Tag Archives: thinking

Superhero Submerge

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Super hero

Superhero Jesus by Deus- Nocte via Deviant.com

“You my hero, you already saved the day”

A sentence jumping into my thoughts when I saw the theme for the first Prompt Stomp of 2016. The line is from Trip Lee’s Hero Invasion, a song I listened to so much at university. It definitely made me pause to an extent that I stopped everything, staring at the wall. Reflecting. Thinking of a time that Jesus was my superhero and no matter what circumstance occurred, he was the one to my rescue. It was a true description of “the solid rock” because with him I felt an anchor.  Some call him an imaginary friend but I never had those, I have characters from stories as friends but I cannot recall having imaginary friends. He was real like the characters from stories.

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What Happen To Dreams?

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A_woman_thinking

                             ÁWá photograph via Wikimedia.org

What happened to all the dreams as a child, the simple ones to develop a career, providing for myself?

What happened to the days of planning in a journal what I will do by age 25, 30 and so on?

What happened to all the fruits that should fall from hard work?

What happened to 2015 turning into my year?

The answers: NOTHING.

NOTHING good comes out of people like me, the people who be even mad at my struggle. Can you imagine people being jealous of a struggling, suffering person? Is that what the world has turned.

Then you have the ex boyfriend who messed up but will not leave you alone and his girlfriend who is adamant that you are the one who is after him. Someone needs a reality check.

This is not a piece for encouragement or inspiration. It is a frustrated words that need venting.

 

What/Why I Love

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Your non-physical touch unfolded my heart like a flower in the beginning of bloom.

You made me responsive and hungry for your love just as a bee sucking the attractive nectar.

I remember when I felt that small yawning inside, too nervous to think about it, let alone admit it.

Then came the Lion roaring in my chest and it scared the daylights out of me like the sun dipping over the horizon.

I remember when I first met you, dealing over the affairs of History. I was too busy sorting out the loose ends of our project to notice you but when I did, boy oh boy did I  love what I heard.

Like Jojo “I am a sucker for a guy with a beautiful mind” and you were that man.

Our minds dance over ideas and debates of politics, history, family and religion. Our discussions became food, an insatiable delight.

I suspect my head fell for you before my heart, a heart that you once ask me to follow.

It is a puzzle, like Charlotte in a web I wrote my heart on my sleeves without realizing my actions.

My heart cried bullets of despair when I caught how far my ship sailed into your harbour. I gave so much without any discussion of exclusivity.

Your name was always in my head along with a goofy grin when I recall something you said and/or did.

Your stubbornness collided into my stubbornness into a boiling pot of too much comfort with each other

Although time has faded the urgency of feelings your essence still hugs my being. I no longer beat up myself for thinking of you. It is what it is…


Prompt Storm 11: Why/Why I love

 

SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS

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Sometimes I want to scream, freeing my lungs of decay but nothing comes out.

I want to roar with the lions shaking that audacity to reality but I am much afraid to enter the jungle.

Therefore, I scream in my head, letting the vibrating of my timbre rattled my thoughts into whatever.

That came to no good because every time I fall to a heavy head with heavier thoughts.

The Day of The Flood

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Rough Seas

Rough Seas

Tossed to and fro on angry waves of memories.
Those demons do not want to sleep.
Creeping through my blood stream, shivering with more than remembrance.
It is not fair, why should I care?
It was you who shipwrecked me on that stormy coast.
You knew that only diving gets one out, yet you left.
No life jacket, just a boat with no oar.
I felt you watching from the distance.
Your pride silently demanded my SOS
but you know my stubborn will to face a thousand sharks,
bring on survival of the fittest.
*Winces* Maybe half of a shark,
ok, ok, several fucks, I gave several fucks to you caring.
Please stop the pretending, the plead of always ignorant of,
do not forget, I once gazed into your thoughts.
Remember that time, when you lowered your defences,
well I peeked and I saw what you did not want me to know.
Maybe this knowledge makes it harder to swallow that salt water,
dashing on flickers of hope *winces*you left me to drown.
You might as well ship me to The Toilet Bowl in Hawaii.
All the shit is flushing out now,
drifting into that stormy sea.
Bitch you left me.

He Did It!

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Why is it, that every time someone gets caught in an act, they quickly point out what someone else is doing as well?!

Never heard of the phrase “you do the crime, you should do the time?”

Apparently in today’s society no one wants to walk the Hall of Shame alone.

“If I must go down, I am taking someone with me,” mentality seem like fair game all around the world.

Image(from cheezburger.com)

When mom catches Jim stealing snacks from the fridge late at night.

Jim says “but Tom (his brother) did it last night.”

When Mr. Jack gets caught embezzling funds from The Under Privilege Project he laments that Mrs. Sprigman took $2,000 from the fund year before last.

It is a blame game.

No one wants to take responsibility for their wrong doings anymore.

Explosive

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As I stare blankly at my decorated wall,
It turned white; it is now a white wall.
I smiled gingerly to myself, White Hall reminds me of you.
I am finding you in structures.
This is CRAZY!!!
When I am online with you and ask certain questions my heart beats in the rhythm of a drum.
Drumming faster than a cheetah runs.

But I am scared as shit because I do not want my heart to break again.
I do not want to hear the sound of my heart crumpling as I struggle to paste out heartbeats that consume me that I wanted to live no more.
I do not want to cry, why should I, expressing emotions that make me vulnerable.
I will let it choke me inside and when it becomes unbearable, I will find me a quiet place.
There and only there will I unleash the Katrina that is inside
Let it rain on my parade, it will be okay because there will be no one cheering or booing me.
It is my parade; it is only for me, not onlookers.
There will be no one to see the way that my soul bleeds, that no bandage can hold its content.
No plaster can heal the wound that keeps oozing,
Believe me, it was not-self scarifications but the art is visible.
Not to the naked eye but to the looker who closely scrutinized the art or the being with the eye of an eagle and the outreach of the hawk.

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