in the pain of the night
Category: Writing and Poetry

I wish we could re-do it all

I wish we could renew

everything that went wrong

from the very beginning-

I'm so sorry

it happened to You.

I just want to tear

my heart

Out

to keep it from hurting,

but it stays right there,

the aching

Inside

my chest-

Ripping at my soul:

Memories I don't want-

Thoughts I can't share.

I try to remember the good-

I want to be like you,

But regret floods my senses

with plenty of pain to spare.

Why are you gone?

Why can't I feel you near?

Where are you now?

When will you come to tell

me

You are okay, in a better place?

When will my heart finally burst

when I keep crying out in the night

"Mama, my life hurts"?

Currently listening : Untitled By Korn Release date: 2007-07-31

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mama and the movies
Category: Writing and Poetry

I never expected

a vision-

I knew you weren't ever coming back

to me.

I knew you weren't going to come down

from the ceiling

and tell me everything would be all right,

although that, of course, would have been your style…

Instead you came to me through little

thoughts set to motion images-

memory-stirring

jolts

mixed

throughout a series of

               subtle scenes

I never consciously set out to see-

I guess that makes sense, too,

knowing how we were…

We loved our movies, my mama and me.

I had a strange

feeling of sadness

when I met him-

although he seemed so kindred

to my soul,

We felt the same stirring of the spirit-

but I heard only an echo

while he spoke to and knew-

he was so much more the hero,

Then you reminded me

of the upcoming

possibilities untold,

both treacherous and

tenacious,

but my own blossom was

delayed by the weeds-

                 choked out

and

                   over-run,

and when I thought that

I was just as undone as my own father was-

         doesn't even matter- because

                                I realized that

the dig is just around the

corner in June

and my soil will

be readied and retain

the imprint-

maybe I, too, will open up in the sun

still

to come

Still yet again—

finding yourself

a stranger to yourself,

you wondered if

you ever really knew

who you were at all-

an identity beyond

being "this" or "that"

or more importantly

being "his" or being "theirs" or

being "yours"

or being "strong"

sometimes strength

is making it through

the night,

as you well knew…

A self-imposed prison

was the venture,

although not intended-

certain sins

to be paid for-

in the aftermath

of an unwanted wisdom-

shining in from no place particular,

yet the remembrance of past dread,

a feeling worse

than being dead persists…

why must we drudge through the past

to gain any sense of the present,

or is it just me, crazy?

                  Linear progression was never my thing…

nor yours.

You came to me in these puzzle pieces,

just as you would,

but

perhaps as only you could manage,

making me more knowledgeable

but sad, no, not sad, remorseful…

but hoping to do better

in the days yet to come.

2008

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on life and moving on
Category: Writing and Poetry

Amongst the boxes and books of a life-

mounds of toys, an electronic cord mass,

a mess of belongings,

Mountain ranges of clothing,

piled in black garbage bags

of course-

boxes upon boxes,

books upon books,

rows like

city streets and high-rise buildings

of

papers, pictures and notebooks.

Research

Material

Possession

Of dollar wallpaper that falls

down in the corners

and wrinkles along the wall;

It's not supposed to do that!

Or perhaps it wasn't properly installed

I've never been good at those things.

Life isn't supposed to do that

flyby

that breaks the sound barrier

sending shock waves to

rattle the glasses in the cabinet.

Memories stir

the inner workings

at

no place more profoundly

than home-

the very site where

joy and misery

melt together

into one of those little butterscotch

candies trapped in a drawer for three years,

maybe four.

Bubblewrapped treasures

preserve ties to those that bind

with

contents of love splashes and

pain stabs- 

Nothing blends 

fresh and stale emotion

better than ceramic.

Pain isn't supposed to last so long

yet pass by so fast,

finding a new you

through the heartaches and mourning

of a decade folding in on itself,

meeting yourself

again,

in the city of your life-

located inside a somewhat shitty apartment

with the upstairs tub

and downstairs kitchen

floor

due to meet each other 

sometime in the near future.

Still,

I remember fondly the tree-house days,

the twin tower silos,

where Lang's Farm doubled as Manhattan.

I continue to feel the warmth of

the blue stars that softened the light

shining over three girls

who dwelled

among infernal blue hearts

 that slide and peel-

the tender'st of writing is always on the wall,

pointing somehow to the next stop along the way.

Natalie L. Hogan

2006

11:20 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

defining "the poet"
Current mood: indescribable
Category: I miss Danette’s blog Writing and Poetry

A Poet

        Is the most unpoetical of anything in existence;

Because he has no Identity—he is continually…filling some other body—The Sun, the Moon, the Sea and Men and Women, who as creatures of impulse are poetical and have about them an unchangeable attribute—the Poet has none; no identity—he is certainly the most unpoetical of all of God's creatures.

-John Keats

Currently listening : Simon & Garfunkel - Greatest Hits By Simon & Garfunkel Release date: 25 October, 1990

5:42 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Knew from the beginning
Category: Music

We knew from the beginning

There's no turning back

But

that doesn't dull the pain

of that initial attack.

Been through so much

now, we're so different-

so far apart, no chance

our hearts will ever touch

again. 

Again.

Knew from the beginning

there's no turning back-

like a deer in the headlights'

blinding smack.

On that cusp

with drinks in hand

waiting to crash and burn

onto a new land.

That new land

comes soon enough,

through that looking glass

empty,

onto a sea-tossed isle-rough.

If you go there often,

so easy to do; leave that

chaos behind toppling

and turning onto

itself while you collapse

into a void

calling your name.

It seemed so new

but it's always the same.

 Adrift between two

Opposing currents,

Attracted, but circling the drain.

Knew from the beginning

there's no turning back,

but that doesn't dull

the pain.

2007

7:48 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

dreamsong II
Category: Writing and Poetry

I used to dream of storms.  Howling winds raging at my door

and window,

a gigantic force of gushing waves

shattering glass at my feet,

in medias res pieces,

no resolution, no end-

no way out

or back in

to see what became of me.

I used to dream of beginnings.

Fresh light of day

running through her

in the meadow,

ardent spotlights piercing 

the pink sky, a

simple perfection

at work

with final understanding.

The dimming

began

as grey horizon

battles the sun

for dominion

o'er the unseen universe

beyond,

with its

endless possibilities

remembering, of course, that all conditions

are relative.

Awakening to the unsettled

enigma

spread through ten thousand

forms

within my mind.

A soul's work,

when nature is revealed,

toils in languorous

wreckage

for what seems like eternity,

Currently listening : Wonderful World By Israel Iz Kamakawiwo’ole Release date: 26 June, 2007

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my prayer
Category: Writing and Poetry

Oh! to a foul

Breath

Of ill tiding.

Oh! to my spirit

Soaring:

May it not lose

Its abiding

Love,

Governing Love.

Give me the strength

To over-

Come

Life's changing

Turning battles.

Grant me grace

To rise above

And see only

What matters.

12:00 AM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

untitled XVI
Category: Writing and Poetry

Lost in the remains
of a disaffected youth

A stunted growth
into what may have been
intended

for one life

dismayed from the onset

interfered with

a course of a life

disrupted from the beginning.

What is to become of it?

8:24 PM - 1 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Under the Mountain (revised)
Category: Writing and Poetry

11:53 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Wash over me
Current mood: awake
Category: Listening to Erene’s "I am a woman" Writing and Poetry

Wash me clean

Of this World

That held my spirit

hostage

for so long

Cleanse my spirit

of the soiled remains

my sprawling captivity

attached upon me in chains

Break my bonds

of deprivation

and bring me cleanliness,

the

sparkle

of purity

residing strongly

in the Earth herself,

and available to all,

as abundant as the sea.

The healing

Water,

It's there for me.

It's there for me.

--> -->  --> -->

Currently reading : Dealing with Degas: Representations of Women and the Politics of Vision By Richard Kendall Release date: 01 January, 1991

10:28 PM - 2 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

my demon (updated)
Current mood: twisted
Category: twisted Writing and Poetry

1

Currently listening : O.C.M.S. By Old Crow Medicine Show Release date: 10 February, 2004

2:22 AM - 3 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

new day prayer
Current mood: melancholy
Category: hopeful grieving Writing and Poetry

I must get back to a good feeling

Been lost in suspended animation

But you can't escape your

physical being

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Reality, it catches up with you

           it waits silently

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

For your return,

your attention again

So it can overwhelm you,

Blaring your neglect

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Revealing your location

Deep within a hole-

Looking for a lifeline

to your destination

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Lost are you-

both afraid to move

and also not to,

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

With angst I tread

anew

though I know this hell

well— where fear and

dread never bid adieu.

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

How do things get

out of hand to that

point?

I don't understand—

Why can't I concentrate

My heart's command?

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

I do not understand.

Why I was running away from

The mundane triviality of day after listless day.

This was dangerous because  it  is  beautiful

now that it's gone forever.

I needed something.

                What?

To be free

from this pressure

                What?

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

It's haunting me.

Are you there?

Please tell me.

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Calm me please

Please calm me

Help me focus.

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Focus.  Take these jitters

These fearful frustrations

Please.

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Release me from my

Physical Dislocation

Bring me back down

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Down from this

monumental metaphysical force

That leaves me reeling in space

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Not gravity.  Release me

But protect me

Help me keep that gravity

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

From closing in

On my soaring spirit.

Am I a strange soul?

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

Searching, for something

                to respect again,

                myself

--> --> --> --> --> --> --> -->

A better way to overcome

a whole new day.

Currently listening : Songs of Mass Destruction By Annie Lennox Release date: 02 October, 2007

7:29 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment