As a fallen angel,

wings stripped of their feathers

by the demons from my mind’s hell

my strength slowly withers.

But I will rebuild my wings

with every new feather

adds a new page to the rings

that bind my book of leather.

This book of mine

tells the story of redemption

over the course of time

as I battle my depression.

The demons take my pen

and tell me to just stop trying,

to just give in

and get busy dying.

However I steal the pen back

before I can doubt

and numb myself black

to block them out.

This book of feathers is my mission

my scarred skin makes its bind

my blood of crimson iron inks its inscription

my bone makes its spine.

By finishing this book before I die

I hope these pages put together

will rebuild my wings and let me fly

so I can show all my book of feathers.

#poetry

#writing

#challenge

Take the way your heart yearns

How can it beat otherwise?

Even now the anticipation

Raises hopes you thought perished

Only consider for a second

All the steps behind you

Delight in the now and to come

-Taliesin

the girl swam the tides

of a broken building,

a home.

she fought mother nature,

tooth and bone,

and stilts and sand-

all waterborne.

the current carried away

the girl,

broke the home,

and unearthed the story she told

with layers of granite and wooden floor.

and that story held more words than he could ever have known.

I can't guarantee you that more pieces won't be left at your feet for you to collect the next time you dive into something with your whole heart. What I can guarantee you is that you'll sabotage healing all the internal chaos by trapping your emotions and closing yourself off to authentic emotional experiences and connections. It's easier to withdraw, to stay guarded, to refuse everyone access (yourself, too). You reject light that tries to enter your stubborn pathways when you're hurting because you'd rather simmer in the darkness.

"I trust the night more than I trust the day." — Melissa Tripp

The truth is, pain overstays its welcome. Your heart feels like a thousand knives so you don't bother with a pulse. You don't care to reconnect because it's the connections you've hosted in your heart that have cut you the deepest. Find more productive ways to approach it (pain), to process it, to feel it, to share it. Let it water you where you hurt the most. Because, you'll grow from this.

Photo credit: veeterzy

Its stranger now

But comfier

I guess i have

Attained one of my goals.

I feel my heart raging

Quaking, itching

Begging for release

Like ticking bomb

Like bursting drum.

My sanity grits its teeth

Not in despair, nor frustration

But in excited agitation

Rejoicing, almost in melody~

I look at myself

Once more, for review,

My face is stoic— I can't feel it

My voice is calm— I hear it,

Rush of warmth — is contained

No higher than my lungs—

No trace, no mud, no sleeves to cover with

There are no evidences, it is a perfect crime,

Ah, but It still isn't perfect

Under the blanket sheets

Although my eyes do not betray me anymore,

Tears rush down like faucet—

I drink it quietly once more,

As I wait for the drought.

Robots turned humans

Humans turned robots

That's how brave the world has become

At the end of our unthinkable discoveries

We shall witness that

There are more frictional characters to be loved

Than real people surrounding us

And that's how sluggish the world has become

Christmas Vacation in the Old Days

October 18, 2017

Memories of our childhood at Christmas time. Sixty five years ago are quite different than it is today. 

We were on Christmas vacation from school. We four  got to sleep about one half hour longer than usual. Soon we alerted to get up, dressed warm and go out and take care of the animals and the chores.

Snow had fallen even more than the day before. 

One of the adults made a few paths to the wood pile, coal bin and on out to the animal quarters.

We knew after breakfast we were going to do some heavy shoveling. This happened before we got to go out and enjoy our two week vacation.

After tending the animals and other chores we came back indoors. A warm hearty breakfast lingering a bit hoping the sun would melt the snow. That was a pipe dream and did not happen.

We were asked  to bundle and gear up then collect the shovels so  we could clear the driveway. 

The  “L O N G”  driveway was  where at least a dozen cars or trucks could fit in a straight line down the middle.

With a lot of kids and an  adult that was not at work we got that all done pretty fast, well, within two hours that is. We also took a little time to make a few snow balls and cream each other laughing all the time.

We were all called inside where we took off our coats, scarves, hats and gloves.  We hung the wet clothes  in the backroom on the inside clothes line to dry near the roaring furnace. 

Next we sat at the kitchen table near the fireplace for hot chocolate.  Hershey’s brand cocoa, milk, a bit of sugar with a pinch of salt then slowly cooked in a double boiler.  Next it seemed like dozens of Oatmeal  and Molasses cookies were placed in front of us to have as many as we desired.  

After about an hour we bundled up again and went out to build snowmen or forts. If the snow got slushy enough we went out front. The depression in the side yard along the driveway dipped down enough to make a rink. Smoothing  the slush all around we groomed it as flat as possible. The next morning it was  frozen enough for us to don our ice skates and play ice hockey to our hearts content.

We were pretty cold and hungry by then. After doing some little chores,  tending to the outside animals food, water and other needs. We brought  in wood and coal for the furnace. We all piled indoors for warm homemade  soup and sandwiches for lunch.  After lunch we played board games, read books or put a puzzle together.

Later on that evening after doing the same chores we had a nice warm dinner. We all piled up into the car and went off to look at all the Christmas lights  all around the neighborhood . 

The Nativity scenes, hand  made and painted were brought out every year. and put in a prominent place with a shining light on them for all to see.  If the driver was not too tired we would venture into the nearest town and look at the city kids light displays.  Their houses seemed to have bigger displays with more lights than us kids in the country. The in town  decorations were store bought. More sparkly  as ours were. Country  farm tractors were  lit up with a single string of lights that did not blink. The   trees in town were not real trees. Store bought trees  were  perfectly shaped. whereas ours were alive growing in the yard. Some people used  real cut down trees. There were  mismatched limbs.  We always seemed to have fun  decorating the gaps of the trees beautifully in our eyes.

Seeing the lights all lit up was a favorite thing to do back then.

Now you plug in a color “wheel” and set it in the front yard throwing a light on a wall, bush or tree. That’s suppose to  be a decoration along with the blow up Santa, reindeer and snowmen that leak air in a few days. 

No malls to go to or electronic games back then, not even talking on the one phone attached to the wall. We were happy and we grew up not at all deprived.

Our Christmas vacation was so much fun that we even remember sixty five years later.

©Julia A Knaake