Skip to main content

Pulling Away to the Next Life

Sometimes what stirs in the mind and soul spills out in a way that feels more like broken pieces found after a storm rips through a town. I am learning that allowing the free associations to come lightens the load I carry that can't find its place to compartmentalize. Humans need means to let go. Writing Poetry is my way. It isn't a picture of my current state of mind, but simply a dance of words, and expression of madness that is healthy, not harmful. Words released in wild display somehow is freeing and brings happiness. Sometimes I think we need to stop trying to explain. Hope is always found in knowing God and being in His presence.




I listened to the thoughts in my head
And noticed I was drifting.
Seated behind the wheel of a car
My soul watched me moving away.

Is it because I am tired?
Or am I coming unglued?
I don't know, can't tell.
Just familiar - what I used to do.



Dissociation comes.
Even when it isn't called.
It shows up on it own.
My body presses 'gainst a wall.

Spirit, soul and mind blend--
Don't we so often pretend,
To be together, when we're frayed--
Knowing we need to mend.

Hurry, go get the glue
Use a hammer or a screw,
Staple her back in layers.
We will act like she is new.

Give her space - don't get close,
She might spit at you.
Spray or squirt, stain like ink--
It doesn't matter what you do.

Life gets messy on the inside
Keep it closed, stay safe.
Dirty, dripping, liquid drain-
Irritating, left her chafe.

Light turns green, on we go.
Split second chance is gone.
Hold it back, never come again.
Doest matter, the picture's torn.

Odd lockbox of raw thoughts.
Some call them --memories,
Who controls the shutter speed
Pushing through forwardings.



Ground me close to My God,
Solidify in my core,
I'm sealed by the Holy Ghost,
Praising He keeps the score.

Spinning head on a table,
Twirling round and round,
Wisps of laugher seeming shallow,
Nowhere else to be found.

Eternity rings hollow,
When our feet touch new grass.
The hands of time stand still
As we breaking like thin glass.



Bursts of color fill my senses
Psychedelic patterns perfuse.
The cold rush of a spring breeze.
I bliss in HIS good news.


















Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Weak and Selfish - I am That Girl

The preacher says we are all the body of Christ...that each member is necessary, a part that functions in unison with all others, but God, in this life--in our time spent on earth--in present day local churches, this is not really true. It sounds good, repeated over and over, because the Bible says so and therefore we all should. But churches seek the best, the ones that fit their mold, the ones who meet their mission, the one that helps their goal. They keep track of numbers, saving all the souls, running them through baptism, collecting them in the fold. But those of us with broken parts, not shiny like the rest, we hear what no one else hears, we feel words with our soul, we sense when something isn't right, therefore we get left out in the cold. Who wants to work with such a pain, she is trouble where she goes, she stirs the pot and sifts for truth, she sees the thorns and not the rose. Why can't she just be silent, "if you don't like...

I Want To Be Normal

I want to help others but I can't help myself. I love and know God and trust Him too, but that doesn't stop my brain from being a jumbled mess.  Jumbled thoughts can be pretty! Scattered thoughts keep bombarding me.  I feel like a rattle-head.  I think I wrote once about this before, being a rattle-head . And it was the least-read post...Even I couldn't relate to it much after the episode passed. I have cried out to God for help this morning and for the past two days. I have gone to others for prayer and carefully, with exercising great inner control tried to explain to my family of three teens and my dear husband (I almost didn't want to say dear, oh, how hard it can be on a marriage--to twirl out of control and to not know why or how to make the top stop spinning). I don't know what pushed the top into its first spin.  And that is part of the problem I can't think clearly. I can't remember even simple things.  It is like the f...

Another Lost Day! (Life after child abuse trauma)

Another one.... another lost day.... they add up so much... so many lost days. Running on the inside, hurting on the outside. Words, oh so many words.... healing, clinging, cutting through, knowing, telling me what to do. And do I do it, or must I wait? And who can do it, or must I stay? Running on the outside, hurting on the inside. No one will see.... how they hurt me... No one will know.... pass by so slow. And does it really matter? Can it make sense? Is it so important? Looking through a lens..... Running for a living, hurting cause I'm dying. no hope, no flight, no chance, no life..... crystal spinning..... little eye lids close.... Is there any hope? Will it really help? Who will reach her know? No one seems to know? And does it really matter? Does anybody care? A blimp in the universe, with who will she share..... Can you hear it, getting louder, bellow screaming, shouting sounder? I can't hear a word. I can't see a sound. How can it be? I d...