Nova Scotia Shooting Spree

Our crazy world has become even crazier.Trying to make sense of lives lost to a virus suddenly seems easier than trying to make sense of lives lost to a gunman – someone pretending to be a police officer for G** sake.

Unease bulges in my throat. I no longer recognize my world. I long for solitude but I don’t want to be alone. Stepping into running shoes I walk out the door, the energy to run gone with the twist of the doorknob.

I walk without a destination, to calm my nerves. I try not to think about families destroyed because they trusted a uniformed person.

I try not to think about too many people, too close together on the pathway. I veer to the overgrown winter grass. When people, dogs, bikes, kids head toward me, I freeze. I wish they would spread out.

When I get home, I bake cookies. Flour, butter, oatmeal, sugar,everything carefully measured, following an ordinary recipe.

But each time I hear a news broadcast between songs on the radio, I am reminded we live in a time that is anything but ordinary.

Peeking in the oven hoping to see the cookies spread out, knowing I have done nothing wrong, I still find myself whispering, I’m sorry.

(photo credit: Engin Akyurt)

Aren’t We All A Little Crazy At Times

tracks

Everything is set in motion.

Even if we wanted to

we can’t stop the train

hauling us into a future

we can’t know.

Comfort and security

habit and norm

blur scenes

fall to the wayside.

My heart skips a beat

out of rhythm

out of balance

missing

a sense of direction.

 

I Wonder How Many People

nighttime-city

I Wonder How Many People in This City from “The Spice-Box of Earth” by Leonard Cohen

I wonder how many people in this city
Live in furnished rooms.
Late at night when i look out at the buildings
I swear I see a face in every window
Looking back at me
and when I turn away
I wonder how many go back to their desks
and write this down.

Wallowing

Woke up this morning
took a moment to see
through blurry eyes
exactly what
was looking back at me

Garbage can lids
cardboard under my head
a dumpster spilling over
can’t remember what I did
what I said

Do you have a light
can you spare a dime
I thought things would be different
this time
Do you have a light
can you spare a dime
I really thought life would be different
this time

Went to a center
finally took someone’s advice
lost my wallet, my cigarettes, my hoodie
came away with lice

Story of my life
always seems to be
no matter what it is I do
bad luck follows me

Do you have a light
can you spare a dime
I thought things would be different
this time
Do you have a light
can you spare a dime
I really thought life would be different
this time

One hundred push ups
fifty sit ups with a kick
didn’t make a difference
left me feeling kinda sick

Don’t know why the fuss
wish people would let things be
let me face my own future
wallow in misery

Do you have a light
can you spare a dime
I thought things would be different
this time
Do you have a light
can you spare a dime
I really thought life would be different
this time

Despondent

Air is charged
electric
stifling
Try to breathe but can only gasp
cannot inhale deep enough
cannot draw air in

Want to lay down
want to run, escape
want to read
to forget
dive into someone else’s story
so do not have to face own

Tears surface but refuse to fall
accompanying lump in throat
swells
contributing to difficulty breathing

Count…
one – two – three
one – two – three
one – two – three

a polka that needs to be taken down to a waltz

over and over again
count repeated until moment passes
and calmness returns

Energy is drained
but have survived
did not drop into bottomless pit
Great sadness closes in
yet life can go on

A little piece
the tiniest sliver
of self
has been restored
and can go on

But the monster comes back
furious
angry to have been kept at bay
Thrashing
consuming

All that can be done
is ride the wave of tears

tumble
roll

one – two – three
one – two – three
one – two – three…

Feel the pain
acknowledge guilt

Breathe

Look for the shining little sliver of self
hold on tight
despite bleeding hands
and shattered heart
hold on
hold on
to go on