Crazy Real

the official blog of author and poet Jennifer Wilson

Month: September 2016

Knowing

Sometimes she knew
with absolute certainty
that her life
was going to end
in chaos and destruction
and in those moments
she felt 
a certain 
calm
resignation
to the inevitable
an unshakeable
apprehension
that
she had lived her life
true
to the imbalances
of her mind
and the instability
of her soul
and whoever held on
through the tempest
did so
freely
and being fully cognizant
of the hazards
involved
and with that
in mind
she opened her mouth
and drank deeply
from the
dark streams
that overflowed
her heart.

Newsworthy

The world’s
gone crazy
it seems
and all you hear
is how bad 
it is
wars and
pestilence
and planet earth
trembling
in anguish
reporters
eager
to tell the
worst
of what
is coming
but the news
crews
were not at
my house
when my 
five year old
did a
somersault
for the
first time
and smiled
eyes dancing
turning
his beaming
face
up 
to me.

Remembrance

There are
bruises you can’t 
remember getting
and pains
whose origins
you can’t recall
there are
rough patches
that used to be
smooth
and when 
did that happen?
blemishes
where once
purity reigned
not to mention
aches in the heart
from longings
long forgotten
but sometimes
the voice in your heart
whispers 
of those ages-dormant
yearnings
and that spark
that is buried
blows up 
full
and ready to devour
and then you feel
alive again
and ravenous
for life.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, tomorrow,
that wonderful word!
it’s marvelous, mystical,
not the least bit absurd
to think that the things
I ignore every day
will all get resolved
in some later way
for no matter how big
insurmountable seems
it’s never so bad
in those future dreams
tomorrow, tomorrow,
you’ll always be there
unwavering and constant,
and able to bear
the brunt of indolence
and all good intentions
the I’ll-get-to-it-laters
and procrastinations
tomorrow, tomorrow,
I’ll get to it when
tomorrow arrives
and not worry til then.

The End

Oh if I were
A tiny bird
I would not think
It all absurd
To flit and fly
From stem to sky
And worry not
and never cry

And if I were
A senseless thing
I’d never think
What days might bring
I’d rest beneath
A shady leaf
and never know
the hand of grief

To be so small
Inconsequential
Would be, to me,
Most providential
For I would stay
Out of the fray
And never care
From day to day

The goings-on
Of higher planes
Would never cause
Me any pain
I’d turn my back
And have no lack
In sunshine
Or in rain

Yet woe is me
Human I be
And as such
Cannot be so free
I seek and strive
To feel alive
And find that I
Can’t be so blithe

Yet some day now
Both large and small
Will find their end
Is all in all
the scythe will come
we’ll be undone
and fall to earth
as one 
by one

So life as dust
we’ll leave behind
we’ll shake it off
and never mind
then souls 
as winge’d things 
will soar
away from pain
forevermore.

Heaviness

There is a heaviness upon me
and it is not just the ten or so pounds
that I want to lose
there is
a density filling the gaps in my brain
where the synapses are supposed to fire freely
it weighs me down
fastens me firmly to the earth
though I long to fly
I would unhinge my skull
if I could
release the accumulated detritus
from the many long years
of self-incrimination and excoriation
watch it ooze away
into the sewer grates and drains
where it belongs
wash my brain clean
in the scattered rain showers that fall
in the late summer days
warm,
and wet,
and healing
and I would dance
in the puddles
of grey matter
overflowing
the edges of my head
lift my mouth
to the unburdened clouds
and know freedom.

 

© 2019 Crazy Real

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑

Bitnami