Grateful for my blistered anger
propelled by a tolerance break;
Awe can put an end to slander
when it’s about all you can take;
Most of the time I curb dander,
often it’s gone with a handshake;
Grateful for my blistered anger
propelled by a tolerance break;
Mashed up processes meander
leaking out into fists that shake;
Some may be slow on the uptake
trying me was the first mistake;
Grateful for my blistered anger.
Destiny
it's a hell of a ride
eyes wide open
quiver inside
Love your heroes
Loathe those you despise
No longer the end
Trying to survive
True grit
Bad sign
Mommas boy
Soured brine
Bastard son
Losing faith
Tightrope walking
Keeping pace
Eligant foul
Twisting hyperbole
Noisy chatter
Often disturbing me
Engine winds
Eulogy unread
Peace of mind
Never dead
Quickly born
Space between
Heaven Hell
Make believe
Soul tormented
Yearning for closure
Blistered and scarred
Too much exposure
O night sky and falling stars
Allow a wish unto me
With sunken eyes and trembling heart
With blistered feet do I plead
Find he who trampled these fields
So filled and fueled by greed
And curse the sword he wields
Thus his corpse the vultures feed
These willing men who battled he
Deserved not their pain
They tilled and grew these seeds
Their actions done in vain
For who has torn this land apart?
And left naught but debris?
O night sky and falling stars
With blistered feet do I plead
I carry the dead on my shoulders
In my heart they always will stay
So many loved ones are now gone
But I remember them every day
From my brother to my father
They have made me who I am
I can still see all of their faces
I will carry them to the end
Our lives are constantly changing
I try to take each day in stride
My scars and all of my blisters
I wear them all with pride
I carry my mother's strength
It helps keep me from falling apart
I also carry my father's wisdom
And my grandma's blistered heart
My current days are trails paved abhorrent
for I wail money twisted and time blistered
within knot plots I cannot get untwistered.
I live as a searcher of dollar measure flexers
and as an oh what should I do now perplexer.
Even toilet paper is a difficult gainer
when basic nutrition is not an obtainer.
Being a face washer, teeth flosser, hair brusher
and body cleaner upper are now strainers.
All intentions proper flare up money impaired
when one’s pennies add up to not even any.
How to be a life liver as a faith believer
when your scenes scream just be a quitter,
a truly properly decent sanity splitter?
When losing my job hard spun me money shun,
my question grinder also lost its answer finder.
Tonight, I’ll be a bread crumb eater and soup sipper
but tomorrow I may be a slipper wearing mess
roamer, a senseless out loud streaming press
and a restaurant trash can nonchalant searcher
who forgot her thoughts once held nothing worser.
... CayCay
August 22, 2019
This is my first Petrarchan sonnet...
Grey days of loss and loneliness are here
Sad nights as long as shadows in the deep
No joy, no hope, no gentleness, no sleep
No ray of light predicted to appear
Just disappointment, emptiness and fear
And sacred dreams discarded in a heap
By some abyss of faith too wide to leap
In ruins lies the love we held so dear
Wise folk will say there will be love again
That suns come up, and suns go down, and yet
All I perceive is darkness, drear and grim
All I can feel is searing hurt and pain
My heart, my fingers, too burnt to forget
All blistered, from the flame I hold for him
by Gail
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