How Do You Fight Off Despair? (a poem)

How to fight off despair?
The walls closed in, chaos, claustrophobia
Mean eyes everywhere I look
There must be some melted hearts out there
Amid the hatred and relentless despair

Hate in hearts can be broken with love
Like nestling into a sweetheart’s arms
Under cool moonlit nights
Away from infinite news cycles and images
Of society tearing, tearing apart
But how to fight off despair?

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New World (Part 6) – A Poetry Journal

2-16-22 – 9:52 a.m.

A dog barking in the distance in the middle of the night. A creaky door opening and closing. Soft, cold wind. A dark, moonless sky. Up in the twilight hours, this is what nightmares are made of. Calm before a storm. Before the attack, always imagined but never happens. Make sure all the doors are locked. I’m home alone and, though my mental health is good, fear runs below the surface.

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Daily Quote: A Measure of Darkness

“There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year’s course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” – Carl Gustav Jung

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Momentarily Sane (a poem)

My lover chisels away rough edges
Around the center of my heart
But sharpness still remains

I cannot contain darkness sometimes
Lying on concrete in the cold dawn
There’s a man standing above me
I reach for the rosary he carries

He offers salvation in a kind way
Not like the charismatic preachers
I used to know in traveling days
He tells me, softly, that Jesus
Turns his back on no one, including
Pimps and hustlers with their
Scarred faces and crooked teeth

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Spiritual Awakening (a poem)

There was a time in my life
When my mind was filled with strife
I was frantic and very lost
And my addictions came with a cost

I like to believe I somehow found God
And his grace shone through and healed me
But spiritual consolation doesn’t last
And faith can be lost to a degree

The journey of faith is a long one
In my depressions I become an atheist
My mind can be frantic and fragile
Manic episodes hit the heaviest

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Drug Heaven and Hell (a poem)

It’s in our nature to rebel
And no cross can hold us down

In the empty church, the pastor screams
We all think it’s quite obscene
Then we tear the place down
Burn every last fucking piece to the ground

My mother told me Jesus would save me
And I thought of this as I put the needle
Deep in my skin and felt utter bliss
Who needs Jesus when you have
Drug heaven that turns into hell?

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