strike
wet ground,
stuff myself
to satiate
the onslaught

ground rapidly
shifting –
Earth Mother
exerting presence –
too stubborn,
I turn away

Look for
God, but my
cup keeps moving –
I am unreachable,
charmed by
a broken tale

aimless,
oppositional,
overwhelmed –
cry out but
absence holds
no listeners

need adhesive
to fix this urgency –
a peerless torrent –
if only I could simplify
these wounds
find a stopgap

emotion
bubbles up
overflows
manifests
external turmoil
replaying sorrow

sleep offers
no repair
alone
tormented
by the issue
at hand.

(Image: blogs.voanews.com)

dreams · mental-health · poetry · writing

A Nightmare in Poetic Form

(Note:  Inspiration for my poetry is derived from the Dreamtime.  Occasionally, a nightmare will evoke the creation of a short story.  A recent nightmare continues to haunt me, so I have attempted both forms of literature to garner new meaning.  The poem follows and the prose version can be seen here.  Which form offers more insights I wonder?  objectivity in the form of comments appreciated.

Nightmare:  A Poem

Melancholy hovers, haunts,
fed by isolation, taunts
threads of sanity.

Darkness, incomplete,
reveals movement –
trickery of light?

Fear’s grip renders
motionless its victim
serenity shattered

Logic has no tolerance
for the undefined,
ghosts off-limits

Is disease the culprit,
inflammation upsetting
equilibrium, a mind aflame?

The veil between worlds
is flimsy, unhinged, shifts
awareness now peaked

I know you are there!
Show yourself!
Stillness.

Madness threatening,
pleas gather insistence
Come forward – be known!

These are merely games
one reality pit against
another, neither winning

A feminine figure emerges –
her presence emitting an aura
of alarm, indicates a window

Two figures, cloaked in black
towering shadows stalking
live prey, the scent of vulnerability

The ego withdraws, seeks
cover, cannot stop the onslaught
of monsters emerging from walls

Delusion, one last prayer for sanity
but the floorboards recede, reveal
skeletons, there is no escape

 

 

abuse · dreams · poetry · recovery · women's issues

Secret Keepers

They always take the back roads,
virginal snow-covered lanes
lined with trees: pastoral views

Unmarked routes, out of sight,
use the innocence of landscape
to blot out their dark intentions

Pristine picture perfect scenes
lull the unsuspecting; breath-
taking vistas; secret keepers

The roads still exist in my dreams
the trees like soldiers, stiff and stark
stripped of their magical allure, now

guard the memories, painted red
with the loss of purity; I had not
guessed the danger of woods

Child mind incapable of conceiving
what wolves roamed in nature
the blood of their victims crimson

stains forever etched in silhouette
the shrillness of their screams
now silent echoes in the night.

(Image:  www.flickr.com)