I never ever expected blogging to take me on such a healing journey. I never expected to meet so many people who would consider my writing as anything other than the ravings of a sad and depressed raving lunatic. I certainly never expected to meet so many genuine people and hear so many genuine stories. …
I asked Rachel to guest post for me and I might have pinched myself a few times when she said yes. Seriously, this redhead is incredible. She’s not only the author of some very highly ranked and reviewed books on Amazon but she is also a poet. The fact she is a poet thrills me…
Today I am very happy to have Arthur Browne from Pouring My Art Out as my guest blogger. Arthur is known for having a happy go lucky sense of humor and has built himself quite a large family of followers. He was one of my first bloggy friends and if I ever had the chance…
Helena sent this to me one night via email. I had to share. So many of us have been in this place… Written by Helena Hann-Basquiat Blink and you’ll miss me Turn away and I’ll be gone What am I? This isn’t a riddle it’s an identity crisis that for lack of a mirror…
How come nobody told me The fucking edges are liquid There are no solid ledges No lingering to look down No safe place to rethink Because the edges are liquid Calming from a distance They ripple, roll and wave Eventually pulling you in Lulling you into a dream But once inside fantasy The edges…
I’ve been here Well… Here and there But mostly here And I am tired Monsters chase Demons follow Consistent bellows From the gallows Sheeted ghosts Worn out Torn holes Becoming rips Leaving me here Trying to decide If I should continue Not just here But there as well Some days I am the sheeted ghost…
Self-prophesied aches chase me Like they are never going to stop Ghosts from the past materialize Wearing sheets stained long ago Moaning From the pain I’ve caused Forgive me future for I have Forsaken the dwellers within Creatures created from my thoughts Expectations and condemnations Appearing like a phantom symphony Bellowing life from distended…
For awhile I held on to the belief things would be ok. I felt I knew you well enough and you knew me… and somehow we meant enough… and we would be ok. I may wonder, now and then, where I would be now if we had never met; but I never wish we had…
I’ve been trying Head down Fingers nimble Quilting phrases Mind focused Turning my words Inside out Searching them Owning them Teaching them To be kinder More considerate More inspiring More motivational But they mock me Laughing until Their echoes Sound like screeching Fingernails Inside my head I want to give up I need to give…
WRITTEN BY ST MARY AND HASTYWORDS Thrown into a role for survival This couldn’t be further from me It killed my art and my pride Is it any wonder I’m always anesthetized? The days don’t belong to me And my dreams, well… They are stored inside drawers of metal Inside folders filed and alphabetized Killing…
HASTYWORDS 