Thinking, thinking, thinking

Loneliness hits so unexpectedly.

In a room full of people or when you're alone.

Just you and your thoughts.

Just thinking, thinking, thinking and it won't stop.

Laying in bed with the lights turned off.

Hearing voices, the rhythm of breath, the sounds of life. 

Thinking, thinking, thinking and sleep won't come.

Laying there wishing someone's arms would wrap around you.

To give you a sign that you're not alone.

To show you there's someone who will listen, care, and just,

                                                                                notice.

Thinking, thinking, thinking, and you feel no one's embrace.

There are so many people who would help.

There are so many people who would care.

The problem is, they don't always notice, they don't always know to listen.

They have to be told and you're afraid to do that. 

Thinking, thinking, thinking and you don't speak up.

Happiness is so easy to fake.

There's no difference between a happy smile and a pretend one. At least not to the naked eye.

But to the heart there is. 

Expressions can be trained, feelings can't and that is your problem, you want control.

Thinking, thinking, thinking as you give the world a smile. 

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

If you could shut off your mind your problems would be solved.

No more thinking for you, just feel, don't analyze. 

That would make it all go away...right?

You don't know why you're like this now. 

You weren't always this way.

You want to feel happy like you did before. 

You want to laugh and not know how to stop. 

You want to let loose, go crazy, be weird, but you're not sure how.

You can't shut off your mind.

Thinking, thinking, thinking, always. 

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

You hate your mind.

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

You think too much.

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

Just, STOP. 

Reviews

[annieb]

Thank you so much Laughing-Bear. Your reflection and the things you wrote about my poem are so beautiful. You have a wonderful way with words, I feel very special that you took the time to direct them toward me. I'm glad you can relate to having a mind that is constantly buzzing with thoughts. This poem may show it as a curse, but I also think it's a gift and even though it drives me crazy at times (as you can see), I don't think I would ever be able to give it up! Thank you again, I really appreciate the time you took to read this and I would be honored if you kept it to read whenever you like. I really admire your work and I can't wait to see more. Enjoy the rest of your day or night (I'm not exactly sure of the time difference), I hope it's as beautiful where you are as it sounds!

[Laughing-Bear]

Annieb, this poem hit me like a sledgehammer between the eyes! It brings to the forefront the truth that things do not make a content life, but committed loving, healthy relationships make for a content life. And unless we have become so hardened that we are total hate, our souls pine for relationships that are true, accepting, loving, and committed even if they know all our little secrets that would shock most.
As I pondered your poem sitting in the setting sun I watched as the rays of light shown off the coats of my dog team, giving each a different look. I struck a match to my pipe and as the smoke came across my vision I realized this gave a different view through my eyes of each of my friends stretched out on top of their doghouses basking in the setting sun. I thought is this how I see people, or they see me. A distortion of the true image. I know my dog’s hearts and they are true. But the view I was having of them gave them an appearance that was unlike what they are. Do we see beyond the outside of people and see their pneuma, as well when will we be able or willing to drop our walls that protect us broken toys and let others see the creations we are. How can pining souls ever have a soul mate to drink coffee with as the sun rises, tell our little secrets to, or spoon with through the bitter cold nights if we don’t?
Later as the moon was on high I tipped back my head on the porch and tried to howl, my team looked at me in a quizzical way and one by one started to sing until all of us were singing at the moon. It sounded wonderful even though my singing was on par with the chipmunks singing a song with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I wondered is that what we have to do figuratively speaking, lift our voices and just maybe some of the people around us will join is in song so we can find those pined for deep interpersonal relationships?
Your first two lines were “Loneliness hits so unexpectedly. In a room full of people or when you're alone.” I thought how true at times, but I would rather be lonely single than lonely with a supposed soul mate whom is not there with you but is mentally and emotionally with some one else. And that is why I believe it is paramount to smile at the people we meet or say kind words, as we may be the only person who that person will receive that from for possibly days.
As I went to bed one of my lead dogs I left in my cabin for the night. Nikki came over and nudged me wagging her tail with and odd look on her muzzle, I thought a smile. It was as she was saying you sang like hell today but we enjoyed you reaching out to us, we are a team. It made me ponder the lines of your poem that read.
“There are so many people who would help. There are so many people who would care. The problem is, they don't always notice, they don't always know to listen. They have to be told and you're afraid to do that. Thinking, thinking, thinking and you don't speak up.”
Just maybe you Annieb should figuratively speaking tip your head back and howl, maybe even if you are off key others might join you in song and loneliness might flee away. Maybe you just did with the posting of this poem. At least you now have a fan in Alaska who has this problem; all he can do is think, think, think!
Blessings, Laughing-Bear
Also as I live primitive in the Bush I do not have regular access to the net, I was near an Internet sight and logging in downloaded your poem to my tabletop so I could read it at home by the fire when I had time. Is this all right to do this with your poems as I always delete such writings and only keep them on file with the author’s permission?

[C.S. Posthumus]

I enjoyed this very much. Thinking too much... Brilliant work. You put a lot of well-thought-out (a bit ironic) effort into this.