Drifting Memories

Art and Words to settle my mind

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Wreckage

DeathComesQuietly

I can only be described now as wreckage,
Find no answers no matter how I search,
All this damage, my dreams are dead,
Yet still fighting to escape this mess,
Listen close, can you hear my shrieks,
I would hate for you to feel my pain,
Trying to hide it, silence the screams,
My tears like flooding rain, but hidden,

Deep on the inside, I stay in misery,
I’m dying they say, I fear it be true,
On the outside, false front, strong,
Inside, I beg to be helped, weak,
Life after the wreck, is a wreck,
Heartbeat slowing, life ebbing,
I gasp for breath, desperate to hold,
But why hold, cannot this be my last breath,

Alone,the tears steam down my face,
Falling down, can’t get up, lost,
My heart torn out, my mind gone,
I have only the flames, the smoke,
Thoughts of past, Dancing past,
All I have left, of a journey so fine,
And even now at an end, I still hold love,
Still want to give, to share, to aid,

I’ve loved like you can never know,
Shared moments of pure magic with so many,
I watched the downtrodden rise and flourish,
Saw lives change and brighten, grow,
Afraid I had lost, the best of me,
May even have thought it dead,
But it didn’t die, it still lives in this mess,

Who is she, old woman reaching for help,
Doesn’t matter, I must do what I can,
This is who I am, have always been,
In the midst of crisis, I must act,
Yearn to see a dove fly once more,
That is my meaning, my need, my truth,
Is it all in my head, a real mess in there,
If I tried for myself, I can’t, lost in the past,

Could I find hope for tomorrow,
Sorry to answer no, yet I still love a dove,
I’m still here, no leverage, waiting,
Awaiting ere the end to finally come,
I’m dying you see, a wreckage is all now,
But I been all I needed, fulfilling and true,
For I’ve lived with a passion, a life based on love,
A satisfaction fills my soul, though I feel incomplete,

Time nears for a rest, I deserve at least that,
And I embrace the idea, to go home at last…

easy…

A Dark Challenge

Darkness, a gloom on the horizon of my life
But this cannot be, too long I’ve lived in the light
This dark forbearing looming in my mind
I rebel, cast it out, like yesterday’s unwanted trash
I will once again live a life of light and happiness
Never undone, moving ever forward
Made so, the darkness now a thing of memory
A Soon forgotten nightmare of a time well gone

And it continues…

Grandfather,

Grandfather,

I look to the North and I see the people scratching and digging at the Earth Mother’s face. Leaving nothing but waste and death behind them, they forsake all of the gifts and life in their greed at collecting the dead leaves.

I look to the East and I see them wrapped in petty war and strife, a continuing fight over words of religions and politics. Gone are the ways of peace, the way taught so long by the old ones, the way needed for them to truly grow as a people.

I look to the South and I see nothing but need, want, and destruction. Where gone their knowing how to serve a need, how to reach out with helping hands to aid those that would become brothers and sisters?

I look to the West and I see only death for the people. Though I and others try with our poorly written words to help them understand, helping them remember what is truly important in life, our words fail or go unheard.

I beg they forgive me for my inability to help them in their need, to help them gain the understanding they so need, and I beg you most Grandfather to forgive me for my failing of you.

Painted Dreams

Blank canvas, filled to the depths with a wonder of image
Timeless as the temples of the old ones
Seconds pass till breath returns
The brush once released, dripping in crimson
Giving birth unto future incarnate

Cloistered in rhythm, a streaming of vision
An opening of sight, and you come…

Then and now, anew and renewed
I have always known you
Ancient and new, this sight that I see
The all of me feels, reels in rapturous joy
All madness filling core with gladness
Too soon fading away, lost to yesterday

Behind these eyes the muse cries for release
Strew principles, the simple path my guide…

Whispers from the darkened shadows
As I paint a single grain from unknown beach
Drips of color, a flowing of thought
Purest delight, soul quelling peace
Nothing added, yet nothing missed
Brush filling the page, emptiness complete

Parched thirst now sated, this parchment full
Brush creating the words, this world has awaited…

The journey begins again…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre July 12, 2009

Why?

I notice……..

A vision in the dark of night
She stands there in the street, alone
The world awash from nightlong rain

Lengthy dark hair plastered about her head
Body visually shivering, even as seen from here
Eyes locked down the dark road leading from town

Tears flowing down pale cheeks in torrents
What natures of tragedy hast befallen
What ills doth this poor child draw
And I still wonder…

Why?…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 3rd, 2007