The Valuable Time of Maturity (borrowed)

I counted my years

and realized that

I have less time to live by,

than I have lived so far.

I have more past than future.

I feel like that boy who got a bowl of cherries.

At first, he gobbled them,

but when he realized there were only few left,

he began to taste them intensely.

I no longer have time to deal with mediocrity.

I do not want to be in meetings where flamed egos parade.

I am bothered by the envious,

who seek to discredit the most able,

to usurp their places, coveting their seats,

talent, achievements and luck.

I do not have time for endless conversations,

useless to discuss about the lives of others

who are not part of mine.

I no longer have the time to manage

sensitivities of people who despite their chronological age, are immature.

I hate to confront those that struggle for power,

those that ‘do not debate content, just the labels’.

My time has become scarce to debate labels,

I want the essence.

My soul is in a hurry …

Not many cherries in my bowl,

I want to live close to human people, very human,

who laugh of their own stumbles,

and away from those turned smug

and overconfident with their triumphs,

away from those filled with self-importance.

The essential is what makes life worthwhile.

And for me, the essentials are enough!

Yes, I’m in a hurry.

I’m in a hurry to live with the intensity that only maturity can give.

I do not intend to waste any of the remaining cherries.

I am sure they will be exquisite, much more than those eaten so far.

My goal is to reach the end satisfied

and at peace with my loved ones and my conscience.

And per Confucius “We have two lives

and the second begins when you realize you only have one.”

Poem: Mário de Andrade - The Valuable Time of Maturity

what took you so long?

my brain and

heart divorced

a decade ago

over who was

to blame about

how big of a mess

I have become

eventually,

they couldn't be 

in the same room

with each other 

now my head and heart 

share custody of me

I stay with my brain 

during the week

and my heart 

gets me on weekends

they never speak to one another

 

    - instead, they give me

the same note to pass

to each other every week 

and their notes they

send to one another always 

says the same thing:

"This is all your fault"

on Sundays

my heart complains

about how my 

head has let me down

in the past

and on Wednesday

my head lists all

of the times my 

heart has screwed

things up for me 

in the future

they blame each

other for the 

state of my life

there's been a lot

of yelling - and crying

so,

    lately, I've been

spending a lot of 

time with my gut

who serves as my

unofficial therapist

most nights, I sneak out of the

window in my ribcage

and slide down my spine

and collapse on my 

gut's plush leather chair

that's always open for me

~ and I just sit sit sit sit

until the sun comes up

last evening, 

my gut asked me

if I was having a hard

time being caught 

between my heart

and my head

I nodded

I said I didn't know

if I could live with 

either of them anymore

"my heart is always sad about

something that happened yesterday

while my head is always worried

about something that may happen tomorrow," 

I lamented

my gut squeezed my hand

"I just can't live with

my mistakes of the past

or my anxiety about the future,"

I sighed

my gut smiled and said:

"in that case, 

you should 

go stay with your 

lungs for a while,"

I was confused

  - the look on my face gave it away

"if you are exhausted about

your heart's obsession with

the fixed past and your mind's focus

on the uncertain future

your lungs are the perfect place for you

there is no yesterday in your lungs

there is no tomorrow there either

there is only now

there is only inhale

there is only exhale

there is only this moment

there is only breath

and in that breath

you can rest while your

heart and head work 

their relationship out."

this morning,

while my brain

was busy reading

tea leaves

and while my

heart was staring

at old photographs 

I packed a little

bag and walked

to the door of 

my lungs

before I could even knock

she opened the door

with a smile and as

a gust of air embraced me

she said

"what took you so long?"

   ~ john roedel (johnroedel.com)

Then there's this

Angry, so much anger I dare not speak.

Disbelief,  unable to comprehend the stupidity of it. 

You know you were wrong, you knew there would be a backlash, 

But you went ahead

You just didn't care.

And you won't apologise. You fail to see how much hurt, how much damage, how far this will reach. 

This is the start of the end. 

This is a slippery slope with no hope of recovery. 

Point of no return. This is where my heart starts breaking. 

Your Silence

I hear your silence, 

I feel your absence as much as the needed rain.

I won't persuade you, 

My intention is, as always,  to never cause you unwanted pain.

The years don't matter, 

As time runs out, the gap should close, I wish it would. 

I hear your silence, 

Life will continue, clocks will not stop, the tides will turn, my love will linger, as all stories should. 

The future of us.

There is nothing we share anymore.

He has no passion for the things I love.

No dreams, no goals, no plans in common. 

He has moved from a necessity to a mild convenience. 

So mild, in fact, it could be called an inconvenience, 

a temporary disruption. 

And for for the first time in a very long time, I don't care. 

I don't feel despair. 

I no longer feel scared.

A little bit trapped, 

But no longer afraid.

My future is mine alone. 

Mine to plan. 

Mine to look forward to.

my words

Thoughts in my head 

Feelings, ideas, plans. 

Writing them down is never easy. 

Articulating almost impossible. 

Dreams in my head

Wanting, needing, yearning. 

Taking them to fruition is never easy. 

Living them almost impossible. 

Words in my head

Bursting, screaming a whisper. 

These are my words, these are dreams, these are my thoughts. 

Dying to get out. 

work in Progress

Where does she go?

The crisp and cold morning bought relief from the darkness of night, 

Numbing her fingers and nursing her thoughts. 

Her dreams were not her friends today. 

Disturbed and distressed. 

A new plan is now needed. 

A new future.

A new everything. 

She cannot think, 

Creativity has abandoned even her darkest moments. 

Why has she allowed him to rob her of all her passion?

Feeling timid , feeling sad.

And oh, so lonely. 

No good in Goodbye

Where's the "good" in "goodbye"?
Where's the "nice" in "nice try"?
Where's the "us" in "trust" gone?
Where's the "soul" in "soldier on"?
Now I'm the "low" in "lonely"
'Cause I don't own you only
I can take this mistake
But I can't take the ache from heartbreak

There's an "art" in breaking hearts
But there's no fair in farewell.

Taken from lyrics from the Script. 

very dark

I'm in a dark space,

Thinking thoughts I've never thought. 

My heart is sad, my mind is weary 

So weary, so bleak, so frought. 

No future to hope for.

No sunny horizon. 

Nobody to speak to. 

No-one holding my space. 

What is left for this lifetime?

Nothing to hold, 

Nobody worthwhile. 

My world imploding -

No warming,  just cold. 

I'm all out of asking, 

I'm all out, so all out.

Just can't anymore, 

HELP ME!!!!

Half

“Do not love half lovers

Do not entertain half friends

Do not indulge in works of the half talented

Do not live half a life

and do not die a half death

If you choose silence, then be silent

When you speak, do so until you are finished

Do not silence yourself to say something

And do not speak to be silent

If you accept, then express it bluntly

Do not mask it

If you refuse then be clear about it

for an ambiguous refusal is but a weak acceptance

Do not accept half a solution

Do not believe half truths

Do not dream half a dream

Do not fantasize about half hopes

Half a drink will not quench your thirst

Half a meal will not satiate your hunger

Half the way will get you no where

Half an idea will bear you no results

Your other half is not the one you love

It is you in another time yet in the same space

It is you when you are not

Half a life is a life you didn't live,

A word you have not said

A smile you postponed

A love you have not had

A friendship you did not know

To reach and not arrive

Work and not work

Attend only to be absent

What makes you a stranger to them closest to you

and they strangers to you

The half is a mere moment of inability

but you are able for you are not half a being

You are a whole that exists to live a life

not half a life”

Gibran Khalil Gibran

Don't miss me more than once a day.

DON’T MISS ME MORE THAN ONCE A DAY

Don’t miss me more than once a day,

For life is moving fast.

Don’t wish all of your time away,

Dreaming of the past.

Don’t waste the moment looking at,

The things I left behind me.

I’m not there anymore my love,

Your heart is where you’ll find me.

Don’t dread to say my name, sweet one,

Don’t fear the wrath of sadness.

Just take the love you had for me,

And turn it into gladness.

Some days your anger will rush out,

Your tears will find their way.

To me, wherever I am then,

I’ll soothe them all away.

When I am gone don’t miss me more,

Than once, or twice a day.

There’s so much life to live, my love.

I’m with you, all the way.

Beautifully written by Donna Ashworth