Just thinking out loud

[shadowrider]

In Darkness You Find Clarity

 

  I sit alone in the dimly lit room, the storm now fading in the distance. The soft tranquil sound of the rain falling on the tin roof of the small shack is occasionally broken by the rumble of thunder. The lightning has passed and no longer gives its short bursts of illumination to my dark room. The only light now is the frail flicker of a small candle that is casting shadows as it fights to stay alive. The shadows keep me company as they dance and sway on the walls in a rhythm all their own. The candle gives me comfort as it keeps the darkness at bay.
  As I stare at the flame and see it slowly growing smaller I know it won't be long before it is gone completely. Taking the last bit of light with it. I am reminded that everything has a lifespan. Not just this candle, or people, but everything will one day have served its purpose and give up its last bit of light. I am reminded of the song "Old Violin" and just how short this life is. As a child I liked this song but the words never sank in. As I grow older they ring more clearly. I begin to think about that old violin and reflect on the words and sentiments of that song. Then my mind turns towards how that violin started life and came to the place it is now. 
  In the beginning the violin was fresh and new and it shined as a jewel. As time passed its luxurious finish began to fade due to lack of care in the wrong hands. Scratches appeared and strings frayed. Its hardware lost its gleam and the tune was off. The instrument was about to be put away and never played again.
  But what if a new hand picked it up and this new hand was gentle. What if new strings and fresh finish and hours of polishing in painstaking detail were lavished upon the tired old violin. Until it was revived and ready to play again. What if the new hands played with a love from a depth the violin had never known. They might draw from the violin a melody never before imagined. These two were meant to be together and the music they could create would be astounding.
  The violin was designed to make music and in turn bring smiles to the people that hear its tune. But alone it is unable to do this, alone it can do nothing. It may be made of the finest wood and have the richest finish but alone it has failed its purpose. It must be found by that one person that can bring its melody out so that its beauty may be known. Anyone can pick up a violin and draw the bow across its strings. But there is one that can reach deep into the soul of this instrument and coax it to give its all. And that person would play better with this instrument than they thought possible. To share themselves with each other in this way brings out the best in them both. Together their beauty is unmatched.
  People are the same in the respect that most people have the ability to make someone smile. But rarely do you come across that person that can see beyond the facade and see the real you. To see the beauty that lies deep beneath the surface. The tenderness and frailty that you hide for fear of being hurt. Ignore the fear and let them in so that they may bring out your inner beauty. Let them into the deepest darkest parts of you because beauty lies in the shadows. The most magnificent flower was just a seed that was buried beneath the dirt until someone gave it water and exposed it to light.
  All things, just like the violins song, must come to an end. Don't let the fear of the songs last note keep you from finding your perfect partner and enjoying the dance while its playing.

 

 

 

 

[Guest]

this is beautiful <3

[shadowrider]

Thank you LG, that means a lot.

[shadowrider]

Storm winds blow

 

 

It's just after midnight when I am awakened by the thunder crashing. I open my eyes hesitantly to see the flashing of the lightening and I feel the icy cold chill run through me. I've been expecting this storm but still was not fully prepared for it's arrival. I roll over trying to dismiss it to no avail, so I get up and sit on the edge of the bed. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and try to judge the severity of what is coming. The house is dark except for the faint glow of a small lamp. I sit and listen calmly as the gale force begins to take it's toll on this old man. I feel as though my walls are beginning to crumble and my foundation is again being shaken. Heat rises as the storm continues to gain strength. I feel my heart starting to race and my temperature rising. I know my only choice is to go outside and breathe before things escalate. So again I find myself walking in the darkness trying to regain my composure before things erupt beyond that point of no return. I walk in silence, watching as the lightening bugs dance and sway on the warm night air. Soon I find myself once again turning my gaze upwards, towards the starry heavens. I know I am being watched and I gain comfort in the thought that those stars are there just for nights like this one. He created those stars that have always comforted me in times of struggle. I walk slowly, not even thinking about where I am, but feeling warm and safe in the knowledge that I will get through this storm. The only sounds I hear are my own breathing, that has become much slower and rhythmic, and that of the creatures that live amongst these woods. My voice breaks the silence as a lone tear finds it's way down my cheek. I do not ask why I am asked to endure this, for the reason will not make the journey any easier. I ask only that this path come to a fork or an end before it is too late.

 

[shadowrider]

 

Tunnel vision

  It is a steamy summers day and the air is heavy and still. I find myself standing in a dark tunnel with only a faint light peeking through the heavy gate ahead of me. The cold stone walls surrounding me are just a harsh reminder of what awaits me. I have been here before and am none too happy about being here again. But I have only myself to blame this time.

  As I stand here silent and motionless I try to let the sound of my breathing and heart pounding drowned out the roar from beyond that door. I let my mind drift to a better place and time. It seems like only yesterday that I was free to roam aimlessly through the countryside. Lying in the cool fields of bright yellow flowers as they gently swayed in the wind. The only sounds were of birds singing as I watched the clouds drifting by on a background of pale blue. My cares were few and my freedoms many, how things have changed now.

  I used to spend my nights peering through the cracks of my antechamber dreaming of freedom. Wondering what it would feel like to be free, totally free. Swearing if I ever escaped these walls I would never let myself be dragged back. Once outside the walls that entombed me I knew I could not stop running until I could no longer see even a glimpse of my past behind me. But your past will find you, it will hunt you down, and it never sleeps.

  I can still remember the first time I felt that elusive freedom. I was weary and could hardly stand, let alone run. I saw a clearing through the trees ahead of me. I knew that the cover the forest provided was my best defense but that clearing seemed to call to me. As I peeked through the brush I saw the flowing sea of yellow and felt the warmth of the sun as it gently kissed my face, inviting me to venture further. It was so beautiful that I could not resist the urge to walk among the flowers and take in their fragrance as I let the sun wash the chill from my body. I felt like a king, my strength renewed and my thoughts were of pleasant things for a change.

  The nights were equally magical. The moon bathing the world in it's pale beauty as the stars glistened against a backdrop of black. No sound but that of the breeze and an occasional hoot from an owl perched high up in the tall piney woods. Each one was better than the last as I explored all the pulchritude that my new status in life allowed me to enjoy.

  For several days I had been feeling uneasy, as if something were coming but unaware of what that might be. I still remember sitting there relaxing, enjoying the sights and sounds as a chill shot up my spine. I heard the crack and felt the pain but had no idea what had just happened. My heart raced and my head was splitting as I tried to wrap my mind around what had taken place. In that instance my heart ceased to beat and my breath came no more as my freedom was stripped from me.

  I awakened in this dark hall with no way out except through that gate. My wrists and ankles still raw from the shackles used to restrain me. The smell of blood and death weighing heavy in the hot summer air. I hear the roar from the other side of that gate growing and I know it is only a matter of time before it is opened and I must re-enter the world I left behind. I here my keeper coming so I close my eyes and begin to breathe slowly and deeply. Clearing my mind of everything except the one thing vital to my existence, my past. I recall the things I have been through and those that tried to keep me down and I draw upon all of my strengths to push all fear and doubt from my heart and mind.  I cry out to my keeper "open the gate I have waited long enough for this battle". I will not fall, I will not fail, I am a warrior and I have no fear.

  As the heavy gate swings open and I step forward to face yet another trial the only sound I utter is the mantra of those before me. "I fear not death but welcome the death of fear".

 

[shadowrider]

Internal Struggle

 

 

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.

"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "They both win."

"You see, if I only choose to feed the white wolf, the black one will be hiding around every corner waiting for me to become distracted or weak and jump to get the attention he craves. He will always be angry and always fighting the white wolf. 

But if I acknowledge him, he is happy and the white wolf is happy and we all win. For the black wolf has many qualities - tenacity, courage, fearlessness, strong-willed and great strategic thinking - that I have need of at times and that the white wolf lacks. But the white wolf has compassion, caring, strength and the ability to recognize what is in the best interest of all. You see son, the white wolf needs the black wolf at his side. To feed only one would starve the other and they will become uncontrollable. To feed and care for both means they will serve you well and do nothing that is not a part of something greater, something good, something of life. Feed them both and there will be no more internal struggle for your attention. And when there is no battle inside, you can listen to the voices of deeper knowing that will guide you in choosing what is right in every circumstance. 

Peace, my son, is the Cherokee mission in life. A man who has peace inside has everything. A man who is pulled apart by the war inside him has nothing. How you choose to interact with the opposing forces within you will determine your life. Starve one or the other or guide them both."

[shadowrider]

 It is New Years eve and it is dark and gloomy outside. The rain has been falling since last night and shows no signs of letting up anytime soon. The sounds of the rain beating on the roof of my little cabin are sometimes interrupted by the heavy winds. And the sound of limbs being snapped from the trees in the woods surrounding me echo through the night.

 

 It is on nights like these that I begin to think of times gone by and the folklore of the past. I remember the elders telling tales around the campfire of the things they have seen in these swamps. And whether any of it was true or just the muscadine wine talking, as a child I did not question its validity. I think back to the times I would go camping and I would always hear sounds in the night. They always seemed so close, like I were being watched. I would tell myself it was just my father or my parrain sneaking around to make sure I was alright. But in the morning there were never any footprints to be found. And again I would wonder if these stories were true. Was there something that roamed these areas and lived in the bayou that I really did not want to believe could exist. Even now I choose not to look out the window during storms like these. Not so much out of fear of seeing it, but out of respect for the stories I remember from childhhood.

 

 

 I can remember hearing the tales of pigs and goats coming up missing without a trace but I shrugged these off as just tales of fancy. Or fishing nets being ripped to shreds and left barren or trotlines being stripped bare overnight. I myself have had traps broken or destroyed, but always assumed it was a coyote, but again, no tracks ever found. That always puzzled me since I consider myself a decent tracker. 

 

 

 I recall a time when I overheard my father talking to a couple trappers and when they saw me coming they went silent. But I know to this day without a shred of doubt in my mind, I heard them mention it's name. And even as I am typing this I have a cold chill running up my spine and a childlike desire to turn on more lights. I know as a fairly well educated man that this is purely my mind playing into childhood fantasies. But I also know that there are things in this world that we cannot explain. Just because I have not seen it does not make it any less real. I cannot see the wind but I have seen the destruction from a hurricane or tornado. As humans we feel we must see and be able to touch things in order to know they exist. And to be truly honest this one thing I would rather keep as a myth and never have the chance to look it in the eyes.

 

 

 I walk past the window and see the cold still blackness of the night and draw the curtains tight. I do not feel the need to look outside and chance letting my mind get the better of me. I return to my old wooden rocking chair in front of the fireplace and sit down on the fur blanket that I keep in it. Wrapping it around my legs to fight the chill I feel creeping over me. Slowly I sip my coffee and try to think of things of a more pleasant nature. But with every limb that cracks or branch that scrapes across my cabin roof I am instantly transported back to the thought of, what if. What if the stories were not just made up to keep children in line and keep us from sneaking out at night. What if the thing we all feared would come to get us one night were real. Another crack and I tense again, feeling like a foolish child. What if the thing that the oldest members of town say some have seen but no one would confess to, was actually out there. Another limb scratches across the tin roof and I jump. Now getting upset with myself for my behavior I decide this must stop. This thing is not now, nor has it ever been real.

 

 

 I stand and walk to the window and slowly grab the corner of the curtain. I swear I hear a board on the front porch creak as if someone were standing at the door. I muster my courage and ease back the curtain and I stand motionless as I am certain I saw something moving through the woods away from the cabin. But there is no animal that can move that quickly or could have cleared that fence in a single jump. To clear the fence and the bayou behind it would be a jump of at least 7 feet high and twenty feet in distance. I stand staring for what seems like minutes. Hoping to see it again and also praying not to. I finally close the curtain and walk to the door to open it and get some fresh air as I suddenly feel like I am losing it completely. I open the door and a chill cuts through me like a hot knife through butter. There are fresh puddles of water on the porch as if someone had come out of the storm and was standing at my door. But there are no tracks or boot prints to be seen anywhere. I feel my heart racing and realize I am shaking slightly as I turn to go back inside and see that there are scratches in the door and wall. They are not from any animal that I know of in this swamp. They are long and deep like a bear but spread farther apart than any bear could make. I am trying to process what has happened when I hear the most gutteral sound I have ever heard in my life. It is like a combination of the scream of a bobcat, the growl of a wolf and the roar of a bear combined. I go inside and lock and bar the door and stoke the fire as I spend the hours until daylight shaking and praying he does not return.

 

 

 I will tell no one I know of this because I will be thought insane. But from this night forward I will never doubt the existence of the

 

 

 Rougarou.

 

[shadowrider]

 Time Above All

 

  In this life I have found that few things are as precious as time. Yes love is arguably the most precious to humans. But time is equally if not more so in many ways. We are born with the ability to love beyond comprehension but we are also born with a certain amount of time to be on this planet. So I think that time may have the upper hand in this one. If you are lucky enough to find love but do not spend your time nurturing it, it is all for naught. We spend time looking for love. We hopefully spend it taking care of the love we find. Sometimes we lose love, either out of stupidity or just fate. Then we spend more time mourning the loss. When it all is said and done and you have the love that you have dreamed of and you think this love is unconditional, it will be time that takes it from you in the end. So my suggestion to anyone that is reading this is to stop for a second and examine your life and everyone and everything in it. Ignore the unimportant things and take time to be with the ones you care for. I know some of you are saying "but I don't have anyone", then you are not looking deep enough. I have found people here on site that I consider my friends/family so don't tell me you can't find someone. There is someone in your daily life that would like to hear from you and you could make their day by opening that dialogue. I recently went through a rough patch and I did just a small tiny gesture for a stranger at a meat market. She and her daughter were new in town and wanted to try some local things but couldn't decide what to try. So I bought them a local favorite and handed it to them as I was leaving. This gesture of kindness caused a total stranger to go giddy as a school girl and hug me like we were old friends. And at that precise moment in time that is what I needed more than anything. So I think we both were enriched by the experience of opening up to a more caring world. So find someone, even a stranger, and show them you care by giving them your most precious gift, your time. It only takes a second to smile or say hi, or ask how are you today. Because the only time wasted is that which does not enrich someones life.

Much love, peace, honor, respect, and joy to each of you.

[shadowrider]

 LONGING 

 

Come to the forest spring where wavelets 
Trembling o'er the pebbles glide 
And the drooping willow branches 
Its secluded threshold hide.

 

Eagerly your arms outstretching, 
Hurry dear to my embrace, 
That the breeze your hair will gather 
And uplift it from your face.

 

On my knees you will be seated 
Just we two alone, alone 
While upon your curls disordered 
Are the lime-tree's blossoms strown.

 

Forehead pale and tresses golden 
On my shoulder you incline, 
And your lip's delicious plunder 
Raise up willingly to mine.

 

We will dream a dream of fairies 
Rocked by secret lullaby, 
Which the lovely spring is chanting 
And the winds that wander by.

 

Midst that harmony thus sleeping 
Woodland tales our thoughts enthrall, 
And upon our bodies softly 
Do the lime-trees petal fall.

 

By: Mihai Eminescu

[shadowrider]

When you look at the old tiger in his cage
walking aimlessly from side to side 
always contained by the walls
don't take for granted that he is feeble and domesticated
I promise you he still has his teeth and claws
he suns himself stretched out on the rocks
so his majesty can be seen by all
he even growls occasionally
to delight all those watching from their safe haven
he waits patiently for the moment when guards are dropped
and defenses are let down
in that instant your world will be changed
as he finally releases years of rage
for he is tired of being a play thing on display
and his desire to be free is stronger than any cage

[shadowrider]

As the clouds move in I feel the darkness settle in around me. The winds begin to howl and the sound cuts through me like a knife. I know this night will be a long one, but I will stand my ground. I sit here thinking of the past, the present, and even dare to think of the future. Even though at this point the future seems more like a dream than a possibility. Is this just another storm blowing through or is this the one that will finally finish the job of tearing down everything I have built up. I hear the angry winds tearing at the roof and walls of this old ramshackle cabin and wonder just how much it can take. But I take comfort in the fact that it is still standing after all these years and has never given in no matter the fierceness of the storm.

[shadowrider]

 It's in those moments when you feel the weight of the world on you, walls closing in and crushing you. When everyone is calling and texting to tell you how they feel and how they get it. That they understand, when they don't have a clue as to the storm raging inside you, and how could they. You keep the demon caged so no one else can be hurt by it. So there is no way they can understand. You know they mean well but the problem is that what is attacking you is not what they are talking about. The feelings they think you are having died years ago, but this demon that you face is new. They have never seen the true face of evil or felt its cold clammy hands on their neck as it tries to lead them to a place they do not want to go. The torment of what ifs and maybes. Things that could have happened but did not. These are the claws that rip at you on a daily basis. You do not lament for what has been lost, for it was lost so long ago. This battle is between you and the possibilities that were never to be acknowledged. They try to understand but you have kept them from the truth because it would hurt them so much more than the reality they have come to embrace. So you fight this war alone, as it must be. Taking each new battle day by day and pushing this thing back to the depths from which it came. But there are times that you feel you can no longer stand against it. It's in these moments when the silent screams are the loudest. So you vent, or lash out, or let the evil thing twist your thoughts to its will. Then and only then do you realize you are no longer you, you are what it wants you to be. So you look deep inside and find the things you hold dear, the things you are most afraid to lose. These are what brings back the will to fight another day. These things are what rekindles the warriors spirit when he feels the battle is lost. And with these in mind you are able to stand tall and tell this evil you are not a toy for it's amusement. Your thoughts are your own and you will not be bound by this any longer. You look it in the eye and tell it "you have no power here any longer". I turn and walk away from this demon as it shall not haunt me further. 

[shadowrider]

A Simpler Time and Place

 

  It is early in the morning and the sun had just begun to break over the rolling hills to the east of the small township. It's golden yellow glow reflecting off of the pastel colored cottages that dot the countryside. With the majestic mountain range as a back drop this place has a beauty not even Rockwell could do justice. It appears to be a place that time has forgotten and neglected, but to me it is a place not yet ruined by the so called progress usually brought by the passing of time.

  Even this early in the day, the quaint village is coming alive with the hustle and bustle of daily life. There is a sheepherder following his flock of fluffy white charges over a distant ridge. Together they walk along a well worn path towards a lush green pasture. Along their way they amble past young children busily gathering wildflowers for an upcoming festival. Their clothes have such amazing detail and such vibrant colors, you would be hard pressed to describe them. Each child is dressed in the traditional ornate garb of their ancestors who performed these rituals before them. These festivals are a rich part of their heritage and you can see the joy in each smiling face. You can feel the love for their traditions and cannot help but smile along with them.

  As you walk along the street that winds through the center of the village you can feel the earth beneath your feet. It is not the hard asphalt we are accustomed to but good old fashioned dirt, the sustainer of life. There are tracks and grooves worn in it from the wheels of the farmers wagons as they haul their goods to and from market. The smell of fresh cut hay lingers from a cart that just passed. No doubt on it's way to feed hungry livestock.

  You notice the houses are not on top of each other as in most places, instead each has its own bit of land for working and growing what they need. Walking along you will see women feeding chickens and men milking cows and goats. While taking in the sites and sounds you will no doubt smell the aroma of breakfast being cooked in each house you pass. Fresh eggs and homemade breads served with a special treat of fresh sausages. A feast to behold and a smell you will not soon forget.

  You will notice each person going about the chores and tasks at hand, but more than that, you will notice a smile on each face you pass. It is this warm smile that you encounter time and time again that makes you feel instantly at ease, like you belong. The people here are warm and generous and more than happy to share their heritage with a new found friend. They are a special people that have lived here for generations. Working the land and using the tools their ancestors gave them to carve out a life in a piece of paradise.

  .............

[shadowrider]

The feeling lay deep within the soul.
Each day the call was becoming louder
Soon if not answered there will be destruction
With each encounter a strength is gained
Time now to organize the path
Be aware of what you have.

Stretch your realms of imagination
Ponder that which lays ahead
Find those who have what is needed
Replace your fears with strength
Within your mind the words will form
Soon it will be seen who you are.

Open up your heart it is time to share
Locate that which will nurture you
In every step will be a judgement
Fear not for the truth will come through
Trust not that which drives from the past. 

Alison Smith

[shadowrider]

Solitude 

 

With the curtains drawn together,  

At my table of rough wood,   

And the firelight flickering softly,  

Do I fall to thoughtful mood. 

 

Flocks and flocks of sweet illusions,  

Memories the mind recalls,  

And they softly creep like crickets  

Through time's grey and crumbled walls; 

 

Or they drop with gentle patter  

On the pavement of the soul,  

As does wax before God's altar   

From the sacred candles roll. 

 

About the room in every corner  

Silver webs the spiders sew,   

While among the dusty bookshelves   

Furtive mice soft come and go. 

 

And I gaze towards the ceiling   

That so many times I saw,  

And listen how the bindings   

With their tiny teeth they gnaw. 

 

O, how often have I wanted   

My worn lyre aside to lay;  

From poetry and solitude  

At last my thoughts to turn away. 

 

But again the mice, the crickets,  

With their small and rustling tread  

Awake in me familiar longings   

And with poetry fill my head. 

 

Once in a while, alas too rarely,  

When my lamp is burning late,   

Suddenly my heart beats wildly  

For I hear the latch-bar grate. 

 

It is She. My dusky chamber   

In a moment seems to glow;   

As if an icon's holy luster  

Did o'er life's threshold flow. 

 

And I know not how the moments  

Have the heart away to sneak,  

While we whisper low our loving,  

Hand in hand, and cheek to cheek. 

 

 

Mihai Eminescu

[shadowrider]

"Sympathy for Delicious"

Watched a movie over the weekend. "Sympathy for Delicious". The basic premise was, a newly paralyzed dj that lives out of his car goes to a faith healer and instead of getting healed he gets the gift of healing.

I won't spoil the ending but it got me thinking. If you were in his position. Would you rather be healed or get the power of healing? Oh yeah, it works on anyone but you, no self healing.

We all want to think that we are selfless and would of course much rather help others, but seriously think about being in that position. Would you happily go along helping others or maybe only those that could financially help you to make your life easier. It would be a blessing to see the lives you helped change but at the end of the day you are still confined to a wheelchair living out of your car.

 

[shadowrider]

I close my eyes take a deep breath and take flight, soaring high above this world and leaving all its troubles behind. I feel the warmth of the rising sun on my face and the wind around me. I smell the fresh salty aroma of the ocean and hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. For these rare moments of sleep and peaceful dreaming I am free

[shadowrider]

Here in the present

mind trapped in the past

dreaming of a future

but knowing nothing lasts

 

surrounded by darkness

judgement clouded by doubt

searching for the light

but cant seem to find a way out

 

I'm torn by choices

and always walking too close to the fire

my confusion is getting worse

yet I am still driven by desire

 

my mind and soul are twisted

and of feelings I am bereft

everything has been stripped from me 

my dreams are all I have left

 

even though the odds are stacked

I refuse to give up or give in

I would rather crawl through this darkness

than walk through fake light and pretend

 

look down upon me from your flimsy towers

and consider me less if you must

but when this life is all over

you will be here with me, back in the dust

 

Rob

[shadowrider]

Night Visitor

 

  I am sitting outside amidst the tall piney woods enveloped in darkness. The crisp night air sends a chill over me as I look to the star filled sky. I wait patiently for the arrival of a friend I know will be appearing soon. I some how sense he is near before I see him. He swoops in without a sound as if gliding on moonbeams. He heads directly for me as if he has something to tell me. At the last second he darts upward just missing my head. He flies in and out of sight darting between the over hanging limbs. I catch fleeting glimpses of him as the light from the moon bounces off his wings. He flies silently, gliding through the air in a random zig zag fashion. The insects of the night have no defense from his precision targeting. Occasionally when his prey is large enough, like a sizable moth, I can hear the hit as he slams into them midair. Once in a while he will give me a fly by close enough that I can hear his wings fluttering, usually startling me in the process. It still amazes me at his ability to dart and dodge with such accuracy at the speeds he travels. One last circle behind my head and he is gone as quickly as he came. Vanishing into the vastness of the world beyond the tree line. Until I see you again my little bat friend, enjoy your night.

[shadowrider]

Dragon's Kiss 

 

A note for the chilihead

 

 

 

 

 

  Most people would call you a fool for doing this and would never try it because they are bound by their own feelings of trepidation. You know it is going to bite you in the arse but the rush it brings is worth the price you'll pay. In the beginning it won't matter if you take a little or a lot, the initial reaction will be the same. But you know to reach the heightened state you crave you have to go big. You start with a few deep breaths because you know soon your breathing will become labored, if it comes at all. One last deep inhale and you go for it, taking about half the pepper in one big bite. Chewing slowly and deliberately knowing that you have approximately 5 seconds before the first wave of heat comes on. You taste the subtle flavor of fruit and a hint of sweet as you swallow. That's when you begin feeling the capsaicin as it penetrates every receptor in your tongue. There is a deliberate burn coming on and this is where most people would stop. But you take the rest of the pepper, all the way to the stem, in a final bite. Now there is no tangy fruit or sweet, just heat. You can feel it from your lips all the way down your throat. At this point the intensity is growing exponentially and there is no turning back. Twenty seconds in and your eyes are beginning to water. Another ten and your nose starts to run like a leaking faucet. It's at roughly the forty five second mark that you feel the scratch in the back of your throat. By this time you have already eaten another pepper and are feeling the beads of sweat starting to form under your eyes. They spread almost as quickly as the heat and now your forehead is covered in tiny droplets as your body tries to no avail to expel some of the fire you ingested. It is at this point that you notice you have developed a subconscious cough. It is your body's way of trying to deal with the heat that has settled in the back of your throat. It is more of a grunt than a cough, like clearing your throat constantly. The burning is so intense now that your mouth feels like you stuck your tongue in a light socket. Another bite and you feel your scalp start to itch. It feels almost like there are ants crawling all over your head. You are now hearing a high pitched buzzing sound and the inside of your ears is tingling. This may be from an elevation in blood pressure since you can now feel your heartbeat pounding in your head and chest. It is at this moment when every part of you is either burning, sweating, or tingling, that you find euphoria. This feeling is fleeting and will be gone soon as with any high. You will be left with a scorched mouth and throat, not to mention the other aftermath it leaves in its wake. You will no doubt pay for dancing with this devil. But for those who crave the dragons kiss the price is fair enough. 

 

[shadowrider]

Finding Myself – A Poem About the Journey of Self Discovery

 

Written by Justin Farley

 

The search for truth keeps me

Trekking across uncharted lands

And diving under unventured seas

Where I find myself alone,

Without the comfort of familiarity.

 

I have walked out onto the plank too far

To not take the plunge –

Bound myself in the shackles of curiosity

And distanced myself from past experiences

And previous peers.

I was once a jolly pirate,

But am now the prisoner

They push overboard and feed to the sharks.

 

But I must listen to the call of my heart –

The call that won’t let me live content

Following worn paths walked by countless others,

Taking the road society says leads to success.

I wish it wasn’t so…

It would be much easier

If I could distract myself from meaning,

From searching for the answers to this string of thoughts

Unraveling in my mind, but I cannot.

 

I can’t look upon the forest

In the midst of spring,

Watch the birds rest atop

The branches at the break of dawn,

Or feel the wind breathe across my face

Without the taste of some eternal truth

Lingering on the tip of my tongue,

Reminding me of a magic I felt

During days when I was young,

Some glorious mystery that awakens

My taste buds and makes them yearn for more.

 

I am a seeker,

Seeking beauty, seeking truth.

And to deny myself the journey of self discovery

For the sake of comfort

Is a travesty of my heart

And of the one who created it.

 

It’s never easy to abandon the crowds,

Leave the pack,

And become a lone wolf,

But by keeping the status quo

You’ll never find the piece of yourself

You’ve been missing all your life –

The piece of you that you’ve been afraid to acknowledge,

The piece of you that connects you to your destiny,

The piece of your puzzle that fits perfectly into place

Forming a beautiful portrait,

And the piece of you that makes you come alive.

 

It’s time.

You’re ready.

Share the real you

With the world.

[shadowrider]

The Dreamer

The lone man gazed and gazed upon his gold,
His sweat, his blood, the wage of weary days;
But now how sweet, how doubly sweet to hold
All gay and gleamy to the campfire blaze.
The evening sky was sinister and cold;
The willows shivered, wanly lay the snow;
The uncommiserating land, so old,
So worn, so grey, so niggard in its woe,
Peered through its ragged shroud. The lone man sighed,
Poured back the gaudy dust into its poke,
Gazed at the seething river listless-eyed,
Loaded his corn-cob pipe as if to smoke;
Then crushed with weariness and hardship crept
Into his ragged robe, and swiftly slept.

. . . . .

Hour after hour went by; a shadow slipped
From vasts of shadow to the camp-fire flame;
Gripping a rifle with a deadly aim,
A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes . . .

* * * * * * *

The sleeper dreamed, and lo! this was his dream:
He rode a streaming horse across a moor.
Sudden 'mid pit-black night a lightning gleam
Showed him a way-side inn, forlorn and poor.
A sullen host unbarred the creaking door,
And led him to a dim and dreary room;
Wherein he sat and poked the fire a-roar,
So that weird shadows jigged athwart the gloom.
He ordered wine. 'Od's blood! but he was tired.
What matter! Charles was crushed and George was King;
His party high in power; how he aspired!
Red guineas packed his purse, too tight to ring.
The fire-light gleamed upon his silken hose,
His silver buckles and his powdered wig.
What ho! more wine! He drank, he slowly rose.
What made the shadows dance that madcap jig?
He clutched the candle, steered his way to bed,
And in a trice was sleeping like the dead.

. . . . .

Across the room there crept, so shadow soft,
His sullen host, with naked knife a-gleam,
(A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes.) . . .
And as he lay, the sleeper dreamed a dream.

* * * * * *

'Twas in a ruder land, a wilder day.
A rival princeling sat upon his throne,
Within a dungeon, dark and foul he lay,
With chains that bit and festered to the bone.
They haled him harshly to a vaulted room,
Where One gazed on him with malignant eye;
And in that devil-face he read his doom,
Knowing that ere the dawn-light he must die.
Well, he was sorrow-glutted; let them bring
Their prize assassins to the bloody work.
His kingdom lost, yet would he die a King,
Fearless and proud, as when he faced the Turk.
Ah God! the glory of that great Crusade!
The bannered pomp, the gleam, the splendid urge!
The crash of reeking combat, blade to blade!
The reeling ranks, blood-avid and a-surge!
For long he thought; then feeling o'er him creep
Vast weariness, he fell into a sleep.

. . . . .

The cell door opened; soft the headsman came,
Within his hand a mighty axe a-gleam,
(A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes,) . . .
And as he lay, the sleeper dreamed a dream.

* * * * * *

'Twas in a land unkempt of life's red dawn;
Where in his sanded cave he dwelt alone;
Sleeping by day, or sometimes worked upon
His flint-head arrows and his knives of stone;
By night stole forth and slew the savage boar,
So that he loomed a hunter of loud fame,
And many a skin of wolf and wild-cat wore,
And counted many a flint-head to his name;
Wherefore he walked the envy of the band,
Hated and feared, but matchless in his skill.
Till lo! one night deep in that shaggy land,
He tracked a yearling bear and made his kill;
Then over-worn he rested by a stream,
And sank into a sleep too deep for dream.

. . . . .

Hunting his food a rival caveman crept
Through those dark woods, and marked him where he lay;
Cowered and crawled upon him as he slept,
Poising a mighty stone aloft to slay --
(A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes.) . . .

* * * * * *

The great stone crashed. The Dreamer shrieked and woke,
And saw, fear-blinded, in his dripping cell,
A gaunt and hairy man, who with one stroke
Swung a great ax of steel that flashed and fell . . .
So that he woke amid his bedroom gloom,
And saw, hair-poised, a naked, thirsting knife,
A gaunt and hairy man with eyes of doom --
And then the blade plunged down to drink his life . . .
So that he woke, wrenched back his robe, and looked,
And saw beside his dying fire upstart
A gaunt and hairy man with finger crooked --
A rifle rang, a bullet searched his heart . . .

* * * * * *

The morning sky was sinister and cold.
Grotesque the Dreamer sprawled, and did not rise.
For long and long there gazed upon some gold
A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes.

 

by Robert William Service

[shadowrider]

Looking Back
by Edgar A. Guest

 

I might have been rich if I'd wanted the gold
instead of the friendships I've made.
I might have had fame if I'd sought for renown
in the hours when I purposely played.
Now I'm standing to-day on the far edge of life,
and I'm just looking backward to see
What I've done with the years and the days that were mine,
and all that has happened to me.

 

I haven't built much of a fortune to leave
to those who shall carry my name,
And nothing I've done shall entitle me now
to a place on the tablets of fame.
But I've loved the great sky and its spaces of blue;
I've lived with the birds and the trees;
I've turned from the splendor of silver and gold
to share in such pleasures as these.

 

I've given my time to the children who came;
together we've romped and we've played,
And I wouldn't exchange the glad hours spent
with them for the money that I might have made.
I chose to be known and be loved by the few,
and was deaf to the plaudits of men;
And I'd make the same choice should the chance
come to me to live my life over again.

 

I've lived with my friends and I've shared in their joys,
known sorrow with all of its tears;
I have harvested much from my acres of life,
though some say I've squandered my years.
For much that is fine has been mine to enjoy,
and I think I have lived to my best,
And I have no regret, as I'm nearing the end,
for the gold that I might have possessed.

Edited March 15, 2017 by shadowrider

[Hurndauke]

Always good to think out loud.

[shadowrider]

“A lesson from the lawn.”

Imagine if a blade of grass decided it had had enough. It was done with having its head snipped off every weekend and its seeds – its future – cut off in their prime. Who could blame it?

Yet, what does that ole blade of grass do? It doesn’t say: “I give up! I’m getting nowhere!” It just keeps on growing. It continually takes in the energy from the sunlight and magically converts carbon dioxide from the air into food to make more leaves and more seeds.

A blade of grass is resilient.

You too, can learn to be as resilient as the grass. You may be cut down on a regular basis, yet your strength is in standing up, dusting yourself off, and starting all over again. Even when grass is covered in concrete, it finds a way to grow up through the cracks.

And, so must you.

Take a “leaf” out of the grass’ book. Connect with your own resilience and keep on growing.

 

 

 

Not sure of the author sadly.

Have seen this in several places with each claiming it or not showing the authors name.