loridaily

notes from the heart

Archive for darkness

Words

words

sharing thoughts

the one thing we share

the one thing

that roots

sprouts

revels

thrives

binds us

sustains us

the one thing

you are withholding

so divisive

separated

severed

retreated

withered

torn asunder   

with no connection

the only thing we shared

no sharing

words

Lonely Bard

Her heart
beats in time
to funereal drums

The pyre of her love
burns
quiet ritual
of loss
out to sea
again

How many
strains of lamentations
will she write
in one lifetime
words
spill like tears
alkaline white
drying in splotches

In their grief
she listened
now in hers
she sees their
backs

The lonely bard
dips her pen
and finds
her own
solace

Night’s Passage

Rain burst through my dreams
with it’s insistent shushing
I tried to quiet my head
as I laid in my restless bed
but the bedsheets drip with twisted panic
circus ride, this tide that rips me out to sea

Hurl me stormy swells
to the home for which I yearn
where arms around me tight
and sighs in the dark cold night
blanket me securely in my moorings
where feet, with dog’s heat find their anchor

Peace

Icy lips
hushed and puckered
kiss the bleak sky goodnight

Stillness shines upon cheeks
like white rose petals on gossamer skin

Frosted eyelashes
weighed down from the year’s collected worry
now rest easy

Silence collects
blanketed in rows like
stars upon angel wings

Nature curls up
fetal in repose
holding us in chrystaline arms
our shared secrets
whispered

Withdrawal

Injected under my skin the drugs of your passion bring vivid mind blown colors.

Hi flying junky, my arms are riddled with needle marks.

Another and another fix, each delivery not enough.

My greedy body lusts for your scent.

Cut off from your heroin love I am bent over and vomiting in pain.

No food nor drink will stay down my wretched throat.

I was dancing in ecstasy,

now I’m crawling with the roaches eating dirt and coughing up blood.

All my power and all my money was blown on my addiction.

The streets are lined with hollowed out people to whom my hands are outstretched and begging.

I am a wasted hull of a woman without my fix.

My life runs out and flows in sticky pools to the gutter.

Every place I go is scarred by your tracks.

Everyone I meet sees your mask on my face.

Every song I hear is an epitaph for your love.

I shake you and try to get you to answer until my throat is parched and swollen from screaming.

Your pillow is cold in my arms.

My hands are bruised from punching the walls of the dumpster where I crouch.

Let me rot in this filth.

My soul is lifeless and sinks down into the garbage.

Death would ease my suffering now.

I will lay here in this lonely hole with gnawing cravings like the addict that I am:

Begging for just one more taste of you.

Deception

Deception is a weapon
that slices tender feelings
before they take root

Hope runs like frightened children
hiding with hands over eyes
until deception has taken its violating toll

Like a thief, deception steals
the innocent ones
and replaces them with wretches

Like a demon, deception burns
its scars deeply in long clever strokes
that heal hideously

The collected victims of deception
share their stories
and prepare for the next wave of lies
like the coming storm.

 

Dancing With the Darkness

I don’t want this spell to wear off.  There is a certain melancholy that is surrounding me, permeating me, comforting me.

I want to become one with that feeling.  I want to fully embrace that darkness and dance with it, to allow it to sing with it’s scratchy voice, and limp free from impairment.

Impairment…Limp free from impairment…to stagger and stumble openly.  Feel the pain inside.  Feel it sting and bite and burn.  Feel it moan and expand.  Feel it pound.  Feel it leak into the depths.  Feel the lightness and hollowness both pounding and lingering.

That pain…good old friend.  Olde Fiendes, I know you.  I remember your dark sulking presence.  How long have you kept still; kept your dusty fiendish mouth so close to me that I could only feel your breath.  Waiting without sound until I am…so…close to you…JUST WAITING.  I can smell your dark sullen breath, the stech of horror and sickness.  Cold and palpable…yet you are not close enough still.  Why do you resist me?  Why do you torment me and tempt me and not take me?  You quiet sulking friend…dance with me!

Seize me and in your awkward grip we will pulse and bend.  It’s with hideous delight that I will share this mixed-meter volatile dance with you.  You lead, then I will lead.  We will both fall, and slink in a furious frenzy.

I am exhilarated and hopeful.  I am flying on stealth wings soaring over the mountain tops.  I am victorious.  I am pure elation.  I can scream–I can fly–I can’t be stopped!

Sometimes our dance evaporates.  Strange and still.  Broken, floating silently on wings that take us over desolate land…over wreckage…over empty death.  Sadness is permanently in my breast, and my countenance is dark and brooding.  I am alone and we float aimlessly.  Updraft, downdraft, empty circles over empty desert…over empty streets…through empty hearts…into empty eyes…Only wind whistling a tedious meandering melody through your black wings…empty hollow deafening silence.  You are there and you are not there.

Suddenly, again, we are shaken by jagged ripping movements and meaningless spasms of shifting and jerking.  Oh you are such a surprise!  Such a thrill!    There is no end to the torture and panic flowing from your arms.  This is our dance of pain.  We relish it’s terrible intoxicating flavor.  Hold me close, I don’t want to miss a step.  Sudden grief.  My blood is shooting through scarlet sprays of horror and crimson shrieks of insanity.  My worst nightmare of painful rage bursts from my chest and drenches the universe with garish quarelling blood.

I want to embrace all of the madness.  I want to express the humanity of it in some language.  Am I too dim witted to use music or dance or art?  Am I stuck with this dark brooding soul and no way to share the velvet blackness of it with anyone?  Puffy brooding sadness that is too good to waste…Dark slippery cold madness that is too horrible to express… too delicious to pass up…

I don’t want tears… I don’t want screams.  I don’t want joy.  I only want you my sick, tired, lonely, sullen, silent, sad friend.  Stay with me and we’ll dance a little while more…into the night.

Benediction~mo saorsa

My heart is flat, empty and desolate.  Here I stand at the edge of this world.
The wind is scouring my legs.
Gravel cuts it’s way into my skin, but I can’t feel it.
My ears are thundering with the sound of this horrible wind.
I wish it would drown out my pain.
I wish it would rip me off my perch and throw me down onto the rocks,
so I wouldn’t have to. 

Slicing blades clattering together articulate the air where the flashing eyes of stricken souls engage.
Sweat and the stench of blood is in this place.
Pressing from every direction are more and more swords and more and more cries. 

So many words thrown at each other…  So many painful words… I am sick to death of this feeling.
My every word, my every step, my every breath is one towards a path of further ruin.
Doubt eats at me like a vulture.  It rips at my entrails, pulling me out on this rocky precipice,
unraveling me in spiral loops of twisted humiliation I see my destiny.
The jagged rocks below are festooned with crashing waves…
bed ruffles calling me to my rest. 

Horse hooves come bounding as animals scream out in terror.
Battle cries and men’s horrible shrieks sear my spirit.
My blood stained hands grip at my sword with numb exhaustion.
My arms are burning with fatigue as I strain to use my last ounce of strength.
Metal on metal I thrust concussive blows against my demons.

Broken promises, deceit, betrayal…None of that matters anymore.
Tears, sobbing, mourning…all a water scene down below me now.
Rip out my eyes you harbinger of death that I may not see my destiny!
Pluck out my desolate heart that I may not sense my self hatred!  Better to fly for a brief moment…  

…My relief comes
like the warriors o’er the hill with painted stern faces,
and legions of swords drawn for the final battle.
My relief comes
as the horsemen devour the peat.
My relief comes
as the last of my strength flows out of my tears and streaks my face scarlet.

Silence.  The wind is carrying me.  The world is spinning blue green and white.
Deathly quiet for one eternal moment of weightless flight…
No pain.  No torture.  No guilt.  No grief.  No terror.

My hands too aching and weak to continue let go and I see my gore stained weapon fly into the air in slow motion.  Three warriors are upon men; men with swift intent.
The first strikes me.
A horrible jolt as my guts are torn by a slicing blow.
I feel numbing pain as I am torn apart.
My head is hit hard and wrenches to the left with the power of another horrendous blunt beating, mercifully strong.  My body is down and wracked by their
Holy claims against my crimes.
A final chop frees my spirit…
Suddenly a high pitched sound floods my ears.  I feel warm liquid cascading down my face.
My life flows into the sea filling it with my black putrid guilt.

 Purify, purify.  My sins will be rinsed in this icy green abyss.  The rocks are my witnesses as they stand by.
Swords in their hilts, they tower o’er my broken body laid out.
Their sentence has cut into my pink flesh like a judgment.
Angels voices float in the mist.  I can hear them singing.
My smile is filled with a salty benediction
as the sea baptizes me free.