Tag: rally

Your Lighter

It’s hard enough to start a lighter in a storm,
sparks don’t care for the rain,
and flames hide from the wind.

And it’s too much to ask for a fire,
when the sparks won’t show,

and the flames won’t stay. [..]

Your Lighter

It’s hard enough to start a lighter in a storm,
sparks don’t care for the rain,
and flames hide from the wind.

And it’s too much to ask for a fire,
when the sparks won’t show, 
and the flames won’t stay. 

Give it a moment,
heavy clouds will pass,
and a fire will grow.

M. L. Michael
08/23/2021

About…

That Elephant

Some things are too painful, too personal to deal with,
and so we box them up, throw ‘em in the back corner,
hoping that we never have to deal with it,
or even ever talk about it.
…
It’s that elephant, that box in the back corner. […]

Some things are too painful, too personal to deal with,
and so we box them up, throw ‘em in the back corner,
hoping that we never have to deal with them,
or even ever talk about 'em.
…
It’s that elephant, that box in the back corner. 

…

A word to the readers:
It’s okay if you see the elephant,
You know the drill; it’s not really there.
So avert your eyes, and talk about the weather, whatever. 

…

Some tasks require a lot of work to be completed,
and so we must get the ball first rolling and rolling.
Don’t worry, the momentum of going will carry us through. 
Fore it all begins with that initial push.
…
And there goes that elephant, that box from the back corner.

M. L. Michael
07/31/2021

About…

(Warning, hari-kari gut spilling ahead)

For a while I’ve been walking around with an elephant.
It’s been following me since at least 2013.
…that’s when my teeth first started to fall apart. Altho I had no idea at the time, a combination of my history and the suboxone that I was given to come off the pain medicine, my teeth started eroding and then literally just breaking apart when I would eat anything.
I have always had weird, childhood issues, with dentistry and my teeth. So when this happened, the last thing in my mind was to go to a $%&*ing dentist. And so I did the next best thing. Denial. I boxed my issues up and shoved them in the corner. I did this as they got worse and worse. A couple/few years back I found a sedation dentist in Goliad. I went and saw him. He is an amazing dentist, he dealt with my concerns expertly, but he said he had to replace all my teeth. …that terrified me and I never went back..
Fast forward to now. I finally have the tools to deal with this. I have been dealing with this in therapy and the medicine helps too. My loved ones are helping me and pushing me along. I also found an *amazing* dentist. Dr. Zboril here in Victoria. He can repair most of my teeth and only needs to replace some. His bedside manner was the best out of any dentist I had ever been too to. Thanks to all of these things I am now taking the steps to repair my teeth.
*phew*
Thanks for reading,
and as always,
Take Care Out There.

Hearth Necromancy

The fire went out sometime during the night.
With your back turned and your mind lost in the weeds of slumber,
the fire in your hearth went out,
and its only hours later, when the warmth has slipped out of the room,
that you shiver awake and instinctively reach out for something not there.[…]

Hearth Necromancy 

The fire went out sometime during the night. 
With your back turned and your mind lost in the weeds of slumber, 
the fire in your hearth went out, 
and its only hours later, when the warmth has slipped out of the room,
that you shiver awake and instinctively reach out for something not there.

The darkness feels heavier when you wake,
so heavy you cannot shrug it off like the comforter that now falls to the floor, 
and the floor is not lava when your toes touch down, 
if anything it is now ice, and you feel another shiver consume you,
so you shrug off everything but the darkness, and shuffle your way to the hearth. 

When you kneel, everything hurts; the cold penetrates and aches in your bones.
You sift through the ashes and coals, searching for anything still holding some warmth, 
and eventually you see it, nestled in the center, like a pfenix egg – it is still smoldering. 
There it is, you know what must be done, no matter the hour, no matter the energy, 
You will do your best to revive the fire that went out sometime during the night. 

04/30/2021
M. L. Michael

About…

All Hands On Deck – A “Sea Shanty”

When the shit is flying, and the seas are rising,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!
When the stars are crashing, and the teeth are gnashing,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!

There’s no storm too big, no haul too long,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!
There’s no sea too scary, no wind too strong,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck […]

All Hands On Deck
(a “sea shanty”)

When the shit is flying, and the seas are rising,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!
When the stars are crashing, and the teeth are gnashing, 
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!

There’s no storm too big, no haul too long,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!
There’s no sea too scary, no wind too strong,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck! 

So let’s let the lot know, our lungs are for singing,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!
So let’s let the lot know, our songs give us meaning,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!

And today we sing of greatness, Today we make our own,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!
And today we sing of togetherness, Today we sing as one,
send a shout from the soul, all hands on deck!

M. L. Michael
04/09/2021

About…

Scars & Hooks, Scars & Hooks

the hooks sink in slowly.
(…they know where the scars are…)
and you barely notice,
as they subtly slip back in without a hiss.

and already, just like that.


it’s just. like. that. […]

Scars & Hooks, Scars & Hooks

the hooks sink in slowly.
(...they know where the scars are...)
and you barely notice,
as they subtly slip back in without a hiss.

and already, just like that.

it's just. like. that.
.
.
.
....it feels good,
-a kinked sort of pleasure-
-the sick scratching of a sore-
-the perverse picking of a blemish-
god dammit all. it just feels right.

so these hooks sink in deeper,
drawing up that buried over pain, 
letting it pool to the surface;

and still you let this happen,
because, let's be honest, the hooks were not the beginning,
and because, let's be honest, the hooks begin the game winning. 
.
.
.
The hooks:
...their names are etched - inscribed in their sides,
...just like your name is printed - 
prescribed for all your aches and tides.

The hooks are so defined:
just take two as needed.
okay. that's not enough?
okay. take four instead.
...you know what, whatever, 
take however many is needed
to stop that never ending, forever crashing tide.
(...that last bit is never said, but it's always implied.)
 .
.
.
and so you're strung along - reeled across reality,
unable to tell up from wrong, right from down,
just grasping... hook after hook after hook, 
hoping that one, that one special one, will be the one that finally reels you home.
.
.
.
let this nightmare continue, ad infinitum.
if you wish... 
.
.
.
...unless, ultimately, it's up to you, 
and it's only in rare brevity, those moments of lucid fire, 
that you comprehend this reeling
as a vacuous, fast-forwarding, feeling of rising ire.
and only in this brevity, in your briefest moments of clarity, 
will you have the flash of courage to resist 
the force of dozens of hooks
dragging you through their rough and salty sea.

...and so it's instantly in that moment that you must resist.
as much as it hurts from the drag
of dozens of hooks tearing the other way...
you must resist. 
you are stronger than this.
you are stronger than hubris or shame. 
strong enough to grab a hand,
to take a step back,
to see a hook coming,
to see your scars proving...
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    
    01/03/16
M. L. Michael

About…

Maybe

What’s the word for the sudden realization that your life is going well?
When you snap from the war fatigue and realize, holy shit, I’m happy.
And that year, after year, after fuck-ing year in the trenches, you notice it’s been all sunshiny for days.
Where’s the snapshot of that sunsmily realization?[…]

Maybe.

What's the word for the sudden realization that your life is going well?
When you snap from the war fatigue and realize, holy shit, I'm happy. 
And that year, after year, after fuck-ing year in the trenches, you notice it's been all sunshiny for days. 
Where's the snapshot of that sunsmily realization?

What's the word for the sound it makes when you snap out of the stupor of solemnity?
When you shake your head, and you shake off that negative clout. 
When you rub your eyes and see this path that you've been making is beginning to make sense.
Where's the snapshot of that dawned expression?


...It's a long con, maybe. 

You hang in there. You don't give up. Everyone suffers. Suffering is relative. People get better. You can get better. You don't give up. You  hang in there...

A long con, maybe.

Maybe. 




2.17.15
M. L. Michael

About…

what it is to dance around the fire

let’s dance around this fire,
let’s pretend like we don’t know what’s going on,
and let’s dance like natives worshiping their elemental god.
let’s dance closer, and closer, to this fire,
let’s pretend like we forgot the sting of flame,
and let’s get closer to the heat we want to remember. […]

what it is to dance around the fire

let’s dance around this fire,
let’s pretend like we don’t know what’s going on,
and let’s dance like natives worshiping their elemental god.
let’s dance closer, and closer, to this fire,
let’s pretend like we forgot the sting of flame,
and let’s get closer to the heat we want to remember.

…you dance like you afraid,
like somewhere, someone, is watching, judging,
like your every liberated move is an act of blasphemy. 
instead, dance like you are emboldened,
like right now, right here, you’re here, (much more than) merely being,
and like the only eyes on you that matter,
are these that frame you dancing, simply because 
you’re happy to be right here, (no less than) wondrously living.

this fire, this moment, is frozen in time
and melting in space, 
before we can barely blink, ashes will replace embers,
our imitation memories will replace our tangible joys.
so for right now, (and for the only now that matters,)
let’s do our best not to blink as much,
and let’s dance, let’s dance like the 
world around us is crumbling down,
(…because it is…)
and that the only thing that can save us,
is our passion that burns brighter, 
the closer, and closer, we dance around the fire. 

1.2.14
M. L. Michael

About…

15 Months later

This is almost a nightmare.

The setting is right, it’s 4 something-god-awful AM and you’re in a dark bathroom, trying to escape the ravages of a body gone ape shit, trying to shut all the dark doors it has kicked open, trying to quell the murder of thoughts threatening to blot out the sky.[…] 

15 Months Later…


This is almost a nightmare. 

The setting is right, it’s 4 something-god-awful AM and you’re in a dark bathroom, trying to escape the ravages of a body gone ape shit, trying to shut all the dark doors it has kicked open, trying to quell the murder of thoughts threatening to blot out the sky. 
But this isn’t a nightmare because you feel a monkey clawing up your back, you can hear it screaming in your ear, “this is not a dream, but you still better wake up. because this. is. not. a. dream.” 
Those words hit like thunder and throw out flashbacks that disorient. Flashbacks to nights of no sleep, days of exhaustion, and the blurry gray, guilt inspiring, times of wanting to give up the fight. 

This is dangerously close to a nightmare. 

A totem in the form of a pill bottle is what drew you to this spot. Your pain delirious steps brought you here, and your spirit-fueled stubbornness holds you back. 

Here you are…and there it is – the bottle with the quick answers and backwards directions. 

The simian in the spine screeches, “you can take just one, just one will be okay. 
And the coven of crows caw, “You’re in pain. You’re exhausted. Just one is understandable. Just one is an honest break.”
Their noise is so convincing, so conniving, that you feel yourself falter for a second, a second where you are too indomitable to fall and only human enough to falter.
Faltering on the edge of that cliff overlooking a terrible abyss, where you can see the past tense threatening to swallow the present, a shudder of revulsion causes you to take a step back.

‘Just one’ holds the gun, ‘just one’ is apathy on the trigger, ‘just one’ and the abyss has won.

No. 
…The abyss cannot win. As long as you are feeling, the abyss cannot, it will not, win.

With one step back, the memories flow in and the tape plays back. Mute and out of focus, the tape plays back. Feelings of the abyss reach out from every moment. The tape plays back and you step back, again and again. Again, until you find yourself out of the bathroom, into the hallway, and finally back in your bed.

Instead of a bottle of pills, you reach for headphones and lose yourself somewhere between the ears and on a river.

This is not a nightmare.
You made sure of that. 
 

7/23/13
M. L. Michael

About…