Archives

Sleepless

Jun9

image

The sun has
long since set.

The midnight hour
has already begun
to surrender reign
to the approaching
dawn.

With heavy eyes,
I abide in silence
while the sun
stirs from slumber.

The night has been
so very long.

I fear this new day
may linger past its
appointed hour
as well.

What unseen thief has
has robbed me of repose?

I pray this season of unrest
is soon quelled.

I yearn to be lost in dream.

I long to have the ebony sky
blanket me in the mysteries
it holds.

To be swept away on a
moon beam odyssey
is my fondest desire.

Stirring thoughts
keep the lullaby
of peaceful solace
from me.

Rambling notions stumble,
one upon another
in desperate measure
to be heard,
refusing to be ignored.

Fingers of light
have begun to reach
into my night veiled realm.

They beckon me
to arise and frolic,
but the night does not
willingly release
its embrace.

I will soon enough rise
and move about the day,
though my innermost
essence is weary,
I will remain steadfast.

When this day’s ebbing sun
takes another evening bow,
I will once more retreat
to the comfort
of my darkened room
and pray through the night
for the hush of perfect solitude
to encompass me.

With words as my wings

Jun9

In the serenity
of sweet silence,
a passing muse
softly beckons,
together
we soar
high above
this plane of
existence.

With pen in hand,
I wrap my soul
in the warmth,
and wonder,
and whimsy
of words.

I revel
in the release
of my spirit,
transported to
that perfect place
where words
dance.

I give
the breath
of life
to my every
thought,
my every
dream,
my every
desire,
surrounding
myself
in the peace
they bring.

I fly without fear,
with words
as my wings,
frolicking,
fearless
and free . . .

Crystal R. Cook

Insanity

Jun8

Madness
is when
normalcy
fades into
twilight oblivion

Under crimson skies
delusions arise

Warped visions
we cannot see
play out
in the
static film
that covers
our eyes

Voices whisper
words we can’t
hear
though their
meaning
is clear

Truth is
cleverly
cloaked
for every
blind eye
to see

The sage
is a jester
selling dementia
like candy
for nothing
more than
your sanity

Crystal R. Cook

Anxiety . . .

Jun7

Anxiety . . .

Every now and then I try to capture in words what anxiety feels like, I’ve yet to succeed. I hope when I do, it remains trapped, words upon a page I can fold up and be rid off . . . 

Chaos amidst calm.

I try
to understand,
to overcome,
but screams
of silence
no one else
can hear,
echo within me,
surrounding me.
They fill the air,
denying me
breath.

Inside I tremble,
falling to my knees
at the foot of despair,
pleading the silent
cacophony to end.

Afraid to open
my eyes and see
I’ve been seen,
my hidden fears
revealed.

Do they hear the
beating of my heart
racing to the edge
of my false reality,
threatening
to fail?

Do my eyes
reveal my angst?
Can they
see the sweat
glistening upon
my brow?

How can I fear
nothing?

I know
there is
something
to be feared.

I know
there is
nothing
to fear.

Still,
I crumble.

Around me,
normalcy.

Everything
the same.

Nothing
out of place.

Balance
undisturbed,
and yet . . .

It wells up,
flows through veins,
fills the heart,
clouds the mind,
squeezes the soul.

It is nothing,
yet I fear it
and the fear
consumes me.

A fear that has
not name
nor reason.

I find no refuge
until it’s taken
just enough
to leave me
a little more
shattered
than before,
fearing not
the fear itself,
but it’s
return.

Crystal R. Cook

The beauty of age . . .

Jun7

Years etch lines
upon the face of youth,
slowly forming
intricate details
of living art,
soft and silken
to the touch.

Hands of strength
once fast and sure,
now fragile
flowers
of delicate lace
to hold
and to
cherish.

Auburn locks
from days
long past
blow silver
in the wind,
graceful wings
of elegance,
soft as
whispered song.

Eyes once bright
and brilliant
slowly fade to
water color
windows,
reflecting
a lifetime
of knowledge,
and wisdom,
and truth.

Beauty
transcends
time,
merely
changing,
never
fading.

Crystal R. Cook

Love Me For Who I Am

Jun2

Love Me For Who I Am

Not much of a morning person, especially in the mornings.

Jun2

Not much of a morning person, especially in the mornings.

Morning came too soon today,
I wanna crawl back in my bed.
I wanna close my sleepy eyes,
and cover up my head.

There’s no rest for the weary,
at least that’s what they say.
I guess I’ll have to suck it up
and go on about my day.

I’ll make myself some coffee
just a pot or two,
then I must get started
on all I have to do.

I should tidy up the house
pay the bills now overdue,
decide what to make for dinner
and wash a load or two.

I haven’t dusted in a while
I should get that done,
no one else will do it
I guess I’m the only one.

Then again . . .

The mess will just return
later on today,
the bills are late already
what harm is one more day?

No one’s gonna starve to death
if I don’t cook and prep and bake,
they can forage in the pantry
for something they can make.

And if they truly wanted
their laundry done each day,
they’d put it in the bin
instead of where they lay.

So . . .

I’m goin’ back to bed
to close my sleepy eyes,
I’ll do it all tomorrow
when the sun begins to rise.

Crystal R. Cook

United We Once Stood

May31

Perception
is everything

Your reality
exists in
their delusion

Their fantasy
has become
your fact

Only the
ignorant
understand
what the
geniuses
have to say

Forget what
you’ve learned
since the world
began to change

You were taught
nothing but lies
by those who speak
the solemn truth

They spew
sugar coated
sickly sweet
aphorisms
even they
do not
believe

You may
speak out
but only
in silence
you are
not welcome
to be heard

They try to hide
the fools
they truly are
with transparent
attempts
to extrapolate
and deceive

Nothing
more than
breath wasted
time squandered
beneath the guise
of progress

Breeders of
destruction
suffocating
what could
and what should be

Mindless yes men
hide beneath
masks of honor
and truth
and trust
without intention
to change

Senseless sheep
promise freedom
as they herd
precious little lambs
to the wolves
for slaughter

Perception
is everything

Crystal R. Cook