Broad Enough To Bear It

Borne of teeth and bone and things hard enough to carry it and not subdue its seriousness in unnecessary folds of flesh. 

This task I undertake.

Ignoring its consistent knock at my door, it enters the crack the moment my eyes close and I give pause for peaceful slumber. It is there. Every night it is there. 

I know I must learn to know the changes will change me. I have aged enough to view the curriculum, but am hesitant to learn the lesson. 

I hold you within my heart. Always I will. The sadness will not lapse. The torn river will never dry, but only ebb steadily along below the surface. My small vial of tears I keep behind my Breastbone will crack forth painfully and sprinkle my cheeks.I will miss you. I will mourn you. You will always be the Flagship that bears the Parade of All things that bring me utter bleak dark sadness and longing and loss.  All these things I know. And I know... It will not end. 

So if I must carry this,.. and carry this I must,..

I must not fear letting go to move forward. There will be more. There is always more. As long as I don't get mired in my fear and stagnate. I cannot see what I do not open my eyes to.

My Back must be Broad Enough to Bear this.  

My Back is Broad Enough to Bear This. 

Disneyland of Hope and Fear

 This is what they are all here for.  The Masses.  The Bald Brigade.
      All wearing the same unplanned uniform; a sea of fuzzy furry hats and comfortable shoes,
Eyes shiny with a mixture of pleading Hope and Fear. Smiles, nervous and sticky, meant to placate and entice the white coats behind the desks and the doors.

 This IS the Brave New World of the High school mandatory reading list.
A Circular building designed to convey Hope, Strength, and Competent Efficiency.

"The Answers are Here." the Marble Hallways seem to Echo...

 Colorful tanks of Exotic fish line the walls of the 8 Floors,
     A professional piano player Floods the Main lobby with Tchaikovsky's movement...
paralogically lowering the stress in the air and the skin of the Masses.

Lucky to be Here.  And They know it.   - Heads nod and bob to one another. A secret morse code of acknowledgement and understanding. Coughs are masked in Respect,. Sanitizer is offered on Every wall.  Spacious rooms offer an aversion to overcrowding,. insuring you feel individualized and not just "one of the masses."  Games, puzzles, magazines, books, musicians, an Art gallery, a jewelry market,..
....Doldrums are vanquished in this place of shiny, smelly- good, colorful, hope.
                                                                 

 .....It ticks and it hums and it runs smoothly like a Swiss watch. 

             No questions are met disparagingly..                                                                                  Paperwork is handed off from one to the other as neatly and precisely stacked as Russian Nesting Dolls.

Children? Oh my no,.. Children are harbingers of death and bear disease on the plains of their neophyte  washed hands. . . They- must stay in carefully sanctioned areas.

Lighting is diffused, natural light pours through an abundance of windows giving a sense of Peace. A garden terrace is offered in which to escape. A feeding-meeting-greeting place aptly named the Waterfall Cafe' offers Only well prepared Holistic inspired Organic dishes....

Fall.  ....Into the 8 Floor rounded Marble Hands, Close your eyes Peacefully,.. Gratefully,.. as you gaze upon the Art, the Fish, the Enormous cylindrical tubes of Water- air bubbling steadily,. circulating upwards. 

Know that your Name will be Called.

             Know that you have a Name.     Here,.. Every Question is Answered.  Every Fear is Addressed...

This is what they are all here for.   The Masses.  The People of the Hidden Enemy.  The Victims of the Life taking "c'' word.     - They are here,..for the Hope.- 

They are here at this Disneyland of Fear.

The Shadow In The Room

Moving Forward. Fear tangles my feet. Too many worries on a cool autumn birth. Your pride unhinges you. My words massacre your wings built feather by feather. The shadow has entered the room. You opened the door for it,. and sensing my fear, you cast no light upon its true meaning thinking mistakenly that leaving it to loom amidst your welcome would save my soul. I needed the light upon its face for its brutal terrifying armor of secrets to fall away. No light was I given.  Slowly the winds spun the dust winding between the three of us in the room until there was nothing clearly seen. Confusion heightened my terror and words poured from my mouth unbidden in a plea to protect my visceral insides, instead they shattered on the floor into a million shards of poison glass embedding into the heels of our soles and our souls. You ran bleeding for the door. Intent upon my certainty I pled for the removal of the shadows,.in the wake of the moon's wax,. I realize you never had any intention of admonishing the shadow from the room, instead wishing me to eat my fear with hands bound in blind faith, to accept the sting without explanation, while my eyes and ears lay in the darkness clutching at passing clips of light through the windows edge.

The NightMares Run

She rode bareback atop the sweaty fur of the NightMares again last night. 
The hooves quickened pace sounding and resounding in her eardrums. 
Their ears lay flat against their dark heads, froth pouring from their lips and bared teeth. Their nostrils flared...crazed eyes; white orbs in a black sky.
The Nightmares ran wild; and she carried with them.


Tendrils of wet mane curling around her eyes so only bits and pieces of the landscape did she see...
Her small damp frame clung tightly to the curve of the spines, the rise and fall of the neck.
The Darkness. 
and She was here no More.


She rode naked again on the Nightmares last night. Slick sweat covered fur between her thighs.. Froth and wind blowing past her cheeks as the pounding gathered beneath her. 
and She was here. No more.