Change

Before light, my mother would wake me on school days. After the alarm wouldn’t manage to budge me from my coma, due to the evening of drugs and alcohol the night before, her persistent voice would fill my room. I recall the usual routine of sitting at the sofa with the candy dish that I used as an ashtray, while flicking my ashes from the … Continue reading Change

The Calamities In You

I don’t read what most have to say. Yesterday was a beautiful morning. There is a certain long stretch of road surrounded by the landscape of trees that I especially enjoy in the early morning, as the sun’s rays display nicely there. I have been taking the road for the last few months on my commute to work. It’s a peaceful beginning to the inevitable … Continue reading The Calamities In You

Backlash

If I had the choice, I’d never do it all over again. Living in the past. Sure, I’ve written about the importance of living in the present numerous times, and I’ve found that it takes a great amount of effort on one’s own part to achieve this way of thinking. Years ago I never would have thought it was even possible. My whole life revolved … Continue reading Backlash

Outside Of The Box Is Love

How sweet of them, to leave such valuable donations. Soiled, pizzle-stained mattress; sofa in part Vomit for the next baby to securely be seated in. How wonderful! A pillow with louse! The hearts of the generous–giving their trash for a good cause, and leaving the next heart broken. Continue reading Outside Of The Box Is Love

While Things Come And Go

Your needs–are they becoming? Is anything outside of your desire to be right a need, you self-righteous pig?! The man in the mirror, mirroring the scar. Those things of yesterday–of hours, no longer relevant–still destroying you and everything/everyone around you. Becoming.     Scapegoat! Filthy animal! You should have killed them while you had the chance! You could be living with the guilt… Oh wait, … Continue reading While Things Come And Go

In Unison

In my world, a calm approach is sometimes the wrong approach. I was thankful Wednesday for the humbling sting of events prior to my car breaking down. It sometimes seems like when it rains it pours, as the saying goes. Several setbacks were a subtle setup for Wednesday morning’s much needed walk in the fresh air. Before heading into work, I took a stroll around … Continue reading In Unison

Into The Day, And Night

Writing is a great outlet for my true identity. It took me a very, very long time to reach this current place of contentment, and I thank the ways of the past for getting me here–the nasty, destructive, dark and disastrous. Without the overcast, I never would have been able to find the glorious light outside of its thievery. Since writing and displaying my transparencies, … Continue reading Into The Day, And Night

Revisiting

An old writing of mine, revisited.   Collected Fragments Of My Time– August, 2018 The memories of my grandfather and his work shed. There was an addition off to the side of a one car garage that was made into his work area. The small space was a place where he frequently spent his time. As a young boy, I would venture out to watch … Continue reading Revisiting

Volatility

People bumping off of people never real time for themselves Thoughts consumed with what the other thinks defined by someone else     Competition in their nature a little more than the rest A thought to decide for themselves shot down by the next They go on believing they’ve won the race to find another mile around the bend Running ahead of the next to … Continue reading Volatility

Fell Off The Wagon…Again

I’ve been practicing an old habit in recent weeks. Habits. They form. After trying something initially, and unknown desire drives our diversely-structured brains to feed upon it. To continue. Some of them are beneficial, while others are not so good. In my particular case, a habit that I once held closely with a firm grip, slowly reared its destructive head within the last few weeks. … Continue reading Fell Off The Wagon…Again

Square Peg–Round Hole (Part 2 of 2)

When I say, “heart,” I suppose I mean the inner being of myself. The soul–the thing that is driving this flabby, muscly, bony body. The magic that keeps me alive, if you will. Truly, the whole God thing really tugged at me, causing great mental and physical distress. The whole experience became an obsession. I had to figure this stuff out. The thing is, I … Continue reading Square Peg–Round Hole (Part 2 of 2)

Square Peg–Round Hole (Part 1 of 2)

Before the world of a young child is illuminated by its own imagination, wonder, and all of the other blessings the new brings, the child usually has the opportunity to learn some basic fundamentals. Whether it be from a parent or guardian, most children will learn to crawl before walking under a watchful eye. As a little tyke begins to take interest, the mind unfolds … Continue reading Square Peg–Round Hole (Part 1 of 2)

Observing

How other people view us, really, isn’t relevant. It seems as though the last several years have brought a focus that wasn’t as prominent as it had been in years past. Popularity of social media, the lax commutations we have adapted, such as texting, tweeting and so on (anything one can identify as means), has really changed society in negative ways. With it all, a … Continue reading Observing

Beneath

The trees– greater than ourselves. Towering above us all, concerned with no one else. They take what they like– the sun and the moon. Hiding beauty of the heavens. Reaching deep into their room. Greedy is their nature. Robbing lesser one. Laughing at the weaker. Having all the fun.     The bird of grace and diligence took away the pride of the thundering tower … Continue reading Beneath

Where Darkness Lies

“I don’t understand the darkness” is a statement someone had made regarding my chosen style of writing. Throughout the past few years on WordPress, I have poured myself out through text. As a helpful tool I had used while evaluating my personal cognitive complexity, writing later evolved into a passion. I began to write of experiences, thoughts, my walk with God, as well as poems … Continue reading Where Darkness Lies

Ethic

Willingness to adhere to one’s own “norm” can sometimes lead to big trouble. I must say, the last few years have been a challenge within my personal life. In many aspects, I have learned to change. These aren’t subtle changes, as they had been a huge part of who I was as a person. As I share, keep in mind that these specific changes have … Continue reading Ethic

The Voice He Hears (Part 19)

The warmth comforted his vexation. He stood within the stall until the water ran cold. The day was a waste. He decided to move out to the back patio with the hope of grooming his anxieties with nature and fresh air. Mindfulness was a coping mechanism he’d learned about many years earlier. Stepping outside, inhaling simplicity–the smell of flowers nearby. The sounds from the birds … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 19)

The Voice He Hears (Part 18)

“Michael, do yo..” “NOT, NOW, MOM!” She pulled her head back away from the stairwell and stomped through the kitchen. He could hear her murmur coming from different ends of the house as she moved about. “Love you!” He then heard the door slam. As he listened to the car speeding away, he let out a long sigh. Nothing was real. He couldn’t come back … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 18)

The Voice He Hears (Part 17)

He compared. He compared the feelings he had towards his father to the ones he was now embracing. He lied in his sorrows with his young father in mind–the hell he lived. The magnitude of the devastation. Apprehensive, he rose. Mike had a seat on the end of the sofa. He was crazed. The dreams, the messengers, the messages–all of it was too much. He … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 17)

The Voice He Hears (Part 16)

The angel began to speak into Mike. He could hear the being, without words. Without a necessity to understand. It was showing Mike the small frames of his father’s life. The past; a young boy in an environment of desecration. The vision of his father being beaten and molested by a woman he called his mom. While her husband was away fighting a war, he … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 16)

The Voice He Hears (Part 15)

Michael, maybe ten, was in the street playing with a childhood friend. Anna was the blond with the sky blue eyes. He remembered well. They were the eyes that saw what his father would do to him, when she found them one summer day inside the dugout. It never left Mike’s memory. The recurring dream of the event would come to him throughout his years. … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 15)

The Voice He Hears (Part 14)

Like any seasoned drunk, he had to have a drink. Mike cracked open the bottle of Gin he’d been sitting on since June. His agitation, along with the familiar withdrawal, was relentlessly picking. Day turned to night, and the moon was rising above the treeline on the edge on the field behind the house. He poured the drinks quickly, and often. Mike ordered the pizza … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 14)

The Voice He Hears (Part 13)

He was watching the darkness turn to light outside. He’d been sitting at the window in the kitchen for hours, desperately trying to make sense of it all. Mr. McBride was gone. The beautiful visions of unexplained phenomena, followed by the terror of his nightmare. He couldn’t do anything but stare. Moving about, he took himself to the basement. Not sure of what time it … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 13)

The Voice He Hears (Part 12)

The heartbeat–his, yet, only in ambiance–muffled the oncoming carriers of torches. The flames breached the horizon as Mike felt the heat long before due. The darkness was now giving way to the subtle glow, but calefaction was intensifying. Mike observed the skin on his arms as they started to boil and bubble. He felt hell approaching. One wink. Michael was surrounded by skeletal horses driven … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 12)

The Voice He Hears (Part 11)

He was in the other world; the dreamscape. Manifesting before him, at close proximity, were short scenes of his life. Within the darkness, and as though the scenes were lighted by spotlight, the past began to appear. He was standing beside a little boy that was at the feet of his arguing parents. Although there was nothing audible, the fighting was evident. He just watched … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 11)

The Voice He Hears (Part 10)

How Mike could be seeing himself as a young man in the face of the old man was an anomaly, and the bizarre peripheral spinning only added to his astonishment. The light, and this time, a silhouette of what appeared to be an angelic creature came into sight. It was as if the light was an opening of some sort behind the man–as though the … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 10)

The Voice He Hears (Part 9)

“Well, Mike, I have been trying to get ahold of you for a while now.” He assumed that it must have been Mr. McBride weeks earlier knocking at his door. “Get ahold of me?” Mike was still in a state of intense bewilderment. The series of events involving this old man–a person who’d shown up in a dream before showing up in his reality, sitting … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 9)

The Voice He Hears (Part 8)

With a half-smile and an obvious response of confusion from Mike’s partial question, the old man uttered, “Hi, uh, I’m looking for Mike Sandersen. Are you Mike?” Mike was so confused by the whole thing–the man from his dream, now, standing at his door and asking for him. He was speechless, and the haze of the alcohol wasn’t helping the whole situation. “No,” Mike replied, … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 8)

The Voice He Hears (Part 7)

He actually enjoyed spending the time with his mother that morning. She had brewed a strong Colombian coffee, prepared blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs, just for him. His favorites. They talked about the one time dad had actually been nice when he hugged them both and said that he loved them, right after his mother had passed. It was a non-existent phrase from his mouth, … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 7)

The Voice He Hears (Part 6)

He creased his eyes and played with the sunlight as it danced within his lashes and watery vision. His thought of an angelic apparition composed of sunlight was quickly passed off. He didn’t believe in angels, anyhow. Angels–the things he once believed were possible–were simply from another time in his life, back when his mom and dad were still a thing. Back when his childhood … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 6)

The Voice He Hears (Part 5)

The sound of his own voice was beginning to irritate him, let alone those of the few that he would hear from. Jobless, lazy as all get out and so full of lame excuses, left unlimited time for him to stew in his misery. The deep-seated resentment of a questionable origin was now his identity, unbeknownst to him. The seasons came and went. His mother … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 5)

The Voice He Hears (Part 4)

He was not the man, or in his mind, the boy he once had been. He was no longer the company everyone loved to be around–the happy-go-lucky, sarcastic prick that had a heart for the outcast. The one people would talk to about their problems, knowing firsthand that he would give them straight feedback. Genuine, honest words. He had no idea where he now stood. … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 4)

The Voice He Hears (Part 3)

But, the knock at the door returned. The unknown visitor, relentlessly, beat at that door. Still, by no means, was he willing to get up to answer it. The beating would continue throughout the night — in his dreams. In the smolder of his chain smoking when the eyes wouldn’t stay shut. A single knock, from a possible friend, came and went on the August … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 3)

The Voice He Hears (Part 2)

They comfort him, all of these faithful friends. The threads of nonsense. The musical talents he wishes he could greet at the end of their sessions. The lukewarm Rum. With each day, while tucked away, he binds to the melancholy. A glimmer of hope knocked on his door on an August morning, but he didn’t answer. It was too much like work, peeling himself off … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 2)

The Voice He Hears (Part 1)

Running away. That’s what he’d always been good at. Ever since he was boy, it was a necessity, finding those places to run to. A thick book of fantasy, the bottle of Rum, or, perhaps, the twisted perversions most dare to mention. All of the lies he would tell himself. The escape artist, basking in the light of seclusion and unreasonable reason. Flash-forward to the … Continue reading The Voice He Hears (Part 1)

Hinder House

Locked away, the man sat with only his thoughts. He ate from the cans he’d packed away, counting down–each bite, each number from the label. The water he’d rationed spilled to the floor in his fit of anger. A candle–dimming, much like his soul–burned away in the corner of his space…. Alone. He spoke to the angels that would visit him. They spoke in ways … Continue reading Hinder House

To The Followers

The first thoughts (as the coffee welcomes me) are the focus of my morning writings. It is the way that each day begins which encourages me to peck away at these keys. If I’m exhausted from the previous day of labors, I usually spell it out through the frustrated choice of word. If I’m cool, you get cool. If I’m amazed by His craft, you … Continue reading To The Followers

Lord

BOLD is the word that we use. Bold is the look that have upon our face as we accuse. BOLD is the finger of contempt. Bold is the authority that we claim to hold in our lordly attempt. BOLD is thinking we have the right. Bold is the correction we sternly give to their internal fight. BOLD is not lowly. Bold is the silent killer, … Continue reading Lord

Our Rivers

The bleeding heart: never void of the coming and going. Taking in–thrusting forward. The life-blood faithfully jaunts, replenishing; renewing. A carrier of our drive; a river of nourishing fare. Vital. Not critical. Tolerant. Here we are: bias and unfair… Nothing like the blood that we all share; unlike the blood sent abroad by the bleeding heart. Continue reading Our Rivers

NOOOO!!!!

Please, add some depression to our depression! By all means, make the voice of the media your new obsession! Open your mouth as quickly as they! Turn off your own thoughts and listen to what they say! Think on their fearmongering words while running for cover! Suffer even more as the anxieties hover! Tell myself and others so we, too, are distraught! Destroy the peace … Continue reading NOOOO!!!!

The Feed

Fear is waiting in the shadows, and it patiently watches you. It takes its seat a few chairs down. You go on without a clue. Closely, it observes your routine. It studies your schedule. It has an endless time to plan ahead, never losing its cool. It uses tools that you feed upon, like the devices you willingly watch. It uses the writings upon your … Continue reading The Feed

Trying To Forget

Battling the “ups and downs” of this life of mine can sometimes be an all out war. When the mood disorder that I’ve always had trouble balancing rears its ugly head–pulling in every direction, with the corruption of its character having the upper hand, I sometimes become engulfed within a funk with no real reasoning behind it. I’ll then attempt to find “reasons” for the … Continue reading Trying To Forget

I’ve Always Been My Own Hero. I Had No Choice.

Surfing through a few writings this morning, and after reading the specific focus of one writer proclaiming that his dad was his “hero” while growing up, it occurred to me: I had no heroes. One can look at the word in a number of ways. In this instance, the guy was obviously talking about his father being the role model that he looked up to … Continue reading I’ve Always Been My Own Hero. I Had No Choice.

A Little Insight…

There has been a running focal point of frustration within the writings that I choose to post, and I thought I would take the opportunity to explain why this morning. I’ve been upset with the “church” experience, many times over. Yes, one can tell me the usual, “No one is perfect.”, or the standard, “You must go to church. God commands it!” Although I agree … Continue reading A Little Insight…

Good Teacher

If God is love, then why do they judge? If they are of Him, then why the unyielding grudge? Beaten with verses–the tattered man’s already in pain. They don’t understand why men of God are so vain. Love them with discernment, but is it this way? Do they show them His love with the words that they say?   The hurt man needs Jesus, not … Continue reading Good Teacher

Late

Foolishly, we wait. Along the roadside of our expectations, we wait for someone to rescue us from our despondency. We wait for the new day to bring the same somethings that have been available to us all along. We wait for a change, to satisfy, with the hope of it staying for more than the familiar sojourn. We wait there, at the shoulder of our … Continue reading Late

Prophet Watch…?

I continuously read a lot of posts about the God of Christianity, and it continues to cause me to be uncomfortable, at times. So many times I ask myself the question: “How do they know?” I understand we can draw our conclusions from what we read in the Bible, and that some have the revelation of Holy Spirit in their interpretation (SOME), but seriously… Why … Continue reading Prophet Watch…?

Modeling for Church

They dress up for occasion. They decorate their hearts. Ugly souls full of evil playing their parts.   Mockers and scoffers. Holders of contempt. Perfect reasons to believe that they are exempt. Hateful love. A word of insight. Leaving those already broken with strengthening plight. Eyes of judgment. Tongue of arrogance. Pity the fool with intelligence. Christ is your Savior. IS HE MINE??? Tell me … Continue reading Modeling for Church