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A Poem

René Daumal (1908 – 1944)

One cannot stay on the summit forever
One has to come down again.
So why bother in the first place? Just this
What is above knows what is below
But what is below does not know what is above
One climbs, one sees,
One descends and sees no longer

But one has seen!
There is an art of conducting one’s self in
The lower regions by the memory of
What one saw higher up.
When one can no longer see,
One does at least still know.

Work Dreams

by T.B.

Would sleep by any other name be as sweet?
Distraction, identification, denial.
Are these so sweet as dreams?
Numbly sitting, time flowing, thick like mud.
Of mind, body and spirit, only the mind stirs and it spins desperately.
Rnnnnnnnnggggg! Jarred to the present and out of the dream.
What was I dreaming? It seemed so real.
Wish I could remember my sleep.
Perhaps then I could tell the difference.

White Light

by Pauline

When I awoke, the moon had already done her night work ... leaked her icy light upon your face and bare left shoulder, freezing you for the moment in her coolness. I dipped my hand into the glow on your shoulder and felt it's magic. The sweetness of night blooming jasmine curled up round us like a shawl.
This is how I will remember us when we are we no more. No word ... like burnt dry toast that sticks in the throat ... no tired expressions of this or that, just this piece of time when we fit so nicely together like puppies nuzzling in the dark ... adrift on a down-covered raft pulled along by the gentle current for our entangled dreams. It is at this very moment that I see your strength, like alabaster, and I know you are as constant as the moon.
The chalky bones and bending spines of the future do not scare me. I see that the soul can stay as tender and supple as the first leaf on the maple tree. In this white light of predawn I know you as I know myself and I accept the dark and the light of us. I curl into your warmth, satiated with the knowledge of love.

My Treasure Chest

by Cheryl

I found my treasure chest today
I looked inside at what I put away
My most cherished possessions I saw
I could only stare at them in awe
For I had found my hope and trust
The faith I had stored was a must
My innocence and playfulness were there
My gentleness was packed away with care
Then there at the bottom of my chest
I discovered the love I put to rest
That special love I had saved for me
With belief in myself and all I would be.

A Poem: Untitled

by Dale

Muscles tense. I feel it in my triceps, shoulders and neck.
Teeth clenched. Molars grinding, my jaw is sore.
Short breaths, I hold it in and let it out.
Periodicially, in gasps, negative thoughts
Tainted dark and pessimistic, painful heart.
Dread and despair are what I feel.
Anxiety, Stress, Depression.
Existential crisis, Involutionary species.
One day, I will be extinct, what value does the energy
Of my existence have? Go on or Die?
"To Be or Not to Be?"
That is the Question.

Internal Disruptions

by Mark H.

Life got me down
Onto all fours today
What a price
 I had to pay
Ego mind decreed
A change in status quo
Tho prepared for repercussions
Systems simply said
Obstruction of justice
A demanding co-pilot’s plight
Workers in rebellion
Went out on strike
No thoughful consideration
Nor chance to redress
Demands upset tranquility
Having created on masterful mess
Change is good
Growth can galvanize
Divergent paths
Need to harmonize life is but a journey
At times to one’s dismay
Love yourself always
Honor shall win out the day.


by Cheryl

I want to stop the pain

It's ripping me apart
Fear of hope paralyzes me
If I could just hurt enough outside
Maybe I would not hurt inside
Beating, kicking, screaming, yelling
Constantly fighting enveloping shame
Confusion intrusion
External numbness
Torrential pain Restricting fear
Exclusion infusion
Screaming losing
Slashing flashing
Confining shame
Eternal battle
Massive guilt
Desired escape
I want to stop the pain
It's ripping me apart
My rage has climaxed
Release must start



The .99 Cent Man

by Ben Pitts

I cried, feeling less of a man
Thinking about all the boys without fathers
I grieve, feeling less of a man
Wanting the past to be right
Wondering why
I cry, feeling less of a man
Cheated while I was watching,
 but not able to defend myself
I cry, feeling less of a man
Not wanting another soul to experience my pain,
But yet, inflicting the pain through ignorance
I feel less of a man
Searching for answers to answers of my own questions
I grieve, feeling less of a man
To have feeling makes me feel less of a man,
But now, I'm a dying boy feeling less of a man.