Winning

The Anatomy of Peace (formerly titled "How to Live With My Body")


my brain and
heart divorced

a decade ago


over who was
to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become


eventually,
they couldn't be
in the same room
with each other


now my head and heart
share custody of me


I stay with my brain
during the week


and my heart
gets me on weekends


they never speak to one another

- instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week


and their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:


"This is all your fault"


on Sundays
my heart complains
about how my
head has let me down
in the past


and on Wednesdays
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the future


they blame each
other for the
state of my life


there's been a lot
of yelling - and crying


so,


lately, I've been
spending a lot of
time with my gut

who serves as my
unofficial therapist


most nights, I sneak out of the
window in my ribcage

and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut's plush leather chair
that's always open for me


~ and I just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes up


last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my head


I nodded

I said I didn't know
if I could live
with either of them anymore


"my heart is always sad
about something
that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen
tomorrow," I lamented.


"I just can't live with my mistakes
of the past or my anxiety
about the future," I sighed


my gut smiled and said:


"in that case,
you should go stay
with your lungs for a while,"


I was confused -
the look on my face gave it away


"if you are exhausted
about your heart's obsession
with the fixed past
and your mind's focus
on the uncertain future

your lungs are the perfect place for you


there is no yesterday
in your lungs there is no tomorrow
there either


there is only now
there is only inhale there is only exhale
there is only this moment

there is only breath


and in that breath you can rest
while your heart and head
work their relationship out."


this morning,
while my brain was busy
reading tea leaves


and while my heart was staring
at old photographs


I packed a little bag
and walked to the door of my lungs


before I could even knock
she opened the door
with a smile
and as a gust of air embraced me
she said


"what took you so long?"


john roedel (johnroedel.com

I would simply leave a door open and let it find it's own way out.
Today I found a stunned sparrow. I took it home to rest. When it felt better, I opened my window and he flew out. Their natural habitat is outdoors.

I have discovered a beautiful poet.
His words are flaming the internet. Here is just one of his poems.

<○> <○> <○> <○> <○> <○>

When somebody else tries
to tell you how you should grieve

smile and forgive them
through your watering eyes

and then imagine
how lonely it must be
to be the person who
audits the tears
of other people

the well-intended
will tell you how
long you should miss
your beloved

but

you take your time

grief is a hedge maze
and being lost inside of it

is more than okay

don't race through
your heartache

because you might
just miss a miracle
or two

in the teardrops rolling
down your face

don't grieve quickly
just to make somebody
else feel better

if you need to,
let your grief
become a coral reef

let the algae of your hurt
slowly form over the years
into the softest violet hue of heaven

it can take two lifetimes to recover

when our beloved becomes
an empty chair

it's okay

take as much time
as you need

your healing is your healing

and the scars of absence
will itch longer than you can imagine

but that is because you
risked to love so deeply

and that is far better than
the alternative

I am proud of you

and the courage it
takes for you to grieve
so fearlessly

don't listen to those
who want you to go back
to normal

normal will never exist again
for those of us who have
lost a part of our heart

if the moon broke in half
would it feel normal?

to hell with normal

normal was their scent on your collar
normal was their voice resting in your ear
normal was their touch on your skin

you have a new normal

it's looking at the shape of clouds
for messages from the great beyond
that your beloved is fine

you have a new normal

it's building a cabin in
the woods of your memory
where you and your beloved
can meet for lunch

you have a new normal

it's crying and laughing
at the same time
whenever their favorite
song plays on the radio

grief isn't the enemy
of life

numbness is

don't become numb to your suffering

welcome it in
and let it wrap you
up like a blanket

whenever it shows up
at your door

it's okay

I swear

it's okay

your beloved misses you just
as much as you miss them

and someday
you two will
get all tangled up
together again

someday
you two will
push each on a
swing again under
a shower of falling blooms

and someday
you two will ride
comets together
on the edge of everything

and someday
you two will giggle
at all of the people
who tried to tell you

how to grieve

~ john roedel (johnroedel.com)

My eyes!!! My eyes!!!
Everything is tiny ....




.

Well, that makes sense.

Any chance of offering to have him for holidays, even the odd weekend? They may appreciate the break and you can love him to bits....

And the jury is breaking after 7 hours for the night. They must be having difficulty making a decision.

If I was a parent of a 17 year old, armed or not...I would not have let him go.

Heart wrenching Julie.

You just have to accept a 6 in looks could be a 2 in personality and has nothing interesting to say.... Or a 2 in looks could have a great personality and could chat all night long. And you can mix that ratio up any which way.

Ask questions yourself. I give up when they do not answer my questions and talk about themselves again. The chatty ones seem to come to the forums.
Best wishes

Here is my thinking.... I think the first killing MAY have been self defense or murder. Noone really knows what happened beforehand to cause/incite the first killing. But the other one was murder. The people chasing him down were heroes, trying to stop him. RIP both men and prayers for the wounded man who now lives in excrutiating pain for the rest of his life with only 90% of his bicep left.

❤

Thanks guys, written for a contest on masks....

I may settle for a loyal dog at this stage of my life. I don't think I am relationship material anymore.

Colour inside a home makes it alive.

Painting masks is an art unseen.
Hidden in dark hours,
the craftsman hangs blank ware
onto a mannequin's head.
Needing little inspiration,
he mixes his paint in a multitude of hues
to capture I and you.

From the street, he recalls faces,
of what he has seen,
and paints the same mask again
and again.

The perfected work -
the face of a homeless man,
aching to find home.

He sells his art on the net,
And names them "Happiness".
They sell like iced lollies
on a humid, claustophobic day.

Lol, I have one of those tree air freshners.

Thank you Robin... I write what I know... keeping it real