The Monster Inside My Head

There is no music to use as a lead in

To introduce the monster


That existence just relies upon a moment

A beautiful sunshiny day where the world


Responds with love and activity and sweet

Sounds and spirits of summer solace


Yet, inside lays a force of reckoning

So layered with practiced venom


To only reveal its self in angry lashings

Challenges to the serenity of positive airs


We look at fear with a certain lens of weakness

Brought upon by lack of focus, missing the verve


To ignite the soul to battle the energy of depression

That lays itself down to be met with submission


Such a powerful tool to rely upon for explanation

When nothing else will help define  my confusion


My soul is along for the ride always tucked away

Letting my mind wonder at the power of persuasion


When the pain becomes so overbearing I silently

Scream out of pure agony, then the soul comes alive


I’ll reckon the hours that have drifted out of control

And begin to rely upon a new waking day to help ease


The pain of loss, of helpless lacking strength to overcome

The talons, the icy walls of burden carved out in etchings


I will knock upon that door to allow the light to enter

In quiet realization, I will look towards God’s granted path


Until that moment arrives the sunlight streams in only to remind

Me of how just out of my grasp today’s happiness has held court.


A Bully Moment (Will There Be Shame)

Today’s ‘moment’

Came in a picture

A little boy

And I do mean little


Young enough to cry

Innocence that creates naïve

Mystery mixed in with the ugly

Reality of actions that may

Resonate throughout his

Remaining childhood


If childhood exists any longer


I see the boy standing

With a badge of dishonor

While mom ‘looms’ nearby

Not sure why

But I can’t see any humor

In her eyes

Though there is that pain

I can’t tell in the fuzziness

Of the glossed over moment

Whether there are tears

Or strains of rage


Someone took the photo

Who are they?

Family friend of torture

A passerby that knows no


Just wants to recognize

A display of pure ugliness


Who am I today

Another passerby

Noticing a moment

A little boy

Carrying a sign

With pain in his eyes

I wonder about him in ten years

When he reflects upon this day


Will there be shame?bully

I Wonder What I Look Like In Your Eyes

So often

I will ask

A classroom of students

What they see

When they

Look in a mirror


Really, just waking up


Facing a new day

Knowing people will look at them

But first

Who do they notice

Standing in front of the glass

The eyes connect immediately


When does the mind

Kick in

To offer fearful


When is it

That our bodies

Become the focal


When do we

Move beyond the eyes

And begin to contemplate

What others are already seeing


Miles away

They’re readying their


After all,

What we see is what they get


How we might twist words

To favor our own need

Our opportunity

To define

Who we are

Want to become


And then it begins

The walk through miles

Of eyes and quick, decisive


One simple corner of the eye

As you round a pillar

Might change an entire day’s

Course of action

That smile didn’t add up

To the telling outcome

In my mind


Instead our fears

Draw back the curtains

And anxiety steps

In while no longer do the eyes

Contain the soul.

Instead now we subject

Our selves

To another perception

We instead of internal

Safety zones

Allow our bodies exposure

To all of the elements



Windswept hallways

Filled with rough edged


That sweep the mind

With quick slicing talons

Of hurtful commentary

Where is our hope

Where lies the beauty

And grace of our own

Identified human condition


Look inside my eyes

And you can tell who I am

Because it is there that defines

The beauty and grace of


My passion is my need

To hope and love

And feel blessed with the

God-given ability

To love back without agenda

Simple, honest, truthImage

Stained Glass

Just a picture frame

Is all I can imagine


However small or gross

The pattern, the complexity

What reality exists

That helps design the scheme

Is it really patterned art

Or speaking to a moment?


When I glance at a piece of fabric

I can imagine there are designs

Addressed in the early concept

Of the sewn artistry

And remains is a visual

Definition of a time


Yet, falling back into the glass

Shattered remnants tossed together

Become the stained artifacts

That brought in piecework

Help organize time’s clarity


While an interpretation

Helps define a suggested

Path I wonder how easily

A cloth might grace

The texture

And leave no mark

Beside a previous notion


Stained glass

Words by Design

“I close my eyes only for a moment …”

Still life


I watch the skies every morning

And look fervently for a sign


Some drift in the clouds – a  pattern

I read about symbolism all the time


And listen while people suggest

The underlying meaning exists


Just what is it that I’m missing

Or do I already have the answer


That’s it isn’t it

We already know


We’re told the world is not meant to

Be figured out, analyzed, determined


Yet, I spent thousands on that guy

With the New England accent


I just listened

I guess I really


Didn’t hear anything that stuck with me

Like spectacles of ‘dust in the wind’


My life has taken a stroll

And everything I’ve lost


I have regained in a new design

The texture is different, soothing


To the touch. The icy edge I once felt

Has been polished over endless time


And while I might imagine a telling

Lyric from a favorite band in Kansas


Embrace, embody

Still life

Dust In The Wind. by *Anoxia-Photography deviantART Related / deviantID©2009-2013 *Anoxia-Photography

Dust In The Wind.
by *Anoxia-Photography
deviantART Related / deviantID ©2009-2013 *Anoxia-Photography

Wild Nights

The freedom to bend

Carrying our state of mind

Beyond what is typical

In-house behavior

You know the moment

When logic says good night

And everything lucid

Begins to blur itself

Along some new line

Of thought

Everything around seems to turn opaque

And lose its usual crystal luster


Our worlds are not that different

It just seems

There is the occasion

When we choose

To live within sane constraints

Rather then entertaining

Loose ends



One might argue

Especially you in the moment

One might defend

Their choice

To devalue normalcy

For the sake of the edge


Aren’t we always fighting

To maintain

That separation

That allow

Us to feel

To breathe

To appreciate

What lies beyond our grasp?


Is it that simple then that we can surmise

A true path of freedom is to fight the tarnished code


A technique in artistry

Raised impression


Brings a moment to life

We see the beauty


In a master’s hands

Elegant lines


Always a story

Being told


In Webster’s words

Or Collier


A comic moment

Is designed


To break the tension

Ease the mind


And today I glance freely

The western sky


And recognize the beauty

Of a common sunset


The relief of another day

Provides a setting


Tonight I appreciate beauty

In human kindness