Hump Day Poem – The Nothing

Powerful poem of hope in the midst of despair
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Morpethroad

Cylindrical Forest

I am the nothing

Today I hover over the abyss.

I’m not going to fall in

But feel safe and comfortable.

When you are nothing

You can say and do anything

Its doesn’t matter

No one is listening

No one is watching.

No one notices you

Lingering in dangerous places.

You have things to say,

Things to do, but nothing comes out

Nothing gets done.

You find yourself

Sitting, thinking, your mind in circles

And it doesn’t matter

For there’s no one to care.

You wallow in your own mire

Knowing you’re where you deserve.

The flailing goes unabated

Until

A voice asks if you are ok.

With scepticism you hear platitudes.

The voice sits with you

Talks of things

Tells you their story.

Engaged, you open slightly

You step back

The voice is a person.

You look down and discover

Empathy and understanding

Holding your hand.

Your nothing is…

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FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: WEEK #4- 2016 – Enough is Enough.

A wonderful flash fiction piece of hope and redemption.
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Morpethroad

public-domain-images-free-stock-photos-shoes-walking-feet-grImage: http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-shoes-walking-feet-grey-gravel-blue-jeans/

The opening sentence for the January 22nd  Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner:  “Enough is enough.”

I found myself hopelessly in love. But it was a love I didn’t want to stuff up like I had so many other relationships.

In the clear morning light the path to the hill of indecision still loomed high, still presented itself with choices to either run or face the consequences of pursuing a love that could be well near impossible

All was perfectly understandable I thought that she would baulk at a man with a past like mine. Telling her I’d been in gaol three times wasn’t my smartest move I had to say. But I was determined to be honest in my post incarceration life.

Take me or not I thought, whether or not I’d had a checked life was immaterial to the man I believed I now was…

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Shade of Winter – Poetry

hazy_shade_of_winter_by_lesfromages-d5p88yl

art credit: Hazy Shade of Winter by LesFromages

Shade of Winter

Is this death or rebirth?
The age old philosopher’s question –
ever the pessimist or the optimist
But there is more dormant below the surface
than the decaying above

The whisper of a chilled wind carries
the chiming of bangles:
it’s a hazy shade of winter
ushering in a deep freeze, so silent
one could go mad

And yet, Life bubbles out of frozen ponds
and glistens on tree buds
awaiting the moment to burst
into Divine interpretation
This performance is for the living
the bearer of hope in the bleakest of days

Copyright ©January 2016 Lori Carlson

The Harborer of Love

I enter the bedroom, so exhausted from living
and see you lying there, ebony strands on ivory,
your comforter-encased body clinched around my pillow.

If only I could tell you the haunts that keep me from you.
I tremble as I sit upon a corner of the bed, fear crawls in,
leers back and forth between us.

I beg it to leave, to not take the love we share,
to allow you the innocence of one unaffected
by the struggles of a deranged mind.

You stir; your eyes barely open and blink
as you move your head to rest upon my knee.
You inhale and exhale, sighing; I smell of sea salt and fish.

Tired from a day spent worn from demons,
I gently caress your hair. Your eyes close
and fear trembles upon your lips.

Sighing deeply, I tell you all is fine.
You whisper, I know
but I hear the doubt.