Floating in a sea of sadness
Looking for an isle of gladness
Waves of emotion
A vast ocean
No land in sight
Only endless night
Context: Ten years ago, almost a year after Nina died I often slept in my barn office fighting emotional darkness. Woke up one morning with the first sensations ones of pain – physical and otherwise – again. Curl into a ball under the covers and try to shake it off enough to motivate the day and the words above come to me in bits.
Took me a bit today to realize why I was feeling so adrift and emotionally awash this morning. And then I looked at the date to check about an upcoming appointment and realized the dates next week and remembered what this time of year means and how our bodies know and remember our grief even if our minds have shied away from remembering.
awash in the miasma
of async blocks on dispatch_queues
bad data flyin’ like kids from pews
(when church lets out and they go free)
and to the console logging spews
apocalyptic, no good news
mood turning into plasma
Morning stretches in front of the woodstove to fight the chill,
Needed warmth at twenty-three outside, eight with the windchill.
So glad I work inside and not on the road crew!
Wondering what those Canadians up North do.
Ahg! Deadlines, oh they loom!
Time for programming feats,
and rationing of tweets.
must avoid pending doom.
Dad stumbled upon this while cleaning out a “miscellaneous box.” A moment in time, in the form of a poem from the end of a tumultuous sophomore year in college:
Looking down all the crossroads,
I didn't take.
To see the lives I will not live.
There is no going back.
Only one path is mine.
Sadness - so many paths appeal.
Try to look ahead,
the memories of choices made,
of turns not taken,
Haunt and cause hesitation,
Fear of wrong choices.
A Hope that paths have destinations
Different languages say the same things,
Could different paths lead to the same place?
FIRE & Ice
a diamond poem by Geek
BURNING, WARMING, GLOWING
WOOD, SMOKE, Glaciers, Water
Freezing, Melting, Chilling
Earth & Air
a diamond poem by Geek
Growing, Eroding, Shaking
Rock, Grass, Wind, Clouds
Blowing, Swirling, Breathing
There once was an alien from Mars,
Who liked to play with matchbox cars.
He would drive them around,
And make racecar sounds,
But then he had to leave for the stars.
The computer game
An ancient soothsayer said to me,
Go on the journey that you see,
Past fairies crowned in leaves of oaken –
Crash! Oh no – my computer’s broken!