Could we when lost in the hope of knowing how
would why world apart we might believe only now
is this our truth
to forever land inside a sea of doubt
drifting aimless in the doldrums of our own deceit
when conscious of our own slide
deep inside the water’s edge
that riptide dragged our spirits away
only to find ourselves afloat
lost in the moment
trying now to understand
how these thoughts
could ever speak
might once spoken
of love.
© Scott F Savage 1/2021
When I arose in the morning,
there was a daylight,
a bit of a haze,
suggested a cooler temperature.
Like any other day,
glance out my windows
some kids at play,
the neighborhood
coming to life,
dogs and a very loud
motorcycle,
a weightlifter
hidden in the garage.
I wonder where I am
fighting this a
cycle of ambivalence,
am I sure about this,
what would matter then,
how close am I to …
life has a lot of twists and turns
we come upon a …
our next daylight,
hear the bird song,
the spring,
when life begins again,
yet this time,
I’ll cut a new path.
Yet I wonder sometimes,
how many more do I have,
how do I choose,
what happens on a rainy day,
brings to mind a soft memory,
a sunlit spring afternoon,
let the world come alive,
staring tonight at the pink moon,
I am a day behind.
how long will I last,
fighting the same battle,
in and out of time.
© Scott F. Savage 4/2020
I’m afraid of it
this place
with so much discontent
our lives
wrapped in a purpose
yet the soft touch of beauty
when held alone,
away from our heart
gives strenth
to an irrational
option.
There is no singular reason
to imagine that compassion
only lends to individual
memory.
Yet there is,
if you think about it,
a truth to feeling loved.
When love is lost both outside
and inside our realm
of quiet existence,
it might be difficult to imagine
anything else
really will matter.
I remember one time,
walking along the shoreline,
icy depths,
I imagined
the length of time,
wading into the pool of our
natural purpose.
There is every night,
I think about that place,
if I leave here
so many memories,
so many eyes,
I’m grateful for the beauty
knowing we can be ‘great.’
in the short hours of our
quiet release of emotion.
I stood nearby the final release of
carbon
would no longer interfere
with that ozone layer
we all worried about in the 60’s.
another six decades later,
it is like I am sitting on that little hill
with the gravel path
led me to my solace.
Nothing had changed, my life,
a constant battle
trying to recognize
beauty rather than desecration.
When we fail, we might choose to prevail.
© Scott F Savage 3/2020
Every word you might find here
is a leading reminder.
Not a conscious choice
only some sweet trapping
of a vulnerable soul
wanting peace,
wanting some solace.
Every gasp I might have
in a lonely sigh
would tell you everything
I hide inside my eyes.
I would not expect your
understanding
though try I might
to know you believe
there is truth in our pain,
there is peace must remain,
when the dust settles
after parting skies
then lives do go on
to remind those that remain.
Stay in one place
we will, I will,
live your love,
for my own
it has been a good life.
© Scott F Savage 2019
One might imagine the end of anything containing a .
This facade of me
counts on you,
only
though if you believe
I am honest,
I have my faults
yet
here I don’t pretend,
I’m not
anything
you might want to imagine
I am simply me trying, finding some bearing
the human condition,
keeps asking
me
for clarification,
so I turn
to you
today
When lives choose
to misconstrue
can we blame one another
for indifference,
is there a spoken truth
that overcomes imagined
peace of mind,
solace,
truth.
Perhaps it is all an illusion,
we must offer defeat its hand.
I do have to wonder about silence. What happens when two lives become a distant enigma, seemingly non-existent, the memory of which might need to be repressed. I realize as human beings we must learn to continue forward in our lives, to sometimes not look back, and yet, there are moments when it is impossible. Perhaps it might be a song on the radio, driving past some familiar memory, just a whimsical notion that we fall into. Perhaps it is because we refuse to let go of what we feel is real.
I feel I’d like to explode
the words will pour
feelings will bury the mind
in contemplative scrutiny,
the lunacy of the ludicrous
nature of acceptance
within the perfect structure
that is reason to disagree.
Yet I am alone with this fear,
this tension, this concern,
a need to vent,
remember getting your feelings out,
feel better after a good cry,
a good cleansing wrenching of our
internal demons,
or wait,
wait a second,
I’m almost done,
just one second please,
and I will finish that which
I began,
or perhaps
chose to not even getting started.
Right now, struggling with reason!
 | a quiet man on Benevolence |
 | DiosRaw on Benevolence |
| a quiet man on For This Happened |
| a quiet man on Laying Awake at 3 in the … |
 | Veteran Writes on For This Happened |
A Collaborative Mental Health Blog
A little bit of me, with a little bit of you. A little of the old mixed with the new. A little too loud, a little too shy. A little grounded and a little high. A little bit of sad and a little bit of laugh. A little bit of evrything i carry in my heart. This is my blog that highlights other works, for my poems and musings please follow me on http://myshellecongeries.wordpress.com/
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