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Creative Writing

I saw you for the first time in nearly a year,

It was bittersweet, as most moments

Have been since the clock struck midnight,

Sealing the fate of the world indefinitely.

I couldn’t see your smile, but your eyes

Sparked a fire in my heart as of old.

Your warmth from six feet away,

Could set ablaze even the iciest soul.

It took everything in me to not close the gap,

to be the irresponsible one for once.

For so long I hid behind that veil of virtue,

Because I was terrified,

Of what might lay beyond the truth.

And yet here we are, in limbo,

Waiting for the sirens to die down,

And the world to speed up again.

For something…

If it must hurt, let it be quick.

And if it finds our hearts entwined,

let us not waste a moment.

Yet here we are, six feet apart,

So close to the answers,

Yet insufferably far.

Why do you stay away for so long,

when you know the warmth of my sand

And the colors I can paint the sky for you,

Lay just beyond the mountains?

Run to me, child, when you feel weak,

run to me when the world isn’t what you seek.

Don’t hesitate to drink me in, I have enough to give.

If your heart grows weary, I will help it live,

with the sound of waves lapping the shore,

the cool mist that kiss your cheeks at dawn,

And the gentle breeze easing you along.

Don’t let yourself get frozen in a moment,

Or life will be one long, and painful lament.

You had me feeling young again today.

Every ache in my bones seemed to forget

That the sun had risen three hours ago.

I felt lighter on my feet,

The laughter on my lips tasted sweet.

With every word you seem to heal

Every nerve that was screaming.

But how long can this last?

Are you here to stay?

Will you leave if I get too close?

Or is this something worth holding?

When was the last time you relied on five milligrams of anything?

It is such a seemingly insignificant amount,

That I go crazy trying to figure out

Why it refuses to let me move on.

Every time we try something new,

Its the same old story,

No appetite, joints are screaming.

The mornings are the worst,

Begging for the evening

Begging for the reason why.

Back in the ER, fill me up with more.

Ask me all the same questions,

No, I’m not from a broken home,

I just got a little booboo,

nothing you can’t fix.

As long as you have prednisone.

Back to where I started, at least, so it seems.

Riding that roller coaster once again.

The ups and downs come on like a sickness

Sometimes slow, others, it can be vicious.

At times I try to see it as a trial,

Something that can be beat.

A game that I can win without cheats

then I wake up in the morning in a daze,

Searching for the bottle through morning haze,

Take out that five milligrams and swallow,

Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.

For anyone that is struggling with chronic illness, you are not alone. And it gets better. It is slow, and some days you might feel exactly like this poem, but it gets better. As you learn to adapt and find new ways to enjoy the things you used to. Don’t let the bumps in the road take you out. Hang in there ūüôā

She walks among us, taking sips of the sweet breeze,

savoring the aromas of the meadow brushing her knees

As she wanders from grassy plain to a winter roost 

Trying to find the right soil before she takes root.

It isn’t a matter of riches or splendor that beg her to seek

A home where she can rest if she ever grows weak,

A place she can feel as free as the birds above

where there is nothing but unconditional love.

As she was born to be among the flowering cherry trees,

the dandelions, the ferns and the sweetest honeybees,

her soul begs to dance with the flowers as they sway,

to glide with the wind, every which way.

Her destiny is where she ends up with the brightest smile,

where there is no doubt it was worth her while.

If we tried to put a price on happiness

the invoice would always total: madness.

It may feel delightful at first,

Eliciting a reaction we rehearsed

in front of our gilded mirrors,

for a fleeting glimpse.

All the while, we try to fill the hole,

with excess feigning success,

always chasing humility with vanity.

We rarely catch it in time;

our downfall.

The ledge from which we tumble

raised by our own pedestal

Where we lay our riches,

was all along crumbling beneath,

waiting for that fateful step,

when all falls through.

Lately the only true peace I have known

is what I feel when I’m driving alone

with the moon gleaming like a diamond

In a dark sky as the world slows down.

In that moment is where I exist,

never lost or thought to resist,

I simply drive as I wave goodbye

to the tumult of the day,

praying that tomorrow,

humanity might find its way

To a place where we all find that peace

where love conquers hate.

but hoping for it doesn’t help

when the only way is change.

Little yellow bottle sitting on the windowsill,
asking if I’m ready for my little white pill.
Will it be just one today, or two or three?
If I had a say in things it’d already be empty.
Yet I try to be good in spite of the pain,
Not worry about what’s coursing through my withered veins
that can barely rise to the occasion
When it comes time to get filled up again.
“It’s the best option we have” they say,
while I grin and utter “I’m okay”.
It’s my only option,
So I guess I’ll keep walking this way.

I was wandering in a war-field when it happened,

Bleary eyed and alone, stumbling over debris,

Curious as to why the canons of my ramparts ceased.

The once lush green landscape I cherished, now blackened;

deep gashes and fallen oaks lay in splintered heaps.

Yet in spite of all that remained in utter disrepair,

all that seemed disastrous and rife with despair,

A reincarnation of Athena arose from afar

ascending a hill to the East like a phoenix

Rising unscathed from the ashes around her.

Her hair caught in the breeze and streamed

like dark chestnut flames setting the air on fire;

each tendril struck the ether like flint upon stone.

And the deep brown in her almond eyes alighted

Like twin beacons of hope to the lost and the stranded;

They drew me in without effort, I found it futile to resist.

______

At first it was blinding, her inimitable light,

the ethereal gleam cast by the setting sun

Reflected¬†like Archimedes’ fire from her armor,

A burnished silver suit with ornate engravings

flowing like intricate streams of gold from head to toe,

Forcing my eyes to adjust to her otherworldly glow.

______

She rode atop a white stallion with a red bridle,

Studded with sapphire stones and polished silver rivets,

its silken mane flowed like the finest threads

Spun by the nimblest hands of Olympia’s best.

The rider then surveyed the ashen wastes strewn

About her by the gnarled hands of the misled,

yet she showed no sign of reluctance, no urge to flee

instead, she called across the field, beckoning

With an outstretched hand, and a beaming smile.

______

Swiftly it shattered my inhibitions, that simple flash of teeth.

And as I grew closer, a warmth began to bloom within my chest,

At first like a candle trying to illuminate a vast and empty room,

slowly growing into a vibrant torch alighting every corner.

I felt my body relax as I was pulled closer toward the hill,

Enveloped in a tender warmth this body had never know before.

My eyes grew heavy and before I arrived, they had all but closed

allowing myself to fall under her spell, with her hand now upon my head,

and a whisper in my ear that “destruction never revives the dead;

hear me now, you cannot let the dark times rule your kingdom

For the sun does not shine on a mind with closed doors.

Let the light filter through, tear down those towering walls

And allow your soul to live free of such poisonous pride.”

______

 When her hand raised slowly from my head, my eyes opened;

the world had regained its color, the ancient oaks now stood tall

The upturned earth now settled into grassy plains,

And the songbirds were filling the air with their avian twang.

The divots and the shrapnel embedded in my walls disappeared.

And though the rider had vanished, her influence remained.

This is a bit of a random story for me to post here, but with the way I’m feeling, this hit me where it counts and I hope it produces a little bit of a good feeling in everyone who takes some time to read it.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†Going to work this morning, eagerly listening as Sinatra worked his way into my head, trying to knead out the knots of consternation with his lofty airs. But today he was just falling short and traffic wasn’t doing much to ease the mood.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† Along the road there was a construction crew doing work on the center divider that separates the east and west-bound lanes at an intersection where a BART railway crosses the road. The sky was dark and grey, the breeze blew frigid daggers at your cheeks, and the sun wasn’t out to warm the laborers who probably just wanted a hot cup of coffee and an hour more in their own beds. And with it being rush hour their work was halted every time a group of cars trooped by because of how small the divider was and they had yet to set up a barrier.

¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† As it was my turn to drive by, I looked at every one of them standing on the divider, each one grimacing, perhaps at the work they had ahead of them or something else troubling their minds. Their shoulders were slumped, eyes diverted elsewhere, some took a seat on the railing to wait out the passing autos; then I got to the final one in the row. She stood tall with her arms crossed and perched atop a spade that she drove into the loamy earth of the island divider. She showed no signs of reluctance to do the job at hand, no annoyance at the flood of cars making her job more difficult. Instead she smiled wide and directly at each passing car. I don’t know why she was smiling of course; it could have been for anything, or nothing at all. But I could feel the warmth it radiated in the moment, I could feel it seep through my driver’s side window and envelope me with the comfort of a thousand tender embraces and as I passed I couldn’t help but grin like a fool because no matter how terrible things get, no matter how tired you may be of a situation, there is always a silver lining out there. And although it may seem like a small thing to many, for me it was something I had to see, and was glad to see this morning.

Best wishes,

-Your Humble Author