Regret

Even-ing
In the after-breath of the day we render our song mute to block creation.  Out-   side the birds turn silent to hear the crockets chorus bounce across the dusk-struck yard   betraying the dispirited world.   ©2001, Marissa Mullins Posted in DiSpirited World, Goodbye, poetry, Silence Tagged: crickets, DiSpirited World, quiet, song

funeral song
2001 Myrtle Beach, SC ego-separation from the letting-go is the last phase of loss. solemn-silence is declared. it will not lift, can not lift until vision clarifies.   imagine the world as a new place created and transformed by the without, adjusted perception looks for meaning submerged in the pain. seeks solace from a fragmented spirit that clings to us in absence.   each lost thing claims a part of our [...]

American Lullaby 2001
Mule-bred defiance exemplifies our lasting creed . . . We will not fall! The possum in his need to move is destroyed by the movement . . . We will not fall! The legacy of Rome declares failure for those who model her . . . We will not fall! Adam never considered the choice to be that important . . . We will not fall! Surging [...]

Regret
Regrets are bitter-bright emotional remnants that hit us with pain and sadness at each recall....I also lived vibrantly loud. My hair was the whitest-blonde available in a bottle, my magazine writing was a battle against injustice or a call-to-arms for the downtrodden, my poems spoke of grief and loss from the depths of my soul, and my relationships included people from every scale of life and living. I was trying new things, tackling new fears, overcoming old phobias, and living wide-open and unashamedly. (Dying my hair black was courageous, but BAAAD! And maybe I should have waited on the tattoo…and I probably shouldn’t have moved to Florida….) My internal fears became a propelling

Silence Screams 1
Words are a shrill hawker of the street promoting unwanted wares and thoughts roll in thundering reverberation across a mental landscape of water, air and mist. Time has an ebb and flow about it. The concrete solid state of things wavers - there is a stillness beyond that beckons, calls, whispers, pleads...soaks into tired bones and weary mucles, flows across the brokenness of heart, the tattered rags of ego. I have lived almost a year in this place where silence screams.