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America Distressed

My America, the Eagle Distressed

To even contemplate that we, as a nation, are akin to an Eagle— one with the Freedom of the skies– to have the time, the Liberty, to speak about this noble bird in any manner with total impunity, without fear of mortal retribution or imprisonment, is absolutely the epitome of said Liberty, our Constitution eternal.

Yet, these very Freedoms that we have been given, and the idle time for such contemplation, has placed our nation in distress. Our nation, the majestic Eagle, appears to be tearing itself apart.

The left wing bites at the right wing,
right wing pulls off feathers from the left wing,
Until not enough remain and our Eagle nation flounders

Meanwhile, vultures gather hungrily,
waiting, watching the sky for discarded wingbits–
hoping that they’ll get more than pieces.

Where the vultures lurk, we do not wish to go.
We do not wish to be ripped apart and subjugated to Theocratic rule,
intestines bared and bones scattered.

I wish that we all would look past our own feathers,
if only for a minute,
and relish the heights that we have gained.

I pray, I meditate on the words set forth in our grand contract: “[no person shall] be deprived of life, liberty or property without due process.” So, think again if you desire to pluck the vane from the feather on the other wing, even if it seems to not belong with your own. “ALL persons born or naturalized in the United states… are citizens of the United States.”

Shall we climb higher or go to the vultures domain?
Shall our words lift the other wing, even with respectful dissent?
Or Shall we continue to pluck out that which offends until there are only vanes of the same colour?
Can we afford to ignore that we indeed, The Left Wing and Right wing,
are essential if our great nation is to stay in Flight?

I’ll Call You Later

Yesterday, you, my American friends

Stood up for our rights to this land
We worked hand in hand
To fight and disperse ISIS
Together, we established safety and prosperity
Today, with a tweet, you left
And in your place our enemies rushed in
Killing our journalists, melting our children
Chaos and destruction
Fear and annihilation
Tomorrow, we must leave this land.
This land that we fought so hard to keep.
Where are you now my friend
when we need you the most?
Why have you forsaken us?

Not My Suicide

*trigger warning* 
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one sitting on the couch
The world digging into my heart
tears streaming down my face
no, no more tears
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one holding my head in my hands
Fearing my own thoughts
Breaths coming quickly
breathe, just breathe
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one lining pill bottles on the table
researching the MLDs
wondering how much time is left
Time, no more time
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one drinking a second bottle of wine
pondering my very existence
Will I be missed?
Hope, no more hope.
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one holding the knife
pressing metal to flesh,
tearing into veins;
blood, so much blood
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one on the phone
calling for a lifeline
wondering if anyone can help
Help, just help
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one climbing into the ambulance
answering 50 questions
losing consciousness
Lost, just lost
 
This can’t be me
I’m not the one waking up in the hospital
missing whole days
wondering where I’ve been
alive, just alive
That couldn’t have been me
I’m not the one near the end
my story is not finished;
I persevere
life, sweet life
Image

Bipolar Diamante

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Sand

Failures:

When one door closes,

Another one opens.

A broken heart bleeds

Just for a little while

Then oozes memories for eternity.

Step by Step one moves forward,

But by looking back at the footprints,

One sees the clear path one must tread.

In the sand, the shifting sand,

The waves crashes over the foot etches

Washing the hard lines away.

Forgiveness.

Bipolar Diamante

Summer’s End

But the darkness still lurks behind the shadows of my smiles
and the chasm still lingers just beyond my tattered toes
and the voices still whisper their damning cacophony
and the end of everything still creeps just beneath my skin
Dare I give in?
Dare I listen?
Dare I glance?
Dare I feel?
Dare I sing the song I’ve sung before?
All is waiting for summer’s end.

Global Warming

Ice melts
Sea level rises
polar bears disappear
Oceans acidify
Coral bleaches
Beaches disappear
hurricanes intensify
floods deluge
homes disappear
Fire consumes
beetles populate
forests disappear
drought grows
air temperature rises
water disappears
Famine spreads
diseases abound
food disappears
Politicians argue
Warning signs ignored
Humans disappear

Grounded

Disappointment is met when eyes open
With the sun, discovery of humaness
Not fairy-like after all
No sparkling wonderness
Soaring above the Earthly plane
But mundane drudgery
sick with ordinary human condition
Grounded

The Rise and Fall of the Fairy Queen: My Bipolar Journey

The Rise and Fall of the Faerie Queen, My Bipolar Journey

 

People have inquired about my personal journey through the extremes my illness brings.

Let me elaborate.

Right now, in this moment, I own success.  My feet are grounded upon the Earth I was born.

Yet, often I desire to be more than myself, to be better, grander– magical.

The only caveat is I must let the elixir of strength and wellness seep from my daily cup.

Only thus-seemingly so, so simple, yet profound.

This temptation to ascend to the high places, to cast away my mere humanity, eats away at my resolve, bit by bit.

Until, one day, I give in and set aside my daily pill.

At first, nothing happens.  Why would it?  Who but the sick need to take such bitter daily droughts?

More days pass- elixir forgotten, resolve long chipped away until it exits no more.

Soon, life’s toils are easier to bare, smiles easier to wear.

Feet no longer on meager ground, but standing in the clouds;

I succumb to the glorious promise the elixirless world offers.

 

And I transform into the Faerie queen,

Glittery Green and sparkling Gold.

I ascend to my lunar throne, gravity no longer pulling me down.

My magic enables feats of super fae proportions-

Novels appear, ideas and plans reproduce into grand schemes.

They go off into my land singing my praises,

“Look, see this shining soul?  Isn’t she the picture of health? She didn’t need the sooth-sayer’s cure after all.”

In a short span, these bright birthed plans have assembled a court of sentient admirers, clambering for my presence,

offering hedonistic experiences and endless resources.

I look down upon the Earthly realm and revel in this weightlessness, this ease of creation.

All is perfection.

 

But, my own admirers, my well formed schemes, start jealous whispers-

rumors of cracks and faults in my pearlescent  walls.

I attempt to banish them, but they clasp on, one by one, until I cannot see above them or around them, and I must be hypervilligent of their barbs.

Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day; no rest or succor in sight.

No escape from the schemes and plans and seemly courteous thoughts-

Now abandoned of sentience and clamped upon inch of coppery skin.

 

Until-

I fall from this gallant throne,

fall not to Earth

but past it, beat upon meteors and rocky rivers,

Until my feet crash through Jupiter’s atmosphere.

This hyper gravity strips away my wings and fairy crown.

I now must swim through leaded air as a mere mortal-

Nay, a sub mortal with empty sycophant schemes dangling from ashen skin.

My eyes only see a few meters beyond myself in this graphene muck and mire.

Gravity, who once lifted my wings and helped me soar above in the lunar land,

now adds a triple weight to every breath.

Every action, every motion forward is stolen by this massive weight.

Until, I can move no more.

 

Alive, but deadened in this Jovian Hell.

Not free to escape, but free to ponder my release.

What release is possible?

What path may lead back to Earth,

back to the human realm?

In this moment, my once grand courtiers, schemes and plans reanimate;

they scream devious paths, knives, and chemical concoctions.

“Cut us off- dare not take a breath, End this leadened rule!

Stop this existence;

You must – you must!

You abandoned all; you are alone.

Hope is lost.”

And I close my eyes.

Still…. Still… waiting for the nothing.

 

Yet, I hear a faint jingle penetrating the Jovian air.

A soft hand lifts my head and I open my eyes

to find the order of white knights, snake-crossed and succor full,

offering soft words of wisdom and capsules of elixir.

I drink and a doorway appears.

Dare I enter?  Dare I cast off this beastly burden?

Hands appear from beyond the crossing-

hands of friendships forgotten and valiant mental warriors

beckoning for me to just lift my arms and grab a hold.

Do I?  Do I trust the help unlooked for?

Do I continue to drink the elixir

and allow the hands to carry me through?

 

Yes, I grab hold.

Inch by inch, step by step,

I am pulled through the passageway.

As I cross through the portal,

these hands pluck off the misguided plans, schemes and sychophants.

Wise words guide my bleeding soles to Earthly soil

and a glint of hope kindles,

blazing away hyper Jovian gravity.

I am just me, yet again.

 

And I declare my promises to stay grounded.

To accept the Earthly realm as my only home.

Not to stray- to listen to Wisdom;

not to quit the elixir mending my heart and soul.

In this acceptance is solace.

For without, I shall surely rise to greater and greater heights complete grander and greander feats,

and fall further and further

until I disintegrate and there are not the pieces to patch together into a whole.

 

I choose hope over dazzle,

Strength over magic,

And wellness over exuberance.

 

I choose me.