menticanic

a racing mind
can’t excelerate
without a course
to ride on.

the oil spots
leak down
through
your veins

pollute and
inflame
the muscles
with stress.

the cars
must be
put away
sometime.

clear the roads,
wash the
state of them.

sit in
the absence,
and breathe.

Tweet

Finding a
tiny
feather
on the
sidewalk

does not
mean you
can grab it.

do not
try to
nail it down
beneath claws;

the wind will
pick it up
and fly it
away

[do not try
to make
nest of it]

it may look
like a part
of you,

but it is
not you,
or yours.

it belonged
to another
bird-

-now
nothing
at all.

[attached
never
really
means
ownership]

probably
did not
all along.

Focus

Freight’d It’s Over

I saw you
and felt
nothing.

if I was
a tunnel,

you used
to be the
train.

whenever
I’d hear
you coming

I’d brace
myself for
impending
arrival.

you’d roll
through me;
unstoppable
force.

i’d feel
every inch
of me

shake and
shudder

as you
ran through
my bones.

but you
left

long ago,
now.

and though
you used
to take
My route

regularly
[for quite
some time]

now all
that’s left
is the
distant
whistle

of your
brisk
presence.

ten: daily prompt

“There is a saying that imbalanced Pitta individuals don’t go to hell; they simply create it wherever they go!”

The
Ayurveda
Website
Says a
10 P.M.
Bedtime
Is healthiest
For my
pitta-ridden
insides.

Thank
Eastern
Medicine
Livers&Guts
Don’t
Tell time.

daily prompts, inspiration, postaday, writing, Post Ideas

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2017/01/25/ten/

Ten

#DiscoverWP

I am unwell.Feast your eyes, herein lies a downward descent into the workings of a manic mind.

mania,sanity,postaday,reflections,paranoia,alcoholism,anxiety,DiscoverWP,depression,processing,rape,discover,drinking,firstpost,newhere,disclosure,coping,writing,self-care,thoughts,trauma

https://thighhighsocksgoldylocks.wordpress.com/2017/01/25/first-blog-post/

settling in white america

All across
White
Middle america
There are
the fathers

There they are
tucked away
In their garages

Hiding in their
Spaces
Lined with plywood

Hiding in their
Spaces
Armed with power tools

What can I build?
to keep occupied

Keep from thinking?

Keep from
Reflecting?
on the
Current boredom
my life

They sulk in their garages
Escaping their wives

The women they
Choose to die with

She makes his meals
She excuses him

She has her space
Perhaps,
A sewing room,
A knitting corner,
The kitchen

She makes for him
For the family

If only
she could fill
Or cover up
All this empty

Then
they
would be happy?
Together?

Decades of sitting parallel
in separate chairs

Fill the space
with
tiny versions
of themselves

Follow all the rules

Wheel of fortune
During dinner time

Dream of fortunes

“Life would be
so much better
if we only
won the lottery”

We’d have enough money
To have more spaces
Big big spaces

We’d fill them
With things
To ignore each other

To fill
In between
the span
Of a settled life

#discoverWP