What do you say when someone dies?

When the supermarket flowers aren’t enough.

And the food I bring begins to grow old,

Placed on a table, buried by piles of stuff.

I could buy a million roses,

But in a week, they would have died.

They might crumble in your hand,

and they won’t fill the void inside.

I know that the calendar won’t change months,

And the clock will freeze in time,

And the bells will softly taunt you,

when they begin to chime.

So I stand upon your doorstep,

But my hands refuse to knock.

I usually know exactly what to say,

But now, I’m afraid to talk.

I look to the heavens as if they’ll answer,

Today, the sky is more gray than blue,

And I whisper to whoever is listening,

“He cries every time he thinks of you.”

I wish we could fill your hollow bones,

With food, flowers and some dessert.

But you already seem too heavy,

In your eyes, I see all of your hurt.

I guess this is part of life,

I’ll be honest, we don’t know what to do

So I’ll just silently stand here by your side,

I’ll always be waiting here for you.

I’ve always said life moves fast, but,

Buying these roses today was never planned.

And now I’m standing at your door,

Staring at the supermarket flowers in my hand.

(as published at the Society of Classical Poets website, Jan 2023)

Upon the rushing river’s bank I stand,

deep water, ever flowing as it goes.

The turbulence of my life it reflects

as if my mortal pain, it truly knows.

I close my eyes while cruel heartache builds

and boils. It swirls and churns from deep within,

akin to eddies in the river’s course,

all ever flowing seaward as they spin.

A lifetime lived within each second’s tick,

my heart’s emotions ever flowing strong

form rapids, waterfalls, and twisting turns,

which carve deep channels as they sing love’s song.

Though time often appears to stand quite still,

it’s always ever flowing, moving fast;

toward blank tomorrows and the great unknown,

each day it takes us further from the past.

Through waves of dappled light and shadows dark

we chart the river’s course each day anew,

as yearning, ever flowing, on we roll,

to seek the distant rest of oceans, blue.

Before us lies the fear of change and loss—

deep love becomes deep grief when torn apart.

Time’s ever flowing nature is our bane,

yet passing time can mend a broken heart.

My life’s become the river’s equal now,

surviving ever flowing pain and grief

while drawing strength from pools of love and faith,

I cherish moments calm, however brief.

-----------------------

© 2023 dustygrein

This will not be like my other posts, this one will lack poise and refinement, but it will be as raw and real as anything I have ever written. The morning is cloudy, it's just rained, but the clouds linger over us. So, what's special about this morning? Nothing. I had plans to go out with a friend, a friend who won't reply. My dad asked me, "How's college? How are your friends?" and all I could ask is "What friends?". My adventures are always alone, but my deepest secret is that I want a group of friends in college more than I could ever imagine. The last few weeks have been a steady stream of people ditching me for something better, reinforcing the notion that I will always be 2nd in someone's life, even if they come first for me.

The only good group of friends I have is scattered across the country, weekly facetime calls are the only thing that reminds us that home is made of people, not a place. And under the veil of my online identity, I will tell you my biggest secret. Last week, one of my friends asked us, "If you could be granted one wish, right now, what would it be?", and that was the first time I've ever lied to my friends. We laughed, more happiness, more freedom, maybe some Taco Bell, we joked. But here it is, here is what I wanted to wish for, so horrible that I haven't even been able to say it out loud.

I wished everyone would forget me. I wished that no one would feel pain if I left. I've wanted to run, disappear, leave, drown, and the harshest one of all, I once wanted to leave this earth. But there is a thought in my head, that the people who really love me, might feel a irreversible pain. It's like a safety net, and they will never know how deeply, they are the only thing tethering me to this world. But, by god, sometimes I wish that no one knew me, so it would hurt them when my feet break out into a run and I disappear.

It's a horrible thing, I know, but I can only be lonely for so long. I'm sure it doesn't feel like the end of the world to you, but to me, I think that the world would keep spinning and it wouldn't make a difference. The only thing that stops me from just disappearing is that it might cause more pain than my freedom is worth. Will this be my life? Adventuring alone and telling myself that I like it better than being with people? What is it that makes me want to run away? I'm looking for something different out of life and people my age aren't seeking the same things. I can't pretend the alcohol makes me feel full, it only leaves me feeling empty. I can't cope the way they do. Because if I do, and I reach the bottom of the bottle, it'll be as empty as I feel.

I'm sorry, if you are reading this, I am sorry. I am sorry for the tears that are falling from my eyes and I am sorry for the pain I feel. I know you don't have to be reading this, but my god, I appreciate it. It means the world and more to me. This is my safe space. This will be the secret I take to the grave. It's a cloudy morning, and I still can't see the sun in the sky.

The Mind is a Wonderful Creation 19

Taunting to rule

the fear still lingers in the background

tauntingly reminding you what was there

with the mental and physical scars

…fear still taunting to rule

the slightest memory of an event

will open the forgotten memory banks

stiffening your nerves opening your senses

…fear still taunting to rule

the hairs on the back of the neck are wound up

and you pull and twist at your hair

the thoughts and memory of it still mars

…fear still taunting to rule

trying to forget is good for a difficult dent

and is working because you give thanks to friends

who help mending your fences

…fear still taunting to rule

© Julia A Knaake

~~~*~~~ ~~~*~~~ ~~~*~~~

A yellow Leaf

yes it is falling so very free

twisting and twirling all around

away from the sky so blue

using all its mighty power

finally unhinged from the tree

falling to the ground

to decompose and turn

a new and spring into a dear flower

© Julia A Knaake

~~~*~~~ ~~~*~~~ ~~~*~~~

Honey

Seven years ago

it broke my heart

when you moved so very far away

so I give with love this gift

I made for you let us never part again

Seven years ago

we were good buddys

on a very special team and

we bowled to hearts content

let us never part again

Seven years ago

I missed you

from the start wondering and thinking

of you everyday often it made my life

so very blue let us never part again

Seven years ago

back to the neighborhood

my heart beats wanted to scream

but now it’s a happy heart and

not bent let us never part again

© Julia A Knaake

~~~*~~~ ~~~*~~~ ~~~*~~~

Circle of you

Where does the future

of any human take them

when they walk the

twisting winding roads

of their life through

the ups and downs

of everyday living

turning at each be

nd in the path.

It is a fact that you

are born live and die.

No one of us are able

to change this cycle.

There is no way possible

because it is fact not fiction.

Some are born

with a silver spoon

getting everything

they desire

while others have nothing

but struggles every

moment of their life.

Often the life you live

is through circumstances

beyond your control

often repeated by your

care takers although

many pull out of this

repetitious circle making

their lives better

and more bearable

throughout the years.

When death finally

takes you

often there are words

about you

kind or unkind

bringing you home full circle.

Do you know the circle of you?

© Julia A Knaake

The Garden Riders

Hello my name is Colette but call me Gigi

I love my rider and his gentle caressing touch

I am a motorcycle riding down the road

winding, twisting and turning every curve

My bright color is sexy candy apple red

we stop in the country in a colorful garden

The flowers are bold, ugly the will never be

the trees sway and the grasses are so mild

We stop to rest under the tall leafy trees

I rest and cool down while he has some lunch

My owner is pleasing and good to me

keeping me in running order very much

My rider is wiry and not a heavy load

he’s smart and safe but with lots of nerve

A rider must be joyful and lively and not dead

our love for one another will never harden

My tires are the best that take us to see

all the countryside on roads that are wild

Riding along and singing in the cool breeze

my owner and I really like each other a bunch

© Julia A Knaake

Our bodies change constantly

33 billion cells

die and replenish themselves

daily

it has been said

every inch of self renews every 7 years.

Every experience changes us

every minute we age

every thing we ingest

physically mentally spiritualy

becomes a part of ourselves.

We can starve ourselves

poison ourselves

make ourselves obese

force ourselves to vomit

bring on our own death

but yes

in the end

there will always be

a tab required for us to pay.

My fingers hover over the keyboard

I don’t know what to type

I’m afraid of what should come

If I really lose myself in the writing

Sometimes when I zone out

I look back at what my fingers do

And am astonished

I had no idea that was even in my mind

It scares me

I don’t want to be an open book

Especially for strangers online

My mom did that

It was really bad

She wasn’t even trying poor thing

But I won’t think about it

I refuse to think about it

And I will not let any such thing happen to me

Not me

So this I am afraid to lose myself in writing

Funny because when I feel stressed

Or scared

I choose to plunge into the keyboard

And lose myself in writing

But not this time

This time I hold myself back

Reserved

Out of fear

Fear

Fear

Fear is an interesting word

It can mean both good and bad

“Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”

But fear of people is sinful

Fear of yourself is real

I am afraid of myself

Those pieces I have stored so carefully

In the deep recesses of my mind

I am afraid they will resurface

If I lose myself

I don’t want that

I close my eyes and hide away

From the fact I know myself

To be a horrendous hideous monstrous creature

Deserving of nothing

Yet I can’t let it show

When some of those pieces come to light

The people stare

They walk away

Leaving me more alone than over

And they think that’s the worst of it

They have no idea

Tip of the iceberg

The iceberg that will sink the Titanic

The Titanic me

Seeming beautiful

But deeply flawed

Doomed to sink

Down

Down

Down

Until all the good in me dies

And my life is a wreck

At the bottom of the ocean

People don’t talk about when the Titanic sailed beautiful

They talk about when it sank

How it never resurfaced

How nearly everything on it died

She notices that something happens whenever she initiates sex or tries to implement certain... 'elements' to their time together. Even something as simple as a passionate or descriptive utterance whispered in his ear is met with resistance. Perhaps a mild disapproval of some sort exists on his end? She just can't quite put her finger on it.

She is beginning to strongly suspect there is something about a bold woman that offends him. Maybe it is due to his conservative upbringing? Perhaps he feels it is a slight to his masculinity for the woman to take control? Wherever it may stem from, she feels it and she cannot ignore it.

She never catches it during the act itself, but shortly after. Ah, yes... there it is. The tiny shift in his demeanor once they are finished. Something that could easily be missed by a less perceptive female.

He will regard her a little lower for her openly wanton actions with him. It is not the proper behavior of a wife. His wife. Kind of like the way swearing would be frowned upon in a good Christian household. There are just certain ways that are wordlessly agreed upon and upheld, she supposes.

She can almost hear his voice within the look he tosses her as he leaves the bed:

'It's just not very becoming. Not ladylike.'

Hypocrite. How he loved fucking her in all her uncouth glory just minutes prior.

Nonetheless, she makes a mental note to conceal that tawdry part of herself better from here on out.

Yes, hide it.

Hide all of it.

the gaslight melted your ghost into vape

i sit watching the dark web of your treachery unravel

the water into which you fell ripples out

a catfish jumps

the trigger of my gun smoking

the bias of my dress covered in blood

you will do no more adulting

your grave shall be in this unlabeled pond

your crime is now your memory

since i will destroy your legacy

Life is so busy it feels like I can hardly breathe.

The proverbial elephant on my chest found an all you can eat buffet.

Slowly being crushed to death isn't the way I would have chosen to go.

I wonder, If I wait long enough, will it all fade to black?

I didn't mean to adopt this beast, but the apathy beckoned, lured me to shadows.

It sat hunched in the dark, and I thought, if I just touched it, I might be able to coax it into the light.

Instead I fell into the blackness.

This.. this constant companion... is an unwanted guest at an otherwise happy birthday party. It sits sullenly in the back of my mind, drowning me in overwhelm, and stripping the shine off my natural finish. How do you hide from the quiet desperation of life when it sleeps in your bed beside you each night?

Can I have a happy memory while I live under my blanket of crumbling despair?

I want better. If not for me... For them.

So, I'll shoulder this, offer up another hunk of me to feed the beast,

but I'm afraid that

before long

There'll be nothing left of me at all.