Butterfly?

Butterfly?

Epihany

The same stubborn scenario
The same view every night
A silhouette, close to the edge
A moth under the light
The echo of my thoughts
On infinite repeat
A schizophrenic mind field
Of two and a half feet

Turned one hundred and eighty
In a blanketed cocoon
A butterfly to a moth
Under the light of the moon
A stark and palpable silence
An insurmountable rut
Urges, kept at arm’s length
Until my eyes flutter shut

Take me back to my muse
Release me from this storm
From the cold of my creation
The bitter back to the warm
From this tempest in a teapot
 These chilling winds of blame
 The frigid reality each night
The moth back to the flame

An exasperating tug of war
Across a span of diminished hope
There has to be some solace
Near the end of my rope
Nothing that I can do or say
Changes, impervious to gain
The collateral damage is done
A consequence to the pain

So many months, eaten away
The thin fabric of a ruse
Resentful of my own creation
 A moth disguised as a muse
Rose-coloured tunnel vision?
Wishful thinking all along?

For the sanity of lost time
It would help if I was wrong

Take me back to my muse
Release me from this regret
From the pall of uncertainty
That hangs over me yet
From the now back to the then
The difference of day to night
To open arms and an open mind
To a butterfly, in a better light

Suspended

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Suspended
A wind worn branch,

reduced to a splinter.
I am a rabbit hole,
hidden beneath winter.

The morning starts out the same…
With smiles and good intentions
With energy and lofty goals
  But, the minutes are ticking
Toward the end of both
Toward the mid-day lull
Imagination grinding to a halt
Hitting the proverbial wall.

Wheels locked in place,
 gears wanting in power.
I am time standing still,
hand stuck on the hour.


The reluctant optimist,

 hopeful that there is more.
I am a tree lined road,
winding to the shore.

There is a fine line in place…
That separates good from great
That distinguishes less from more
 Potential, on the threshold of change
Sometimes it meets a path
Sometimes it’s on a ledge
The brink of a breakthrough
 Precariously near the edge.

An expanse from a destination,
 a misstep from being lost.

I am a suspension bridge,
 longing to be crossed.


The battered pitcher,
that’s been to the well.
I am the grizzled veteran,
  with stories left to tell.

Personal insights ready to be shared…
Seeing the importance of each day
Seeing the enormity of the little things
So much potential, yet to be met
Bringing along a passion for life
Bringing an open book to the table

The mind is more than willing
The body, fighting to be able.

A semi-automatic rifle,
unsure of where it’s aimed.
I am the winning lottery ticket,
waiting to be claimed.

 

 

Stimulus

Calendar
Stimulus
Spinning your wheels

Stuck in a daily rut
Same old same old day
Time for something new

Needing time for you
 Needing to get away

blocked path
Take a trip to the other side

The one you seldom see
The road less travelled
The path least accessible
Beyond the place to be

Where we need to go
to feel more alive
More often than we do
A place like no other
Where few have seen the view

An adrenalin adventure
to the other side
Past the comfort zone
To the weedy

To the seedy
To the vastly overgrown
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An arduous journey
to where revelation may lie
To where something
could jump out at you
as you wander by

Where the mind is awakened
By the elements of surprise
By discovering there’s more
there is so much more
than what meets the eyes

A gut check trek
Over blind hills
to the other side
To the inspirational

To the motivational
To where revelations hide
hazy woods
Sensations abruptly awakened
Bringing the dark into light
Energy to your being
Focus to all you’re seeing

Colour to your black and white

Where nature may compel you
to perceive a different way
To exist in the moment
Persist for the present
To live for every day

A vital injection
of life adrenalin

straight to the heart
A shot to the senses
An end to past tenses
 The stimulus to start
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SAME

SAME

Eyes wide openIMG_20150330_112911[1]
Looking over at me
Awake in the wake.
        More beautiful
        More expressive
        More than I can take.

That same dream
The same image
         just as clear.

The same realities
The same memories
         find me here.


Still you are gone
Never coming back

Sadly taken away.
        Hard to accept
        Hard to understand
        Hard to even say

The same nightmare
That same visionbed - Copy
        of the very end.
The same horror
The same memories
         to comprehend.


Shock and disbelief
Second-hand news
First-hand pain.
        Taking my time
        Taking my sleep
        Taking me back again.

The same heartache
The same dream
         of once was.
The same nightmare
The same memories
        The same just because.

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