markiv1111

I;m feeling extremely overwhelmed

markiv1111 — Wed, 25 Jun 2014 22:13:42 GMT

I;m feeling extremely overwhelmed at this point and I really need people to help. There's no huge sofa and most of my stuff comes apart into sections that aren't that heavy, just bulky, and requiring two people to move.

I can just imagine myself trying to work out a way to do it all myself, but I don't want to. I already have sore arms from moving boxes arond in the house. I'm not supposed to be doing this all by myself., It'll cripple me were I to try.

I can't load boxes until the bigger pieces of furniture have ben put in; I can't really move furniture by myself, so until I get a person or two to help, I'm kind of stuck.

I had a husband who promised not to ever leave me again who should be here helping me, but he ruined that. I've been driven nearly mad with grief and loss and I NEED HELP!!!

You only have an hour to give, please give it. Tonight?
Tomorrow night? This weekend?

POST A NEW COMMENT

THE POD HAS COME!!!

markiv1111 — Wed, 25 Jun 2014 17:54:05 GMT

James and I would like some help loading it. Any time afternoon and evening until its done.

I;m feeling extremely overwhelmed at this point and I really need people to help. There's no huge sofa and most of my stuff comes apart into sections that aren't that heavy, just bukly, and requiring two people to move.

I can just imagine myself trying to work out a way to do it all myself, but I don't want to. I already have sore arms from moving boxes arond in the house. I'm not supposed to be doing this all by myself., It'll cripple me were I to try.

I can't load boxes until the bigger pieces of furniture have ben put in; I can't really move furniture by myself, so until I get a person or two to help, I'm kind of stuck.

I had a husband who promised not to ever leave me again who shold be here helping me, but he ruined that. I've been driven nearly mad with grief and loss and I NEED HELP!!!you only have an hour to give, please give it. Tonight?
Tomorrow night? This weekend?

MOVING!!!

markiv1111 — Wed, 25 Jun 2014 00:26:10 GMT

Can anyone help James and I load our POD? It arrives sometime tomorrow and will be here until we have finished loading, probably in a week to ten days, depending on how much help we get. I have osteoarthritis, so I can't do a lot of lifting. James has developed back issues, so I really need some help.

Trying to make sense of the senseless doesnt work

markiv1111 — Thu, 19 Jun 2014 22:16:34 GMT

meat market

see the cuts

apart from the dross

piles of memories slaughtered

to extract what has not been ruined

wrap the good and freeze it

try not to slip and fall

where blood and organs

lay spilled

in the abattoir

years wait for dispatch

nervous but clueless

take this one now

it is fat and full

overfed by

love's fancy

falters as the end

rises to free it

a life

pictures posed and wrong

letters filled with lies

songs that shaped the days

undue roughness

wretched faith

fighting to survive

step to the block

take it all for given

take it all

blood is truth

futures plain

foretell how feeling

lied with words

killed with wicked spite

took in hand

helpless love

put it in line

with all the others

ready for it's demise

along with honor

hope pulls back

faith struggles

love expires

life escapes

resolve remains
it is enough

to know this path

leads away from it

leaving behind memories

smeared with gore

fit for flies

and dogs

Distancing

markiv1111 — Mon, 16 Jun 2014 05:04:24 GMT

distancing

shrug instead of struggle

waste no effort on the problem

simply say that now

is the time to turn away

from sadness

disavow bad company

disconnect from strife

destroy self doubt

describe yourself

so if it happens

that you are found

not fighting the fight

not arming yourself

against an foe

in whose light

you once warmed yourself

smile and turn away

to other better things

living on your own terms

loving yourself

faithfully

smile and shrug

saying nothing

laugh and leave it

it is enough that you

see your way

absence

markiv1111 — Sat, 07 Jun 2014 17:25:41 GMT

sifting

sighing while

drifting down days

freed from foul influence

reviving, lifting into light

leave it here

unsullied unsung unruined

desire demands

where it cannot reach

locked unloved

unclaimed

lost beauty

counted cost untold

coldly calculated

forget for me

forlorn love

forsworn promises

pray provide protect

prick of conscience

corellaries cascade

restful shadow

receding

chill truth

nil meaning

only this:

begone all barriers

belief buds

burst to unfurl

new mind

new life

now

Changing my mind

markiv1111 — Thu, 29 May 2014 17:27:17 GMT

Note: I'm reposting this as I meant this to be a public post.

These days I have a lot of work to do; the hardest work I am doing involves changing my mind. I have been locked in emergency mode for almost two years now. Now that the train wreck that was my life has been largely cleared from the tracks, I am working towards a new life in which the only direction will come from within myself.

Yeah, it hurt a lot to lose something valuable, but it hurt even more to learn that the thing I lost wasn't real, after all. that's my past. I'm packing up the past and sending it off to remote storage where I will try to leave it without much thought. Isolating the pathological thoughts like, ";Oh, I can't live with out _______________." I want to live and I can't live with that kind of nonsense in my life. If it was just fun nonsense, like years ago, I'd go on with it. It's over and done. No more debate, no more doubts, no more fresh starts for that aspect of my life. I know enough of the truth now to know that I don't want to know any more.

Eight or nine weeks ago, I really felt like I couldn't handle the loss of family and the loss of home. Now I know something I didn't really know two months ago; I deserve to be treated with consideration and respect. I knew this on an intellectual level, but I did not know the emotional reality of it.

What I am losing is pain, doubt, grief and anger. These things may linger in the periphery of my mind, but they will lose their ability to hold me back, and eventually, they will be gone. The context of my life needs to change radically so that I can renew contact with my muses. I have been writing a lot in the last couple of years; I thought it was a good substitute for seeing a therapist. While it was better than nothing, it couldn't pull me out of the self-destructive vortex I allowed myself to get sucked into.

Changing my mind means not living in a state of constant doubt and tension; changing my mind means giving up things that hold me back and beat me down. It means simply not letting people get to me to the point that I lose part of my identity in a struggle to be heard and understood. It means uncompromising self examination and unstinting adherence to my core values.

It has taken me too long to get where I am now, and I will not let anybody or anything stand in my way.

breathing

markiv1111 — Wed, 14 May 2014 16:54:09 GMT

breathing is something i can do

a tonic for my shattered nerves

i'll find a legend straight and true

to see beyond the unknown curves

this road i'm on i did not choose

the map i read was skewed and wrong

but i am breathing as i cruise

that is enough to keep me strong

i will inhale the freshening wind

on my shoulder sun will shine

all the gifts of life are pinned

to this breathing that is mine

take a step in time with life

move ever outward and away

from senseless avarice and strife

and i will own this brand new day

markiv1111 — Tue, 06 May 2014 05:20:48 GMT

waste

decayed forage

smell the rot

once the dog in the manger

has ruined for good

what once was

precious

the poison frog

is pretty

fatal charm

make an impression

of it's image

remember

but do not touch

jungle logic
leads to carnage

retreat in darkened

places

there it is

the room to rest

cool and quiet

remember the loss

but count

memories

sadness in loss

sick with sorrow

some things

we were better off

not knowing

Louie Spooner Bucklin copyright 2014

Progress

markiv1111 — Sat, 03 May 2014 22:55:18 GMT

My situation is no different, but my thinking has changed. Last night I was thinking about Nate and myself, and I followed down the thought 'what if Nate changes his mind again and want to be with me and James'.

A few weeks ago I still hung on to what I had been telling Nate "You will always have a home with me. I will never give up on you." I've had the intellectual realisation of that being stupid a number of times in the last year. It was an addictive relationship, I knew that, too. Addiction is hard to recover from.

Last night I told myself " That's insane. After all the times he's run away, and after the promises he made at Thanksgiving, I would have to be completely out of my mind to let him get near me again." Part of my recovery, just like with drug addicts, is staying away from the people and places where I associated with him, and staying away from him.

I can imagine a chorus of hurrahs both from those who are being supportive, and those who wish that I would never again show up at certain places. I know I've been angry, and gave voice to that anger. That's the way I am when people f**k with me.

This does not mean that I will never again attend a MinnStf meeting or a Minicon. It means that right now, I don't want to take the chance that I will be exposed to the thing to which I am addicted.

It also doesn't mean that I am ashamed of anything I've said or done, it's not an admission of guilt, and it sure as hell isn't an apology to those who actively interfered with my marriage.

I practiced in my head what I might say to him if he were to ask to get back together. I felt the anger that would have to hold me steady; I told myself that this was the right way to think, and, while anger may not be a good thing in and of itself, it's a helluva lot better than wanting to kill myself.

I'm getting stronger, and I don't plan on backsliding.

Reattribution

markiv1111 — Thu, 06 Mar 2014 18:44:27 GMT

'Have you ever been the victim of online gossip, rumors or out and out defamation? I'd like to hear from all of you an share experiences with you. If you are still hurting or if you still have wreckage in your life due to this kind of thing, and don't want to post, PM me.

I especially would love to hear from those in the fannish community.

It's been brought to my attention that personal judgement is to often based on hearsay and reattribution. Reattribution is what happens when someone hears something about you, then reaches back in memory and rebrands things that happened or things that they heard in the past, and uses those things to justify condemning someone in the present. This is often, but not always, used to castigate someone unfairly.

Have you been subjected to unfair treatment based on reattribution? Have you employed reattribution unfairly against someone else?

Tweaked a bit

markiv1111 — Thu, 06 Mar 2014 04:45:38 GMT

it was a plain conspiracy

blackening my name

the story told was icy cold

my repute to defame

how do words go when they go?

do they travel on their own?

heard and changed and passed along

til a brand new tale has grown

no matter what I did or said

the damage done was real

no effort spared yet no one cared

to wonder how i'd feel

it started with a word or two

abusive and controlling

around they flew although untrue

gained speed as they were rolling

passing on from mouth to ear

and growing worse with time

two spiteful words that flew like birds

described a heinous crime

abusive and controlling

then violent and and depraved

for good or ill find what you will

i know how i behaved

the lie was spoken softly

the meaning took it's own

repeated ever louder

in grief and volume grown

and i did protest many times

but no one stopped to hear

my protests did no good at all

the meaning was quite clear

the crime still stands uncharged

though I've paid for all the rest

but i will vanquish my own doubts

and master every test

i'll never let them break me down

the way they did that night

they put themselves between us

and you know it's not right

defamed and judged behind my back

i'll never understand

how folks who knew me forty years

could turn against me and

throw me out where I belonged

and treated second-rate

forcibly separated from

the one who is my mate

some of you took pleasure

in my struggle and in my tears

i hope you'll know the truth someday

and realize that my tears

were as much for you as for myself

i wished that i could reach you

and let you know i understand

but you won't let me teach you

I have to laugh now when I think

i wasted all those tears

and who believes or doesn't

won't matter after years

the job's ill done;but trust me

it's all behind me now

you'll think what you want to think

when all has passed somehow

for its a joke on all of us

your words fly out your mouth

and into someone else's ears

heading ever south

and before you know i'm satan

i'm the criminal in the dark

i'm the freaking antichrist

i'm the lurker in the park

beware my fearsome weaponry

the words, the tears, the love

how dangerous can a woman be

when that's what she's made of

hope and faith, love and trust

she held to those straight through

the darkest days of all her life

and now she says to you

i live my life as if in prayer

i love with all my heart

and if you know a better way

then tell me how to start

can you right the wrongs done

or can you heal the hurts

i'd gladly take the treatment

and yet my mind asserts

i did the best i could, you know

i took the best advice

i tried to help the one i loved

and stumbled once or twice

the lie was spoken softly

the meaning took it's own

repeated ever louder

in grief and volume grown

and i did protest many times

but no one stopped to hear

it was no good, my protests

the meaning was quite clear

no perfect way to end it

no easy way to heal

no repayment for the loss

just the end of a rotten deal

Louie Spooner Bucklin copyright 2014

A purpose

markiv1111 — Thu, 03 Oct 2013 02:24:34 GMT

I deleted this for a day or so beause I didn't want to overdose everyone who reads this LJ. I;m going to try to limit the expression of pain to the poetry I write. It's good to have a place to release all the sorrow I;m living with. I don't see it ending any time soon.

I;m trying not to angry at the people who had to poke at, point at me when I'moutnd about, and then write up their bone-headed observations.

Who reports on someone's behavior at a local SF club meeting? No one I want to know, that's for sure. That post by lydy really bemuses me. My behavior is almost always appropriate, which is why the meltdown at Minicon a few years ago was so remarkable.Nate has never been at all respectful of my musicianship. He has nitwpicked my performance in front of a room ful of peple. He pretended to like music I wanted to do; he walked away when I was trying to pay one of my originals for him, sayin,"I dont understand what the problem is with you playing the song." How about osteoarthritis, infectious viral neuritis, tendonitis, nodular synovium, and a pinched nerve or two. Constant chronic pain.

And, right, like hydy commmented in August 2012, I was "trying to make Nate have less fun", I'd like to try to make her have less fun, but it's not worth the trouble. I was whiny and complaining for no reason. Oh, I forgot the Ehler-Danlos syndrome that runs in the family. I have a hard time walking or standing a lot; losing 80 lbs. has made a lot of difference,

A lot of you may not be aware that I udsed to have a repetoire of about one hundred songs, includingfive or six of the songs I have written. When I had children, I saved the use of my hands for them, they loved to hear me play and sing. I had surgery on my right hand twice in the seventies, and when the osteoartritis started while I was in my 40's, I just stopped playing. gitar was important to my kids were more important. I thought I would just continue to fet worse, and that limiting use made sense.

Now I learn that there is a new protocol for those with osteoarthritis where one takes ibuprofen to maintain a therapeutic blood lever, and it limits the damage in the affected joints. It's working; I worry about a couple f my fingers that have gotten quite crooked.
Gtta make an appointment to see about that

.So don;t hate me because I'm beautiful, hate me because you find me honest. Unrelentingly honest.

Merit

markiv1111 — Thu, 03 Oct 2013 00:56:11 GMT

A bird without wings

beats the air

feet flailing

back in the dirt,

hurt

Feathers adorn a chest plate

preen and smile at the pain

here; your friends

take their share

feathers for your hair,

her hair, his hair

all rainbow colors

gone blood red

choking

on a prayer of forgiveness

once joy filled eyes

gutter

go dark

well done my steely warrior

well done

Proudly walk back home

feathers dripping blood

washed, the red goes,

all the colors gone dead

the smell of death

hangs there

a just reward

Flying lightly

shriven, weightless

now alight

with angels dancing,

the clouds a playground

beyond love,

beyond death

beyond your reach

I write:

markiv1111 — Sun, 29 Sep 2013 23:11:56 GMT

dying inside

don't look at me like that

for you have gained power

from my tears and despair

you plant the seeds of sorrow

instead of cultivating the crop

of caring; then you ask why

i weep and why

i thrash and complain

you look sidewise

to alter your view, you expect

you have the gift to transform

the lead of betrayal

into the golden glory

of promises passed over

abandoned like

empty candy wrappers

where do i find relief and

when will you let me simply

live my days one by one

in loving you as i have

it has become a game

you lull me into thinking

i'm safe in your arms,

precious in your heart

but it's false fools gold

laughter and derisiion

in between the lines

your performance worthy

of award for best attempt

to steal my peace,

and i need my peace

more than i need you

this is not the way

we promised

ourselves one to the other

and you know it

here i stand,

i have chosen the high road

though i fall to your level

with the advent of love's lament

i needed you beside me

equal measures of love and faith

in our practice of pairing

you have faded to a dim reminder

of devotion's duty

dirty windows and doors

hanging on one hinge

disorder rules the days

while disaster masters

the nights; only know this:

love is not an object

this seed will not yield

what you have planted

save your effort to bring me down

save yourself if you can

remember that you were

once upon a time

the dearest and brightest star

The end.

markiv1111 — Fri, 27 Sep 2013 02:41:26 GMT

Acccording to several doctors in psych wards and emergency rooms, and at his clinic, Nate Bucklin suffers from a catalog of mental and emotional problems including dementia.

This means that sometimes he doesn't understand what is happening around him.

This also means that sometimes he doesn't understand what someone says to him.

This means that he will blame others for things for which they obviously had no responsibilty.

His memory is more than spotty, it is weird and twisted. Stuff goes in and gets mixed with fantasial elements and macabre elements.

So, go ahead and believe everything he says. Just don't try to use what he tells you.

His emotional state has never been stable and now it's completely unmoored especially when he has to deal with anything related to Real Life.

You may tell yourself that I am making stuff up; lying; being vindictive.

Well, I may be a bit vindictive. I;m working on that, really, I am.

I have a debt of sorrow that I will never get the social capital to pay. Nate will say anything about me at any time. From love to hate, from indifference to obssession; from knowledge to confusion. He is flapping in the wind, and if you want to try to hold him down, you are welcome to try

Just don't blame me for the way he is now. I didn't do this to him. I didn't cause him to lose his values, or his dignity, or his ability to love in a mature manner.

Put me down as an old cranky housewife with an axe to grind. I can play that. I just don't want to. I have decades of useful life ahead of me, and many things to fill those years with.

I regret only one thing; that no one who knew told me about his history of violence with women.

A few people knew the truth, and could have saved me the heartbreak of learning that after over ten years of marriage.

Very sad. I adored Nate, I worshiped the ground he walked on. I would have done anything for him. I have done everything I can for him, but that is over now.

The rest of you can love him as he is, as his social persona is still functioning to some extent.. Just don't swallow everything he says, as you will find that you have swallowed an undigestible lump. He is still loveable as a social being, for the time being, at least.

Remind him to wash his face if you think to care about his personal hygiene.

He is helpless and needy, and I love him forever. I just can't be his wife anymore.

He is no longer capable up holding up his end of the relationship, and since he got violent with me, he's not safe for me to be around

It's almost more than I can bear to see him like I did earlier today. He has taken a hateful posture, and he may actually believe the things he's saying about me.

Love him, if you can without getting hurt. Watch out, keep him out of danger.

Look to see how it really is, or talk to me. I'm not the monster he has made me out to be, any more than his first wife was the monster he has always made her out to be. Help him to blunt the anger he harbors towards women and help him ease the burden of being a man who has committed violent acts.

Make him smile if you can. Soothe his fears.

Broken hearted, I sit and let it go now. It's over. It's really over.

winning isn't everthing

markiv1111 — Mon, 23 Sep 2013 23:49:10 GMT

who will be the first to say

she asked for it

she had it coming

it took you long enough

tattooed with bruises

to remind her that she

should never have tried

should never have asked

should never have loved

the shape changer

blameless and needy

deserving of aid in his distress

wreck the wrack that ruined him

she the shameless one

run to him, hail him with hoorahs

and give him the

moon and the stars

for her

yield up scorn by the

bushel; with bated breath

wait to turn the blade

watch her twist and turn

under the light of life's charges

state your charge

no answer required

you all know how

she is

who will say

hes not like that

would never

don't believe it

we know better

faked bruises

she hurt herself

he would never

how can we believe

such a thing

all victims copyright 2013
this one is for each and everyone of you
who have struggled
with fear, shame,
and screwball blame
for having gotten in the way
of someone's fist

trust-love-because / ask-take-hurt or grasshopper always lose in fight with chicken

markiv1111 — Fri, 09 Aug 2013 10:54:19 GMT

August 5, 2013

Dear Goddess:

People are not nearly as bad as they sometimes appear; no surprise to you, I'm sure. One is impressed by the pure unadulterated malice with which some people apply what they call principles. I have renounced the organized practice of Christianity in favor of living what I think is a good life based of the principles that Christ was known to have lived and died by. Miracle or no, it's just good sense to take care of the living things and people around you so that you can give and receive the gift of aliveness.

The reverse is also, unfortunately, also true. Sweetness and innocence with a smile and a twinkle of the eye can wreak untold damage when the charmer is taken into the bosom of a peer group and feted and cosseted and given whatever he seems to want.

There is a special danger in the form of charismatic individuals who think they are forces of nature, able and entitled to belly crawl up to the gate and blast away without having the faintest bloody idea of what the effects will be, much less checking to find out if something is right, legal, or ethical. A personality can be smeared from a distance, locked on in the sights, and be subjected to character assassination, slander, and libel and other things so foul and unbelievable that I won't use the words here.

I've learned a ton about how to ferret out the truth in the last year, after having been kept in the dark completely by several people who might have limited the damage by saying a few things at the right time. Poverty of spoken language or written language in our peer group is almost unknown; the opposite has become the norm for some with the advent of electronic media.

I pray for everyone every day; that all will find themselves back to where they belong safely with no harm to anyone. Shit happens, though, and then one deals. I've gotten pretty good at that these last 365 days. Adjusting one's vantage; then justifying the view one can stand upright and say,:This is who I am; this is how I move through the days of my present times.

We are blessed,

moustress

(Louie here: Y'all take care; don't be strangers, and talk about the things that need airing. Be kind in how you reflect your views as you move through the maze of overconnectedness. Don't be sorry; be good. !xo? )

trace

markiv1111 — Sat, 20 Jul 2013 23:54:50 GMT

we walked
heads hanging
where trees darkened the path ahead
tripping on roots where the earth was heaved up
our feet knew the obstacle well
but not well enough

twilight trapped the words as they tumbled out
held them in porphyria, meaning muffled
myriad pieces strewn about
we held ourselves up for measure
by the intended purpose
letting go of words and weary wishing
taking on the gathering gloom
embracing the altered view
night beckoned and we nodded
agreement for this day to end
letting go instead of grasping
shadows in our hands

epoch of the heart's flight
sights set on survival
we walked

remnants

markiv1111 — Sun, 07 Jul 2013 01:51:43 GMT

Louie here: You all are so quiet, I suppose you think those dark days will pass from your view...think again. Nate told me to post this here; it's pretty raw stuff, but Nate thinks I should take my place at his side as his equal in the arena of bardmanship. I write in order to survive from day to day. I wasn't sure about this one; not that I think it isn't well written. It's a appropriate distillation of the last year, though.

remnants

think fast now while you listen to me
you took something that I needed
left me standing then let me fall
and you let me die unheeded

your minion stood by while you waited
as my body was taken away
it worked out well for you, i guess
a good night's work, you say

catch the scene, now, and watch the show
while you see your precious things
are recovered and you are happy
while I bleed with broken wings

as many deaths as there are moments
more pain than I could have thought
you twist my soul and blacken my name
what it is that you sought?

take it all, take everything
and leave me no where to stand
you have your friends and your guitars
and I guess you think it's grand

to have such loyal troops to lead
your enemy had not a chance
whatever it was that brought on this war
you've won; do a victory dance

dance for the day
dance for the night
wave your arms in the air
sweet victory
sweet victory
oh joy without compare

I guess I didn't die that time
through days and nights of tears
you brought me up short again, again
no relief from all my fears

imprisoned by love, chained by grief
you watched as they dragged me away
you watched as my hope and faith in you died
then you turned aside that day

look now on the glory of all you won
look sharp on the history writ
you want to forget it happened at all
but I'll never be free of it

i see you clear in my mind's eye
as you shrug and turn away
and never a thought did cross your mind
of what happened to me that day

chance or hope
chance or hope
do I take a chance and hope?
love for you
love for me
am I really such a dope?

how can I love a man who tried
to break my faith so meanly
my love will not die a quiet death
the thing still lives, uncleanly

the taste of ashes for dessert
with the banquet piled on the ground
we carry on as the remnants rot
and weep without a sound

for no one cares so much as we
and we cringe from each other now
and go to sleep in separate rooms
it's all that love will allow

Louie Spooner Bucklin

Watch this space

markiv1111 — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 17:56:02 GMT

eighteenth poem

markiv1111 — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 18:38:30 GMT

another day, another panic
utter madness; if only it were just that
and not another date etched in flame
trapped like a gopher in a steel trap
stripped of feet for bounty
the county paid well for this service
little feet pickled in a jar
saved for a month until there are enough to make a difference
a nickel a pair; i didn't get even a the offer of a penny
before i was lured into the back room
in a church and held
for abuse and accusations
while an choir of insane angels sang a chorus
no! no! no!
in a house of the spirit of the divine
love denied, trust shattered,
faith defiled
i will go below
away from the traps and knives
safe from conniving and scheming
let me rest underground in the coldest chill of february
perhaps the spring will come to me again
i well keep my feet
and pine for the green fields
where the panic cannot find me
and love is never denied
trust is as real as the earth
faith as regular as the moon
and the divine earths
enfolds it's own

(Comment on this)

Wednesday, October

tensixteen

markiv1111 — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 19:34:22 GMT

even with promise of heaven
i pause at the door and remember
what happened when we were trying
to make a mark on each other
no fists no feet, only words like razors
thoughts like bombs; hearts like ice

then you turned me to and asked
if i wanted a cup of coffee
hold the arsenic but double the gall and vinegar
i need my alertness so i don't miss that
southbound midnight train

was it my mistake, or did i really
sense the death of something
the sweet perfume of decay
rises all around us, a charnel house perfume
this is the very thing
i never knew before
no mistake, only peace

Louie Spooner Bucklin copyright 2012

poem-Louie

markiv1111 — Sun, 14 Oct 2012 02:09:38 GMT

be thankful for the blessing of time

to have it all in one swirl would be too genereous

for the poor soft things that we are

and having it happen one moment at a time

allows a breath between the cradle and the grave

drink in the gravity of love

filling yourself with the pregnant moment

then let it go

we are waiting, remembering

turning, we see our selves returning

unknowing and wise

with the light of love's timeless embrace

there is no death to be found

only peace in the escape of our trace

letting go of all of it....

markiv1111 — Sun, 14 Oct 2012 01:27:10 GMT

This belongs here:

now i have something dead
inside of me and i can't
remember how it got there
at no time did i acquiesce
to carring a corpse in my heart
the cold thing gnaws away
with an appetite that knows no limit
seeking a cure i have found
only grief; an abyss
sorrow; sackcloth
shame to be so misled
canyons of my own making
by tears wasted on
the dumb earth beneath us
smear ash
rend cloth
silent love rests
where it has falllen
but the remains
still burn; transfixed
tied tight
helpless, unwilling
remorseless

copyright - L. Bucklin. 2012