The moving from one
thing to another is
hardly cause for celebration
As the caterpillar moves
away from itself and
into something new and
as the summer gives
way to fall and
as the wood turns
to ash its important
to remember that what
once was still is
Still is is all
that we ever have
for everything now was
borne from something else
previously something else borne
from something else borrowed
broken or bruised we
all are the result
of what came before
Month: April 2023
Raindrops
When it rains here
I’m reminded of the
broken hearts in Heaven
Each raindrop that lands
on my dry sleeve
makes me solemnly remember
all the precious souls
that meant so much
to me passing far
far too soon and
each raindrop signifies to
me the number of
times that I forgot
to admit to myself
and to them that
I did love them
Maybe one day rain
will just be rain
not sorrow from above
BirdWatching
I sit in my
room and watch the
cars go by so
many cars so many
many many cars all
going somewhere else than
besides here and I
feel like a bird
sitting on a wire
wondering that there must
be worms somewhere and
maybe way over there
wherever they’re all going
DownIWentUpICame
There is a point
during oppression when the
brain flips this switch
occurs only in survivors
and never in those
who relinquish their autonomy
to their now accepted
newly elected brutal tyrants
The mind shatters sending
shards of itself to
the far reaches of
the universe in an
attempt to find a
hospitable home a place
where it can rest
When my mind flipped
it turned to the
planet of Humor orbiting
a far off star
called Incomprehensible and I
allowed myself the luxury
of a tidbit of
insanity because I knew
that the reality in
which I found myself
was so far beyond
So I dipped my
toe into the detachment
pool then slowly began
to wade having tied
a rope about myself
mooring me to sanity
from which I could
follow to pull myself
free once this torment
was over like a
bad psychedelic trip down
Alice’s own rabbit hole
I can only now
recall this dark adventure
having finally at last
climbed my highest peak
free from the clouds
and now feeling sun
NowAfterThat
I really think that
I died in Charlotte
a part of me
anyway I lived amongst
bedbugs and around rodents
my food was stolen
my clothes never washed
Everything that I held
important was slowly and
systematically chipped away like
a toddler to a
brick wall and with
each passing day I
felt the bricks of
myself squeeze and fall
tighter together but never
giving way until one
day I pulled what
was left of myself
up declaring no more
With what was left
of the fumes of
hope and with nothing
but the will that
anything would be better
I boarded a plane
and flew to dreamland
But this dreamland in
which I now live
is no dream in
fact it’s my awakening
from the nightmare that
I had lived before
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 