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Posts Tagged ‘recovery’

Darkness of the moon

April 7, 2012 4 comments


in the darkness of the moon

I saw the edge of
the double-sided sword.

It’s edge shinning and sharp

breathless, fright had taken hold
of my heart.

Blinding all compassion –
giving way to a
loud heartbeat.

Recoiled into the safety
of my deadbolt,
fear conquered love
last night.

Sunrise gifts a new day
a new way
allowing love to conquer fear.


☮TheMsLvh © 2012

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California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

Beyond

March 31, 2012 39 comments

Beyond
I traveled the edge
into your darkness
where only strength
of love would dare roam

Compassion – my guide
Empathy – my desire
to glimpse through
your stained blue eyes

and see what you have seen
and feel what you have felt
and cried when you have bled

Your lingering visions
frightening to the core
adhering to old
melancholy etchings
of aged distant time

I know…I know what it is
to be alone

Yet, know this truth, my love
loosen away the empty cold

Cast aside those blackened nights
remove all stones, clear the path
your sunrise has begun

I promise


☮TheMsLvh © 2012

Photo Permission by Gary Hart

Submitted to d’Verse 

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California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

Awake in Nightmares – Sonnet

September 10, 2011 31 comments
 
There’s no one in the control room;
directing any flame of light.
Dark shadows ready to consume;
the mindless empty of the flight.
Unable to escape the doom –
foreboding thoughts tied up in fright.
Old premonitions come alive –
alerting mind’s eye to survive.
 
Exotic faces lay in wait,
beyond the sound of voiceless screams –
releasing shivers down the spine.
Deep crevices in eyes dilate;
erasing lines from truth or dreams –
caught in the spiral of decline.
 
These are vibrations cursed in hate,
that rupture ears allowing streams
of bloody red to desecrate;
and split what is real at the seams.
Awake within the nightmare’s gate
unleashing fears of wild extremes.

 

Never Forget!

 
☮TheMsLvh © 2011
Image: Courtesy of Google Image

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California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

Paranoia – Sestina

August 26, 2011 68 comments

 

 
Reflections show a shattered withered life,
while peering through suspicious sleepless tears.
Dark hopes of white lines chase false fears –
relieving pains the mornings always give.
Nonchalant lies brings forth abandoned trust –
confusing love, so run fast as you can.
 
Hands trembling, unable to pop a beer can;
aware this has become part of that life.
Internal voices shouting words to trust –
imagined visions haunt spent salty tears.
Neglecting life for thrills the sharp points give,
forgetting all those secret doubts and fears.
 
Another day presents recurring fears;
play trickery on you because they can.
Insanely living – nothing seems to give. 
Surreal surprise to your short precious life;
not hearing pleas from loved one’s painful tears,
’cause there is no one you would ever trust.
 
Saliva aliens hold you in trust –
to scare away unwanted mental fears;
which breaks you down and brings forth screaming tears.
Are you aware the only one who can
save you from paranoid unnerving life:
do you know any one whose love would give?
 
There comes a time that something has to give,
perhaps your inability to trust.
You see small men in trees critique your life,
awake the darkest nightmares of your fears.
Go ahead, do all the white lines you can –
burn mucus raw – enough to bring on tears.
 
Disjointed twisted thoughts allow dry tears  
to flow,  deflect the sympathy I give.-
Detox the brain – but ponder if you can;
which voice in your head do you truly trust?
Sweat dripping off your brow – all due to fears,
encroaching your space, a disrupted life.
 
Your paranoia tears can darken life.
Give time a chance to heal invented fears;
if you can, change your life, believe in trust.
 
 
☮TheMsLvh © 2011
 submitted to d’Verse – Poets United
painting by MariaBurd
 For A. & M.
 

Sestinas are a poetic tour-de-force which takes skill to create and a subtle ear for the sound of language to keep from seeming contrived or stilted.The sestina repeats the initial six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, and then ends in a three-line envoi. The lines may be of any length, though traditionally a sestina is set in iambic pentameter.

1. ABCDEF
2. FAEBDC
3. CFDABE
4. ECBFAD
5. DEACFB
6. BDFECA
7. (envoi) ECA or ACE

The envoi, sometimes known as the tornada, must also include the remaining three end-words, BDF, in the course of the three lines so that all six recurring words appear in the final three lines. In place of a rhyme scheme, the sestina relies on end-word repetition to effect a sort of rhyme.

This information was found at Poets.org
 

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California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

Setting Sun

August 8, 2011 36 comments

   This was inspired by watching the damage caused by hard drugs. The rise of drug use in my area has stolen many young lives recently. Perhaps you also  have witnessed this on your local news. Without insurance of their own or parents, kids are being lost.  There are little to no recourses for these kids when they do cry for help. Everyone cannot afford Betty Ford or Malibu in U.S.A.  Prison might be their only survival, but then, prisons are over-filled,  full of nasty drugs as well.

SETTING SUN

Each morning’s painful breath you took,
your body screamed –
addiction gleamed.
Sharp points and rusty spoons; you cook.
 
To rid the touch of crawling skin,
hot needle prick –
perhaps get sick.
Warm rush cements the deadly sin.
 
A long exhale – all worries drain;
erase torment,
without lament.
Your precious scars walk deep in vein.
 
As pain subsides from tender soul,
the prophets cry –
to watch you fly.
The needle swept you in a hole.
 
First glimpse of sun ignites the crave,
as pain returns –
the stomach churns.
Ignoring death’s note etched on grave.
 
Collapsing veins of rivers gone,
in search for new –
within eye’s view.
Dead lines depict a lifestyle drawn.
 
Sad eyes with black holes blindly stray,
to be so lost –
at such a cost.
Their struggle sickens by the day.
 
The needle and the damage done,
Neil Young once wrote –
a famous quote:
“A junkie’s like a setting sun.”
 
_TheMsLvh   © 2011
Image source: The Grantham Journal

Creative Commons License
California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

Trail of Discovery

May 23, 2011 4 comments

Trail of Discovery

Every tree in the forest
is part of the scenery
Branches stretching out
white flakes in its greenery.

Snow weighs unbearable
on limbs of gnarled wood
Shaking it off , suddenly crashing
an avalanche where I stood.

Snowflakes dance like feathers in a breeze
silence broken as they landed with ease
Marred the virginity of this chilling freeze
were tracks of rabbits amongst the trees.

Along with mine on this trail of discovery
foraging a path for a broken heart’s recovery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-TheMsLvh   © copyright 5-17-11   *revised 6-6-11

Image source unknown

Mother’s Day: Of Course You Would Call

May 9, 2011 6 comments

So guarded, I answered the phone
as it was mother’s special day
not yet a word since he had flown
did that incident made him grow?
all was well when he threw that stone
deciding to leave me alone
with gnarly cut I could not stop
the bleeding, like a butcher’s chop.

Hesitating, I said hello
heart pounding fast, skipping a beat
air left the room, so hard to breath
asked,” On this fine day, how are you?”
answered, “Thank you, I’m fine indeed.”
knowing you, I would not concede
and ever admit to the bleed
nor would I reduce to anger
I knew that it would only feed.

Room closed in, dark edge in my eyes
straining lungs begging for some life
I listened to his hopeful lies
with his goal to be wanted back in
manipulate with skillful knife
a skill he owns, honed on my soul
true rebellion his only goal.

But of course, I knew he would call
so friendly on that mother’s day
when hearts reminiscing the pain
vulnerable voice, strong though I stay
he spoke announcing his campaign
testing the waters under bridge.

Wild racing thoughts;  yet I constrain
nor did I ask him to explain.

-TheMsLvh 5-8-11 © 2011

*oh, the memories!*

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California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License

 
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