It’s funny how life tests us. It tests our physical, mental and emotional strengths. I have to say though I’m tired of it. All this travel I think has finally taken it’s toll. I’m not sure if it’s the events that have unfolded or the shear volume of land crossed but I’m done.
It’s time to paint and write, settle into a routine I’ve yet to find and stop chasing dreams that take me far from home. I’ve given to much of my heart and soul away over the last 8 months often only to have it thrown back in my face. Twisted and used against me.
I started this site to find solace and peace as I tried to sort through having young onset Parkinson’s originally DX just after turning 41.
I’ve made some amazing friends all around the world and gone to see most of them. As I sit here this morning in the sleepy village of Clinton NY I wonder if any of it’s worth it. These days I find that the emotional toll of feeling so passionately and living a life that reflects it has become a burden I’m not sure I can bare anymore. Burden
Honestly I’m not sure of the point I’m making here today, beside the simple sharing if my heart and soul as I’ve always done. Though these days I find more often than not I have to speak in ambiguity as to not offend or suffer the backlash of others in this place.
Tired…. I’ve grown so tired of the struggle..
These days I find I am no longer “Dreaming of Autumn”
I fear I’m no longer dreaming at all. It feels like everything I touch turns to rust and dust before my eyes and I’m not sure how to stop it from happening. Anyhow I’m done. I hope where ever you are and what ever life brings you that your well, loved and at peace. May all your dreams come true.
The demons come tonight.
The fires they light ignite
fear like a wild fire.
Sending waves of hell
washing down like rain from heaven.
As the flames of liquid sin swim feverishly through my mind.
Filling each hiding place of a younger man.
Giving no yield to the concerns of an old broken soldier.
Tired of the games played by a fools heart.
If you are my left hand the be it for I have not the focus nor temperance to be swift of tongue as my words escape me.
Once again I’m left blinking and thinking of what to say…. Good night.. will have to do..
Does your day begin with coffee or tea?
When you look through your eyes what so you see?
A glorious day ripe with possible quest.?
Or do tasks and papers litter your desk?
Find a globe and let it spin
Get a tack and stick it in
Pack your bags and let
the adventure begin.
Fear not the drip drum
of the humdrum
Set sail upon the sea of life
before the dust blows
your bones clean
And they write your
name in a learned book.
I’ve seen the clocks tick talking
to one another
And they say let
the adventure begin.
What woeful sorry clenches
Heavy hearts, borrowed strength
Fails these shaken and quaken hands today.
Tears stream like rivers
Gush from there beds
Cresting high above the banks they belong.
Commons thoughts elude
Only heart strings sing these songs
Of sorrows joy
What minstrel plays these things in me
Given curse to this lack of chemicals
Natures cruel joke
Such teasing seems unkind
Blood ties and promises hides eyes from broken Benjamin to leave me in my corner, gone from my sight
I write these verse to cure my wounds
licking my paws clean
Rotten sugar fed potatoes fill my souls holes
but leak from every sour face a make.
Enough….. Enough of this……..
Please forgive my darkness, overt your eyes if I cause you pain. Read no more these words of re broken man who lets himself wallow in this place of lost souls. Sometimes all of my armor fails me and I’m left with me…. Only me… Scared….tired painter,poet and
man past his prime. I can’t feel my legs but my eyes see them as I sit outside.