How high do we go in the dark?
Or is it always down?
The depths of anguish
Deep depression
Heavy grieving
What if the darkness is merely a threshold?
A catalyst for changes that must happen?
A step that isn’t there
To support our heart-stopping air
A shift in vision of what was to be
To what is in this moment
Chastised for arriving at rejection’s door
Huddled in the clothing of innocence
The wailing lamentations of a heart
Breaking open to possibilities not yet named
Climbing out of the pit of despair
To observe the mountainous task
Unasked for
Recognized at last, not as a destination location
But a roadside attraction, a must see,
With the oddest of bedfellows
Now clothed in the light of new understanding.
Tag Archives: humanity
WORST HOLIDAY ALBUM EVER!
[DARK HUMOR ALERT]
As we enter the holiday season, there’s a new album that’s dropped and it’s AWFUL! I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything worse than this. Whatever you do, don’t listen to any of it. You’ll instantly regret it. The Hits keep coming.
At The Speed of What The Farts (Radio Edit)
Winter GTFO
- Dead Starter Blues
a. Sample Lyric: “Gonna take everything in my account, have to empty that dog out.” - Dying Dog (Euthenasia)
a. Sample Lyric: “She’s thirteen years old and blind as a bat, she can’t hear her name and she’s fading fast.” - Bed Bug Boogie
a. Sample Lyric: “I got welty itch from my head to my toes, that’s how the bedbug boogie goes.” - Bitterness and Regret
a. Sample Lyric: “The ailing heart showed up at my door, catheterized on the hospital floor.” - Monkey on His Back
a. Sample Lyric: “All my cash went up my nose, what I have left is my dirty clothes.” - So Many Leftovers, Nothing to Eat
a. Sample Lyric: “I’ve had so much corn chowder it waves hello, and warms up again for another go.” - Delerium
a. Sample Lyric: “Nine days have taken their toll on his brain. He now sounds like he’s not sane.” - The Boot
a. Sample Lyric: “Broken foot, faulty hip, growing old can kiss my grits.” - Never Ending Gray
a. Sample Lyric: “My love, the sun has gone away, I hope to see it again someday.” - The Darkest Christmas Tree
a. Sample Lyric: “This tree will never win awards until I find the farting extension cords.” - Presence
a. Sample Lyric: “Stuffs wrapped and under the tree, wondering who is there for me.” - Shitty Ditty
a. Sample Lyric: “Waking up in the middle of the night, discovering my fart took liquid flight.” - (BONUS TRACK) Cold Friends
a. Sample Lyric: “They used to laugh and joke a lot, but now they’re in a wooden box.” - AUTHOR’S NOTES:
This is written in originally Comic Sans for the simple reason that it’s an awful font. Everything on this “album” has happened during the past month to me or to my Bestie.
Pass it onward!
Homeostasis
Survival mode stepped to the side
Allowing an informal reprieve from chaos
An acknowledgement of mutual security
The stability that came to dinner
Pulled up a chair and feasted gluttonously
On a childhood fantasy for totemic inclusion
Seized the steadfastness of a kinship
Situated in a sprawled right relationship
Ladling the gravy of laughter over
Legendary stories of affinity
A communion of flavorful moments
Savored in a homemade assurance of loyalty
With an abundance of whipped cream
Pass it onward!
Daily Rituals
Kawphy Time and Morning Prayers
Each day I make a fresh cup of Kawphy (familial spelling handed down from my Grandfather (Bapa) on my mother’s side). I have one of my friends over, or I call my Bestie, or I call my mother before the first sip is tasted.
When my partner has their cup at the ready, I recite this prayer:
To your ancestors
To my ancestors
From my spirit
to your spirit
to OUR spirit
Thank you Grand Rapids Fire Department
Bless this holy water.
Context: My Great-Grandfather and my Grandfather both worked for the GRFD. It is common family belief that the next part of the ritual originated at their place of service.
Then we both take a noisy first sip and in unison say:
Ahhh, Nectar of the Gods!
The morning ritual is complete. I did this every day with my mother, but she doesn’t always remember. My Bestie has taken up the ritual as a way for us to start our day together.
Gratitudes
At the end of the day Jen, the aforementioned Bestie, would sit with her son and they would do “Gratitudes.” It’s a truly sweet ritual. One evening she was lamenting that her son had already gone to bed and asked if I’d do them with her.
Absolutely! We take turns sharing thing we’re grateful for either in our lives or during the day we’ve just had. I asked if we could do three external (meaning things that happened or we did) and one internal (positive things about who we are). She agreed.
Today, for example, I am grateful for my gift of wordsmithing, of being able to meet people where they are, for my friends, and for my parents still being available.
Once we’ve both stated the things, we complete the ritual with:
We are grateful for these things and so many more.
I wanted to share them with you because they’re important parts of my day. Which daily rituals do you honor? What helps you live the life you’re building with gratitude?
Pass it onward!
Campfire confessions
Grounding one’s heart
on the hearth of a campfire
recommitting branched souls to dust
smoldering with barely seen confessions
blazing with a lust to remain relevant
extinguished by time
returned to the mother
Pass it onward!
Rejuvenation
A walk in the wild wood timber
When the leaves have all blown down
The wintery wind whips omens
Of the King who’s lost his crown
No longer sanctified or honored
Or otherwise enshrined
The gloom embraces obscurity
Elemental slumber consigned
Deep beneath the gloaming soil
The spark of life remains
Guided by the ancient ways
A labor of growing pains
For when the woods again awaken
And the leaves return to green
The King will once again be born
His life, again, be seen
Pass it onward!
Revolution
The winds of change do not blow lightly
They are destructive, devastating, overwhelming
But they are necessary to create stronger; better
My feet are rooted in the mountain
My eyes are drinking in the sky
My arms are outstretched to embrace the shift
My thighs are heated for battle
My belly hungry for the crusade
My chest is bare, unafraid and unaffected
As I breathe in the promise of new dawn
I exhale revolution of heart and mind
Calling my sisters and brothers
As thunderous as a siren’s song
Into this life.
Into this body.
Into this time.
Pass it onward!
My nature
It is in my nature to return to nature
Nurturing my spiritual gifts
Reveling in loam and water
Allowing my soul to tendril
Deep into the rocky soil
Pulling the wisdom into my hands
Pushing out that which no longer serves
Light and dark are the same
Intuition singing a celestial choir
Feeling in my bones the pulsation
The undulation of the Universe
Welcoming the power that is mine
Acknowledging the sacrifices made
On my behalf before I was born
Into this life.
Into this body.
Into this time.
Pass it onward!
Love Showed Up
When I have been in darkest pain
Feeling I could not hope again
Love showed up.
When I felt lost and overwhelmed
Riding grief on a boat unhelmed
Love showed up.
When I’d thought my demon’s vanquished
But they roared to life, causing anguish
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my pain
But gently whispered, “Try again.”
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my trouble
It helped me to clean up the rubble
Love showed up.
It helped me navigate which way to travel
Clothing myself in threads unraveled
Love showed up.
Its compass pointed to my true north
Showing me how to sally forth
Love showed up.
It walked beside me on meandering paths
Teaching forgiveness for my past
Love showed up.
Pass it onward!
The Ashes of Nobody
The ashes of nobodies
(No bodies?)
Are in a mausoleum
Placed on a shelf
Without ceremony
As if life repeats itself in death
Held without specific honor
No proof of ancestry
Tracing roots back to the dust
They’ve returned to
without a name or with
unknown cause or suppos-ed
forgotten or lost
As if life repeats itself in death
No words to dress them in Saint’s clothes
A hurried end without recompense
Humbly offered words of worth
They did exist here on earth
They dreamed the dreams of all of us
But the shelter line was drawn too high
The cracks they fell into, too deep
As if life repeats itself in death
Mare Martell 