The Empty Hand

The Empty Hand 8/23/2016

 

It was early, the sun sat outside the tiny window beyond the reach of the bed.  The air was cold, but my hand was warm.  Warmed by the hand, the touch of one that was familiar.

The time of the clock clicked seven and the hand released me as my eyes slipped away into a great, deep sleep.  I was alone.

 

Waking I was frightened, I knew no one.  I looked for the hand that held mine, but her hand was gone, alone I was left.

Ghosts moved this way then that way.

I was confused and concerned.

They laid me forward, crowding around me, a pause was heard, then nothing.

 

The nothing lasted only a moment, behind it came the tight tug of something

The something was a hot sting, a tingling numbness, a strange sensation that with the touch of breath’s air transformed.

An echo of pain slipped through me, rattling my inside like quaking walls.

The first droplets of pain were soft, like the pitter patter of a light rain, but with each cloud that billowed from the abyss the storm grew greater.

 

The droplets were hot, like the lick from the kiss of boiling grease.

The storm ravaged, the burning became steel as it melted through my nerves, I could feel the heat eat away at everything that made me me.

Fear overcame me, I could not hold back the terror, my hand thrashed to find that hand, the hand, the hand who had left me.

It was the first time I felt alone, the first time I was alone.  Placed within the blanket of darkness, to face the punishment for my innocent benevolence, I would be consumed by Molten steel that was forced and flowed through me,

A pain, an agony that reigned till darkness I was filled…

 

With time comes forgiveness

With time comes change

Though my heart was burned from the inside out, I accepted her and her fear, I forgave the hand that deserted me.

 

Submerged in the silken, slick water

Lowered from the abrasive, bitter world that I battled

I felt a soft touch, the ease of its place, the peace of its harmony

 

I could feel my skin revitalize,

I could feel the spin stop,

And my breath soften

 

I could see again, for the first time

I could feel again, for the first time

I could live again, for the first time.

 

Returning to this world, my eyes were open and my heart washed

I saw a new place, a new time

A land of boundless opportunity, endless love and immeasurable beauty

 

Emerging, stepping from the oiled water I looked to the horizon, My eyes turning to those who had walked with me, to those who had held and forgotten my hand,

And I walked forward.

Shawn White Blog

Words of Hope

NCAN

 

The Lady in the Isle of Hope

The Lady in the Isle of Hope 8/23/2016

 

I’ve never felt a connection so profound

A heart power with so much pull

An immortal love transcending time and space and spirit of man

 

Lost in the sea of specters, she was my isle of hope.

She held in her hand a glowing lantern, that lit her innocent smile.

And guided me to her arms

 

Never in my life have I experienced such profound love

Such fullness of heart

Such a trueness of person

 

She was my soft guide, my angel of peace

With a smile and the nearness of her heart, she would ease my fear,

For a moment I could forget my terrors and set aside my agony

 

Her heart would heal me

It would shield me from the winds of horror that kicked glass and sand into my flesh.

With her touch she would raise me above the boiling sea of despair

With her hands she would cover my ears, hiding me from the screams bellowing from the sea of lost souls.

 


 

The Angel and father of wisdom

The Angel and father of wisdom 8/23/2016

Heart pain dripped from my eye, a darkness wreathed me in its frigid grasp.

Alone I was nothing, but among my angels I would strengthen

 

My legs were weak and my eyes were clamped closed.

The light of the afternoon sun burned in the sky above.

He was a gentle hand, the guidance of a father, the wisdom of a true soul.

 

His strength carried me, his love walked with me, his wisdom led me.

I felt safe beside him.

 

As my lung wept with exhaustion, he consoled me.

He told me stories and shared to me his soul.

A life long ago lived and the new adventures of life

 

My eyes watered as I looked at my angel of wisdom, my angel of guidance.

My words were brittle and my power weak.

“Angel of Wisdom.”  I paused.  “Angel of Guidance.”  My head slumped forward.  I felt a weight in my chest.

“My life, I feel as though I have squandered my time here.”  I looked to my angel.  “Have I wasted my whole life?  Have I touched others and left a mark in their heart?”

 

A pause moved through the air as my angel looked into the distance.

I could feel his heart align with mine, “I have been around the world.  I have met many people.  I would say that you’re ahead of the game.”  My angel spoke to me.

 

Tears welled within me and I wiped them away.

My angel of wisdom, my angel of guidance

My wayward traveling friend

My friend, the father of all souls.

You gave me the strength when I had none

You inspired light as I sat in darkness

 

You are my friend, my father, a love of my life I shall always remember

From the waking days of my life to the ethereal walk of death you will always be remembered, you are my wisdom, you are my father

You are the truest of all true souls

And my beacon to life.

 


 

My Champion, my Protector, my Archon

My Champion, my Protector, my Archon 8/23/16

 

He was a soft voice in the darkness, a man with a sweet smile.

He told me stories and made me laugh.

He held my hand as I cried.

He held my hand as I screamed.

He held my hand as he watched me in agony.

 

He was my guardian angel, my archon on the people.

With his slick words and call to action,

He eased hearts of those who saw me as evil

 

He brought loads of coffee, placing them into the hands who were hurt by me.

He told them stories of great glee.

He was the champion of the evil within me.

 

My Guardian Angel

My guardian Angel  8/23/16

She was my person, my champion, my guardian.

She fed me, clothed me and stood against the forces of hell for me.

She carried her rallying horn and built an army of angels to stand beside her, to protect me.

She held my hand, laid beside me and told me stories.  She kept me there, even when I was ready to go.

She anchored me when I began to float away.

She pulled me in when I felt I had nothing left to give.

The Gargoyle beside oblivion

The Gargoyle beside oblivion 8/23/2016

 

It was a dark time, unlike anything.

It was a place deep to the abyss of the sea.

There were dark monsters and ghosts that surrounded me.

I was alone and surrounded by shades

I could feel their tendrils wrap around me and their glass teeth chew on my flesh.

There were clicks and pops, roars of wind and chains of sin.

I went to a place where I laid alone, no body to have.

On my back staring at the starless sky, I saw nothing to ease my pain, just an empty oblivion, waiting to consume me.

 

There was an ever so silvery slick chill that identified to me, that somewhere else, there my body would be.

The slick chill warmed. Becoming so hot sizzling like grease in an old iron pot.

The heat wrapped around each part of me, enveloping and squeezing every nerve within me.

The pain became so great, for a moment I felt my body, begin to convulse and shake.  My breath began rapid as I began to squeal.  The demon inside me looked at me.  I tried to find peace but there was nothing to be found, only agony, unbelievable, unimaginable agony.   An agony that danced against every chord of my existence. Playing a hellish cacophony of heart rending wreckage.

The pain was so great it became eternal, I found no end.  It ran and poured and blasted as a river would. It became the one thing, the only thing, the everything I felt.

I snapped, screamed and pleaded for mercy, I begged with tears to end it all.  The all had become something that had rendered me into something,

a something that simply,

was something, that was nothing at all.

The Book of Carcinoid

Book of Carcinoid

 

Without apology I sing to you

Without regret I move forward into life

With life, I live, never to once again squander

 

I sing to you tonight the tale of a hard time, a tale of a beautiful time, the tale of the Book of Carcinoid.

 

This journey, this tale, has made me anew,

I have been transformed

I have been reduced and resurrected.

Not in a million lives would I ask for another road, not for the greatest gold would I ask away this favor, not for the most powerful magics would I trade away my journey.

These songs, these harrowing ballads are the places I have been, the angels I have loved and the demons I have faced.

Miss Positive Vibe

Thoughts from 2015

 

Let me tell you about the magnificently amazing youthfulness of positive vibe.  She’s a spirit whose heart glows so beautiful her love flows from head to toe.  Whose love is so powerful no smile may fall to a frown, so sweet few refuse to greet.   This is the positive vibe that I know, the essence we all want to show, the spirit we hope never to let go.

When the sun sets over the horizon and we are left alone, we watch the sight of all of our might slip away in her final rays of light.  Her hand falls from our grasp, we tremble as we linger and waste.  We yearn to taste one more touch of her grace.

The dark beauty returns in her stead and she wreaths us in her embrace.  As she holds us we watch dream after dream crumble to dust, till we become a mountain of broken antiquity.  Our skin shrinks tightly around our fingers and the flesh of our form pulls tightly over bone.  The negative vibe of the dark beauty is eating us alive, and soon we know that we be no more than a husk of our former glory.

As we slowly lurch toward our final moments, the memory of the great positive vibe begins to disintegrate. We begin to believe that she never existed at all. Not a trace memory of her lurking about the dust bunnies and cob webs.  We begin to believe that it is as it has always has been. We feel alone and abandoned and love seems like a mystery, a fable, a simple a legend in a story book.

As we look up to say our good bye, it is then at that moment we see an ethereal sign. A glimmer, a shinny yet pale glow dancing in the sky.  A reflection beckons our eye, a lunar message with a silvery trace. Our heart and soul are laced with the silken strands of her grace, it is the voice of our long love.  Her words are soft and pure fitting us perfectly like a glove and through harmony we will find love.  She says we will see her again, and soon we shall know.  Our love, our positive vibe speaks true to our heart, she tells us that to be true to ourselves we must marry good and bad, we must love to be happy and sad.

In this slightly solar lit eve we begin to perceive the relationship of positive and negative and the arranged ever eternal marriage we have with it. The stillness of the air is no longer brutal, and the quiet is no longer unbearable.  We no longer miss the pitter patter of her feet, her sighs and musings.  We no longer miss feeling her warmth against us, nor her tender touch and the sweet kiss of her lips.

Now we have peace and harmony, for we know she will return, and upon her return she will leave once again.

Roller-coaster of Empathy

Thoughts from 2015

 

Would you rather feel a refreshing breeze against your skin on a hot muggy day, or be locked into a colorful cart with thirty people?  Of course the later would also include being launched down a rail of adrenaline pumping, super twirly twisting roller coaster awesomeness.

Personally I would prefer the refreshing breeze, but I am not one to pursue thrills on rails, or amusement parks for that matter.  I’m typically the buzz kill cause I want to treat myself with a few water rides and then head on home.

Life is kind of like an amusement park, we have all these colorful sights, all sorts of people, a million lines and lots of roller coaster rides.  Of course I can’t know exactly what another person feels, but I do know this is how my life is.  Its in my nature to experience these highs and lows, twists and turns, thrills and chills.  I love how I’ve had the opportunity to experience an incredible range of human emotion.  I have tasted the bitter breath of death, while standing at the edge of oblivion.  I have melted under the rush of a mushy gushy lovey dovey crush.  I’ve squealed while dancing head over heels and experienced the greatest pinnacle of joy.  I’ve had moments where I believed myself to be superhuman and I’ve had moments where I felt no more than a squished bug.

The importance of all of these experiences is they have allowed me to empathize with the world.  They have given me the sight to see from another person’s eyes.  They have shown me that even at the worst of times, when I want to kick off my shoes and jump to the next life, that we can choose to turn around and hitch a ride, to continue our adventure in the road of life.

Its simply you

Its simply you

 

Billy. Jillian. Billy Gew. Thats how I know that I knew you.
Lauren. Morris and Borris too. Thats how I know that you ate glue.
Peter. Paul. Betty and Sue, I remember when we found that shoe.
Roger, Timmy, Thomas and Toenail. I remember when we made that cow go moo.

These are the friends I bought at the store. All my old ones were such a bore. But now if you must know, I have made so very many many more.

I met Todd sitting on a log. His face was red and his ears so big.
And then there was Ned, sitting on that fluffy bed. He told me to call him Tackey Matty, and introduced me to Milly Dew.

Robby was known for being soggy and wore big brown shoes. Maloney ate bologni and constantly said show me after shouting whew!

I met Gore while he was sore, recovering from his walk to the store.

Tommy said he was a toadstool and was really good at pool. Doug owned a filthy pug named Lug and had a girlfriend named Geri.

Now with all these friends I dont know what to do. Clearly I cant go boohoo. Sometimes I am weary, but now I know, that if I want to be happy I have to put on a show.

Now I need to call Billy, Jillian, Billy Gew, Lauren, Morris and Borris too. I need to contact Peter, Paul, Betty and Sue, Roger, Timmy, Thomas and Toenail. I’ll have to find Todd and his log, Ned also known as Tacky Matty, and let us not forget about Milley Dew. I will get Robby, Maloney, Gore, Tommy, Doug plus his pug named Lug… and even Geri too.

Now I have almost everyone, but not just yet.
I know I missing something.
What should I get?

Oh yes now I know
That something is simple.
Its simply you!

Refrigerator Raiders

Refrigerator Raiders

 

When refrigerator raiders…
Get their hands on tele potato-matos…
And the potator haters flex their baby make-ors…

Thats when we know we need to call in help from the bella bottom beans.

They’ll shake and bake em till a snake goes wither whirl.
They’ll make their butter curl.
And in the end they’ll make those refridgerator raiders weilding tele potatoe-matos wish they never unfurled with their potator hating baby makors.

He had a Voice

He had a Voice

 

He had a voice, it was as though he had a choice.
It was made of air and it made everyone stare.
And so he fought the need to return with a parting glare.
Instead he smiled, laughed over there and jumped into the air like a floating flare.

Potator

Potator

 

Potator
Like terminator,
Is the popular verb of potato
Like shark-nado
But instead potato-nato
Similar to our nato,
Showing peace to the world,
with furls and curls.
But let us not forget about the girls, the ones doing twirls and potato-whirls.
Swimming and trimming the root,
Telling our potators where to shoot.

Everything She needs

Everything She needs

 

I want you to know that all things are magical, even beans and bones. That when your heart meets your soul the stars will have a show!

That though things may be hard, and cut like a shard, you will peer through the looking glass, and know this will pass.

You will grow strong and wear your thong, proudly you will dance to your own song. We shall swing from a tree, listening to the bees.

It will grow dark, but only in the night. It will be the most incredible sight. We will look into the sky and watch the lightning bugs fly.

At the end of the eve you will be the woman I see. A woman with an eye, that sees into the sky. Able to provide for herself everything she needs.

super best friends today

super best friends today

 

I remember the first thing that I said to you, and it was the conversation that stuck us like glue. Think back to a day, when everything was a different way, and delight on the words that brought you the bones, berries, and jellies, and even some scones.

If it were a colder month I could say for show, that you and I could’ve pranced in the snow. But as it is today, I will surely say, that there was something else I needed to let you know.

Tacos, berries, and jellies and bellies, these are all my most favorite flavies; and when its cold, its like a witch’s sack, and when its warm its like a hot sweltering cat.

But now it is time for me to repeat those words, that I surely did share, so now you can remember why it is that you still care.

Hello miss lady, don’t make it a maybe. I have a cat named Mouse over at my house. He is covered with fur, and sometimes says gurr, and would love to show off his purr.

I even have a roommate who likes to sleep late. Her name is Sadie, she likes to eat potatoes, and she smells like tomatoes, and sometimes likes to be treated like a lady;

She has a brown puppy that she named Yuppy, and she once fed it a green bean grape.

So for my heart’s sake, pretty lady, when did you want to come over today?

I need to know, so I can go to the stow and buy a bag of rye and a big ol pie.
Tell me now so I do not cry. Lovely lady, when shall I see you today?

Cause i wanted you to know, we could play with clay, or even jump in the hay, maybe, perhaps even drink with the fae.

So beautiful lady, if you come over today, we could dance through the month of may. And at the end we could say, we are now super best friends today.

These are the beverages I like to sip

These are the beverages I like to sip

 

Potatoes… and rocket ships,

These are the beverages I like to sip.

Hats and meats and cheese and bees, rocks and bones and clocks and scones. These are the things that can be loaned.

Clicks and ticks and buttery bells, these are the things I like to smell. Sometimes i even like to put hair in my gel.

These are the things I like to spell. Mostly they’re all words that start with L. Like lima, load lock and belly, be as M and tree and even three…

So come with me and dance and sing and together we will surly be,
The ones swimming in the fine ols sea…

E

E

 

There once was a barista.
And his name began with the letter E…

You could call him steve, meave or cleave…
But those names dont start with an E…

He was known for never wipeing his nose on his sleeve…
Or having any great pet peave…
And thats why everyone likes to call this man good ol mister Steve.


What about Things I want to Know?

Billy Bowl

old Billy Bowl

old Billy Bowl

 

Bones and bells in the shape of a snail.

Sacks and snares stuffed into bears.

These were all of the goals of old Billy Bowl.

Replace the mail carrier’s eyes with berries and a cherries.

Sprinkle germs on long brown worms and pour barrels of snakes into the local lakes.

These were the goals of old Billy Bowl.

Beat the poor until their backs were sore.

Feed the sweetest kid to biggest pig.

And burn all the butter that was recently churned.

These were the goals of old Billy Bowl.

feed the dogs to a bunch of hogs

Set ablaze the old corn maze

And let us not forget about a virulent plague.

These were the goals of old Billy Bowl.


What is so spectacular about the letter E? Does it mean something? Or it just simply something we all need to see?

Joy

Joy

Joy

 

Some people are smitten…
Like giants eating kittens in a glove…

Others are in love…
Making mittens from a dove…

Many are lonely…
Like bees eating bologni.

Most, however are ghosts…
Hiding close…
Watching…
Clapping…
And jumping with glee…
Waiting to see the sneeze and wheeze, of the pathogenic flea.