My Brain – Part IV

lindastudley3 Comments

Mother Ship this is the Poet at the Bottom of the Well,
I have landed in the middle of my brain.

Sit rep, Poet.

Atmosphere is thick, turning on the fog lamps. Whoa,
pretty cluttered in here, lots of things to trip over.

What kind of things Poet at the Bottom of the Well?

Mostly garbage but, oh, hang on, here we go
some very nice engrams here, definitely worth saving.

Should I send in a clean up team?

Negative, Mother Ship. Just send in some of those big orange
trash bags and a sandwich and I’ll clean it up myself. A clean up team would probably wreck as much as it saves.

Take the weekend, Poet, and get it done.

Affirmative Mother, better send down a couple of sandwiches, Poet out.

#159

The Door

lindastudley4 Comments

Asleep I am aware
Awake I can ignore
And in the drowsy place between
the two there is a door.

I know it leads to answers but
I cannot seem to find
the strength or the ambition
to unlock my mind.

Or maybe I’m afraid
of what’s behind the door.
Asleep I am aware
Awake I can ignore.

 

 

#158

The Fray

lindastudley5 Comments

Once more, once more into the fray
but what the poet didn’t say
was once that fray is overcome
you’ll probably face another one.

It seems for some the fray’s eternal
whether inner or external.
for fray is just another term
for strife and every breath confirms

that fray is just around the bend
waiting for you once again,
once more, once more until you say
‘no more, no more into the fray.’

 

#157

What to Do

lindastudleyLeave a comment

One day when the weather is perfect
and my chores are all caught up and done
when my aches and pains have all vanished
and there’s nothing to do but have fun
I’ll enjoy it for maybe ten minutes,
before tiring of this reward,
then turn to you and say “C’mon,
let’s start something new, I’m bored!”

 

#156

The Three Hardest Things

lindastudley2 Comments

Beginnings are hard.
No one cares about your plans,
begin, just begin.

Middles are harder.
Carry on carrying on
though no one watches.

Ends are hardest.
Knowing when to say ‘enough’,
rest, and start again.

The three hardest things,
beginning, middle, and end,
are all that matters.

 

#154

Waves

lindastudleyLeave a comment

The waves are higher now
they have eaten the sand at my feet
and knocked me down day after day.
But not this day.
This day I paddle out to meet them,
harness them, ride them, become them
feel their power, see their course,
and when they fall I will have learned to
cast myself forward into dreams,
knocking down obstacles,
but, unlike the waves and
unlike the obstacles,
I will not fall.

#153

Due Oar Dye

lindastudley2 Comments

Eye due knot knead you’re flours
oar you’re complements too sea
ewe dew knot no witch weigh eye sale
oar wear eye wont too bee
Eye prey four piece, eye prey four rein
Eye prey four ewe a gain end a gain.
Butt awl ewe wont too halve eye no
cant bee aloud too bee.

#152

Universal Art On a Celestial Fridge Door

lindastudley4 Comments

Perhaps art is just
the child of the Universe
drawing with crayons;

dance, her innocent
skipping to the beat of the
Universe’s heart;

music, her humming
in the darkness until sleep
crawls in beside her;

poetry, just her
crayons accidentally
forming random words.

 

#151