Posted in Word Prompt

For Your Eyes Only …

I fret over what you’ll see
If you look too closely.
I fear you may find
I’m just a monster in disguise.
One foot in reality
The other always wandering.
Forever split in two
By these worlds in my mind.
But if you promise,
We can seal it with a kiss,
I’ll keep your truth hidden
From prying eyes.
Because I see inside,
You’re a monster just like I am.

Fret

The prompt spurred something else but it fits with a different project I’m working on so I’m keeping it to myself for now.

Also, Jimi Hendrix Both Sides of the Sky … is just grand. 

Oh, and it’s my 2 year anniversary of starting this blog apparently! I didn’t post much my first year but to celebrate (of sorts) here’s my more popular post of 2016 (with a whopping 20 views). 

Filthy Love

You’re dirty,
Unkept hair and grungy hands.
You’re filthy,
As your cigarette dangles

The smoke wafts, slow and pungent
Your filthy smile, your stormy eyes.

Watching me
Watch you.

Wringing your filthy hands,
How I long for them

You’re dirty
Slow burn and fading ash.
You’re filthy
As you pull me close.

The smoke conceals, thick and dark
Your filthy words, your gentle lips

Seducing me
Seduce you.

Sliding your filthy hands,
How I long for them

You’re dirty
So filthy,

As you pull me
To my knees.

As I pull you
Into me.

Posted in Word Prompt

Loose Window Cranks

These old windows, operated by worn cranks, filter the world through a permanent haze. Worn paint peels off by the inch revealing layer upon layer of stained pasts. The floor creaks where I stand though I don’t so much as sway. Perhaps it’s the teenage angst they claim should be boiling within my viens. The walls give nothing away, not a blink nor a smirk and I wonder again and again if they could just absorb me, make me disappear without a trace, what history would this old room show?

Greta had the room before me, so they say. Before that a man with barely a face and no name. Before them? Those people are long gone. Victims of loose window cranks.

The world through that window haze looks so serene, a universe unlike my own. It must be so divine, to float away in that daze.

My mind begins to drift, the very thing that spurred my interment here. I’m drifting away, from this room, from the world at large. There are creatures beyond the window, in the blurry starlight of the world at night. Some are big, they fly far above me to places yet unknown. Some are small, confined to the land below. They nip the seams of my tattered jeans, wishing to bring me low. It’s their cries, shrill and unending, that pierce the silence.

Detached from myself, I pull the crank and feel my soul drop thousands of feet in seconds; right back to the creaking floor of this room. The years have rusted this portal shut.

Somewhere, in the back of my rational mind, I hear the nurses say “take the medicine dear, it’ll keep the monsters at bay.”

Crank

Posted in stream of consciousness

Aqui.

It’s that time again!

Prompt – Present

Music – Pete Rock – Petestrumentals

Are you present?

Aqui.

Are we ever really?

This week has me wondering when the last time I really sat down and chose to be present in the moment was.

And what did it teach me?

Have you ever tried it?

Through meditation?

The hardest thing about meditation for me at first was clearing my mind.

It’s amazing how hard that can be.

We all have moments where we zone out and I guess sometimes we like to think of that as clearing the mind but it’s not really is it?

In my case I’m zoning out because there’s something very much there, standing heavy on my mind.

Definitely not clear.

I remember one of the techniques I learned was to think in images, not words, then clear those images away.

Put them away into boxes or whatever so that you can clear that space in your mind.

Do you know how hard it is to make a conscious effort to think without words?

It’s harder than you’d imagine it’d be.

Once you get better at it you’re supposed to be able to take this practice into daily life.

You can meditate while doing the most under appreciated things like walking or eating …

Concentrate on your step, how your foot hits the ground and moves you forward.

Do you really want to move forward?

What are you walking away from?

Towards?

What about your food, what does it taste like?

Hopefully not cheap corrugated plastic.

Do you remember the eyes of the person you love?

The exact way the colors of their iris flow into each other?

Or the way their eyes squint and the skin creases at the corners when they laugh.

How about their smile?

When they’re staring off into space, zoned out, and smiling to themselves,

Do you remember the way their lips curve?

How about the feel of their hand in yours?

Or their arms around you?

Do you remember the way their hair smells when you have them pulled close?

Time’s up.