Shipwrecked In a Hot Mess

The frustration and glory of being a writer...

 

I’ve been sailing on hidden oceans

      of paper trails trying to find me                               

                          my voice calling out

  but lost in storm.

 

When I look back through years past

   In frantic motions of pen and keyboard

           through Rage and Smoke

       pain and moans

  so much toil being power raked in this writing soil      and

  I am amazed by the strength you’ve given me.

 

Do you know what it takes to break through?

 

 Hours of tedious introspection

 

  fighting for survival   when ship wrecked in a hot mess

   heart and mast on fire        hope   lost in roving    black tides

  light house    gone           deep

                    wounds

   gushing

 

with nothing but pen and paper     to stop the bleeding

 

tearing hairs out          pacing burning floors

   crumbled pieces of paper   strewn along the wayside

  no sleep

  gun barrel in mouth

no friends to call

no food

no drink

clock

         ticking

               down

to final deadline of your demise

totally abandoned by everyone

sitting more alone than the last man on Earth.

 

  Wishing for light on horizon to help you see true words that feel right

      falling

          down   from

            terrible

                    heights

that smash your heart on sharp     dark      ROCKS

 

my bloody knuckles rapping on Invisible Doors

 a lone wolf crying out    

“LET ME IN, LET ME IN”

Years and years of struggle

 Failing  at life     and    knowing

Some vast pool   with immeasurable   depth and beauty    is   calling to you

To swim    to jump      to play

  To float     to sing       to sway

“Let Me In, Let Me In,  I  know you’re in there”

 

And just when you’re about to pull the trigger,

to meet the deadline  

as you lay shipwrecked 

in a lost harbor

smoke from your dreams on fire 

curling through  night air

like some battlefield only   you know about,

 

 Magic sparks ignite  

right  words hit  home

invisible doors open just enough to

 sneak a foot in

  and if you’re lucky

peek at vast pools

reflecting simple truth

in such a way

 

that when the sun rises and wind stirs,

 

A light on water seems to ripple dance to your feet

   with a breeze behind it as if the wind is helping the light  reach you

      in a impeccable timing of   perfect   alignment

  as 

water carries tiny suns

to you in a 

dazzling  display

of magic wonder

 

   so,    when you look back

at all the grinding hours, 

paper trails and fights

tears    rage   love   and     war

 

  I smile and say

 

  “it was all worth it    just to see this moment       SHINE    and         breathe    this Air Of Truth.”