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Repentance

He sat there quietly eating his apple, well, as quietly as one could be while they are watching a hologram of their life. Abraham Claudius Invectrus, or Sam as he liked to be called, was in his compartment seat after … Continue reading

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Cloud of Doors, and Things to Open

i’m waiting on a cloud

i see a door

.

i move closer

one becomes three

.

i begin to wonder

which one to open

,

now another row’s behind them

.

.

.

one, has me mesmerized

it looks wise, worn wood

in my gaze, the word HABIT appears

it opens, ajar

.

i begin to move into it

before i realize this is where i am,

i freeze

standing, thinking, excitement prevails

in

an

instant i am anxious, afraid

fearful as to what comes next

.

.

i’m in my bedroom

all i see are the piles

clothes, enveopes to file, envelopes

to PAY NOW that had been left, always

on the top, so i’ll pay…

but now,

all i see is old,

yellowing,

how tired they look, they have given up

on me

i didn’t care enough to

hang up the dress jacket,

or stick the card i bought from MOMA

in a frame

.

.

i tire.

i need to sit.

i need to release the tension from my room.

.

i look around me, i see

the depression glass emeral green vanity tray,

the noritake candy dish that holds the pink ostrich

feather that gathers dust, two sterling button hooks,

pyramid shaped rocks, and the porcelain japanese hat-pin holder

all sitting ‘Just So’

this is a comfortable place

a memory of a time, a place, a circumstance

when i was last happy

with myself

.

.

a back door falls off it’s hinges

PROCRASTINATE begins to disappear

but now a wall appears

the arched opening commands attention

a cloud sign reads SURROUND YOURSELF WITH BEAUTY

.

to my right, a mausoleum

as i walk through it’s hallway,

i notice little doors, drawers really

they are lettered; pay, return form, cancel, throw away,

make appointment, call, send

.

this is my wall of procrastination and guilt

none of the door’s sit on the floor off it’s hinges

.

i will look again, tomorrow, it is getting late

.

as i leave, i see one larger door,

it reads

FEAR

it looks like a mood ring changing colours

as my emotions change

.

.

i tire.

i need to sit.

i need to release the tensions from that resting place.

.

as i walk away

i remember the lace that graced my dressing table

and the tablature, my shrine, is remembered

.

i smile.

i smile for holding that memory,

i smile for the one i’ve yet to create

.

.

three cherub muses encircle me

to tell me when a door has fallen,

these muses are named INITIATE, DISCIPLINE and

STRIVE

.

.

i have much to learn,

but it’s good to know that i have chrub muses

to guide me through these doors and other things to open

.

.

-dld o2.o2.11-

___________________________

the muse is in, prompt # 109

Facing The Demons That Lurk Up The Ladder, Step One

Climbing into the darkness. 
That’s how it always starts. 
I don’t know where I was beforehand,
 and I don’t know why I am pursuing that space above. 
My climb up always starts with ease and determination in step.
Right, left, right, left, right until I am left at the top rung. 
I hesitate.
.

That’s what I do when I’m uncertain of what to do next,
 of whether or not I should continue my march up. 
All I am sure of is the darkness, it is everywhere. 
Even when I’m not looking, I sense the chill
 and heaviness presses on my lungs. 
The chill that envelopes and squeezes. 
I don’t like the feelings I have here. 
.

I hesitate with trepidation, for myself and for what will become of me
 when I step beyond that which I am able to see. 
Progress can only be made when movement is forward,
 or to that place of unknowns in the dark. 
Progress can only be made when progression is achieved
over doing nothing,
but hesitate. 
.

It is a more complex entity, that space. 
It presents more to chew on. 
If you are hungry enough, you will forge your self, your feet, your mark. 
Moving on is not scarey, but entering a room,
 when before, I was only climbing up to an unknown, unseen space.
It is unexpected, and foreign and presents it’s own set of things to understand. 
.

I have gotten this far, yes, so I suck up all strengths that I once had 
and climb into that room. .

I stand alone,
.

as though a spotlight highlights my entry. 
Can it be sensed that I am filled with apprehension? 
Can it be that obvious?
 The light points out the fact that I am sweating. 
 The light shows that I am ill-at-ease.
.

I go no further and stand alone in a room filled with fear.
.

My fear to climb.
 Not a fear of darkness.
.

I am afraid to better myself, to go up,
 to grow.
I am afraid of success, afraid
to succeed at being anything that is different than how I am now,
 a mediocre bystander in the dark
 in a room filled with my fears.
.

.
-dld january last, 2011, and there will never be another
__________________________________________
ThinkingTen – On Location, Mondays: In a room filled with fear.