I desperately gasp for you to save me,
as your indifference begins to remove all remaining traces of oxygen from my searing lungs.
Asphyxiation becomes more imminent.
Cortisol burns through tearing muscles,
ripping the marrow from aching bones, flailing to tread water.
Exhaustion floods in; saline-soaked clothing weighs heavier.
A siren’s call pierces through obscured waves,
crescendoing under a stygian sky,
tempting me under.
Dread replaces pleading.
Hope of survival is now beyond any comprehension.
Your voice no longer lingers;
it’s superseded by forceful whispers:
“If to love you, I must drown.”
Realisation hits like a tsunami crashing upon an unsuspecting ship.
To truly love you, I must love myself.
You were never my salvation.
So I must drown in this sickening sea of anguish,
let all the trauma pull me down into sheer oblivion.
Feel my body thrash as the light leaves my submissive eyes.
In order to be reborn, I must ascend way below.
Emotions are like waves.
Waves so strong consume me.
Trying to pull me under like the riptide. But I’m failing to stay afloat.
Water rushing over my head.
Holding my breath till my lungs burn. Lungs burning, as they wait to gasp for air.
Fighting to get my head above the water once again.
Air forcing down my throat burning the whole way down.
I steady my breathing.
Inhale and exhale as I tread water. Locating where once was my safe place of refuge, now completely immersed.
Immersed for now, but not forever.
I'm slowly evaporating from this verbal tennis match
For some reason we continue to give breath to these vapor windy circles
Brewing a coffee tornado that is going to spill all over my shirt
And they say don't cry over spilled milk, but there's a river of rain I've been holding back
And I'll be damned if I let this game end at 40 love
But is victory really as sweet when blood sheds from pain and not perseverance
I'll keep painstakingly swimming even when the water is above my head
Because when you take that 1 second to notice everything around you
The dirty food tables are eventually going to be clean
The question isn't who is going to do the dishes
But when will we stop acting like goldfish fighting in my dishwasher
And look outside the glass to see a whole world needing just one person to keep swimming
p.s. you don’t have to tread water when you can float with your reflection...
I didn’t even try
To drown in the sea of your blue eyes
If only I could be promised a loving sight
In those bright blue eyes
But I fell hard and now I’m paying the price
My weak heart stabbed by the prettiest knife
Now in this pretty blue sea I have died
If only I’d tried to tread water for so long
Now I drown deep down in the big blue beyond
I’d give anything in the world to be
Not just another girl lost in the big blue sea
Passion of Christ laid bare for all to see
while he treads fire, we tread water in this land of the free
dark clouds gather to witness the falling of a King
while we on shaky knees follow closer beneath black turbine skies
to grieve His eminent death...
Persecuted and whipped he sheds all earthly pagan dress
and leaves through the shadows with bile on his breath...
a test of will not of body but of spirit
resting His weight on the spikes driven into His hands
He called out to His Father in heaven,
"Father if it is possible, please let this cup pass by me "
but as the heaven's rumbled Father crumbled
and said " My son, it must be done."
and so He offered one last breath and then, he died.
Spring passed
here is Summer
at last, not her last
lasting grief, summer’s relief
cool waters flow
seasons surpass
dictates of time
as we tread water
especially her spouse
he finds slight smile
in a bottle, birds
nibbling seeds
his kids calling
on him, expecting
not too much
he is a gentle soul
supposed to be
with his other half
Summer sun
will ne’er be
a comfort
nor sea nor sand,
a shovelful or grain,
sifts through his fingers
starfish in the sky
interest his gaze
missing arms and legs
seasons will come’n go
beachcombers will bum
the sea’s in his eyes
the sun burns
immemorial
no June*
6/21/2021
*mom’s name
some souls can’t be reached from here.
It isn’t planned that way,
it just becomes.
doors are opened, doors are closed
we seldom see a fish swim backwards
more than several feet.
perhaps they just tread water
until their stream rolls by.
bells never stop mid-swing,
mid-ring, mid-everything.
rain falls upward
in weeping dreams
souls fall down
awkwardly awakened by
what many call their life.
I want to paint a broken cup,
to make it whole
but flowers don’t un-grow
they simply die
or maybe not so simply after all.
We’re all caught up in the wiggle and grin
of lives held together
by what’s called a “safety” pin.
when there’s nothing really safe
about you after all.
It’s going to blow.
The saxophone sexuality
of a volcanic slumber
has become a thundering in our hearts.
We feel it in the thigh of being
and in the strung valleys
of elbows and knees.
Olives groves and vineyards
tremble in their green dreams.
Village churches stumble
over their stone steps.
Black bedecked widows
plead their prayers under the clamor
of evermore strident bells.
Forewarnings rumble everywhere,
molten threats menace,
hazards hover,
hang and heap upon our heads.
The quaking cone seems nearer.
We tread water upon fretful tracks
the land leans,
is less latched together,
leavers and the lost
move more slowly
wading through
the darkling dust of history,
Imagining now the terraced hills
already sliding to the sea.
You rent the fourth floor of nowhere,
a place like any other place.
Except there, your expectations,
run counter: to reality.
Haunted by ghosts of hurts and doubts:
you rent the fourth floor of nowhere.
There are no fantasy dreams there:
nor shooting stars, to grant your wish.
There, shadows of shadows get cast;
behind doors that never open.
You rent the fourth floor of nowhere
and set no limit to your stay.
You cannot swim, you've tread water
in a wading pool all your life.
And now, locked in your hideaway:
you rent the fourth floor of nowhere.
Maybe I'm a talker
Mostly just let words leak from me
Doesn't mean I don't watch
I know what other people see
It's easy for me to settle my will
I'm used to caving in
I let you blow heat
That's kinda my thing
The trouble is I suppress me
I can't pretend I don't bleed
Inwardly I'm gushing liquid astonishment
I look like a shadow of humanity
My mask is handcrafted
I have years of bruises
Brush stroked meticulously
Always painted perfectly
Step on me
I'll hold your weight
Until you walk over me
Then it's you that will have to wait
Do you feel replaceable
Tread water but know you’re sinking
Swallow salt like it’ll cure you’re heartache
Know that your sanity is slowly dwindling
I wear angel wings
But my feathers are stained with blood
I hold my head up to breath
Except my heart’s been trampled in mud
Mr. Ant who was feeling very dehydrated,
walked to get some relief he anticipated,
quenching his thirst he drank from the river,
falling in was swept away cold and shivering,
Lovely dove on overhead branch witnessed the scene,
plucked off a leaf and dropped it into the stream,
Mr. Ant exhausted tread water to the leaf craft,
climbed aboard it smiling didn't think he would last,
Eventually Mr. Ant sailed safely to the river bank,
spying the designs of a bird catcher his heart quickly sank,
with the catcher finishing touches on his trap twig nest,
Mr. Ant bit him in the foot and the catcher threw down the rest,
Whereupon the loud commotion alarmed the dove who shuddered,
making her take to the air with quick grace and a flutter,
with her returning after the bird catcher ran off leaving his clutter,
the new friends thought "one good turn definitely deserves another."
"The Ant and the Dove Fable"
2-24-17
When he was a child, He threw my belongings out the window
Gazed upon me not knowing, Where I would go
Belt welts for my belongings, He did not know
Sorry my brother, My Highs reached your lows
When I became a teen mom, He embraced my change
Knowing I've always been like a mother, To my Lil Big Brother I reined
When he realized he beat me, He was not naive to see
However his mind was not developed enough, To see it was breaking me
He adapted to my change gradually, Seeing it as the norm
Eventually seeing the sister he once knew, Becoming someone he now mourned
As he grew he pushed harder, Knowing hopes and dreams for him were true
Occasionally falling off track, Doing what he had to do
Graduating first, Meeting the finish line
He knew he made me proud, As an adult expressing his mind
Helping me to stay afloat, Encouraging me as his life boat
I continue to tread water, Within tsunamis throat
Now using him as the outlet, In which I express
My deep darkest fears, He wipes away my tears
When younger siblings step in, In pride you should not be led
They to know whats best, While maintaining our thread
FISHING SHADOWS © Haiku
Two fins tread water
Fish swim the shadowed shelf ledge
Breathing from its gills!
Swimming Fish © Haiku
Probing fish swim near
Fins redirect the swimming ‘school’
And a baited worm waits!
Safe Place © Haiku
Deep broken ships lay
With some hiding fish
Far from unseen predators.
fish
Hooked Fish © Haiku
Fish fins steer the swim
Far from hidden predators
And baited worm hook-lines!
fish
FISHING SHADOWS © Haiku
Fish under the sea
Breathing from two gills
While fins tread water!
fish
Swimming Fish © Haiku
Safely from death's door
Fluttering fins steer the swim
Predators are seen!
fish
DARK SPACES © Haiku
Bidding fish on sunken ships
Lay in gloom from lighted dark spaces
Way far from death's floor!
Autumn is a frozen church
We wait at heavy doors
That smell of rust,
Not a Moon cold enough
To be called heartless
Or breathclouds of old steam
More an estuary of
Dumped mist afraid to ice;
The taste of wax on your lips,
A frame of hair round a
Hatted face, out steps as slow
As if we must tread water,
You are ice and rain and
The first crystals and even
More than this, beside me.
(for Carl Sharpe)
We Bend but Never Break
Stand your ground the Monarchs cry
defend our power, do not ask why
Know we rule by our divine right
murder so easily with our might!
Bow down to kiss our Godly feet
we are the best you will ever meet
Know your place and all is fine
now pick the grapes, stomp the wine!
We stand above the shining light
ordering peons to slave and fight
Get cracking , do as you are told
if lucky, you'll work until very old!
the refutation......
Stand there in your deep disgrace
vainly thinking to be a better race
We searched and found freedom's call
you bow or else you will fall!
On bended knee beg for our help
bark, bark , you surly little welp
Learn your place to stay alive
tread water or else take a dive!
We stand in great defiant cause
no longer obey your stupid laws
Obey meekly and you just may live
that's most you get , more we'll never give!
Robert J. Lindley, August 3rd, 1974
Written when I was 21 years old, so full of piss and vinegar!
Youth has the advantage of - energy and eagerness....
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