Monthly Archives: May 2009

He left her

He left her hanging
A Monet with no River Seine

He left her barren
An open book with no pages

He left her questioning
A riddle with no answer

He left her doubting
The truth of her very existence

He left her incomplete
Energy work only half started

He left her drowning
Gasping for breath within his mire

He left her broken
To sift the pieces of her shattered soul

He left her knowing
Demons walk among us in this material world

He left her prepared for battle
Should the next life find their souls colliding

He left her without warning
An illusion within his own

© jillterry

Advertisements

Of human connections

He was
The sum of
All fear

And for a
Moment
I loved him
Madly

Ⓒjillterry


Some times

Sometimes I just
Want to scream
The truth of others
Too much to take

Zero tolerance
Lack of character
Human ignorance
Me mentality

People spewing
Meaningless words
No forethought
No consideration
To consequential results

Self-centered nature
Tunnel vision
Unable to see
Beyond themselves

Ⓒjillterry


Memory Holes

Tunnel

My mission was clear, determined in the hours preceding my slumber. A journey must be made in order to obtain the necessary information to formulate my plot. And so under the cloak of darkness, when my body and mind were at rest and the door to world’s unknown lay open and waiting, my spirit took flight and magically passed through.

Preparation of meditation and cleansing are no longer necessary for me, as once they were. I simply bring to the forefront of my thinking that a journey is required, and once I reach a plateau of unconsciousness where my spirit is able to detach itself, it does so eagerly and without pause. As if triggering a mechanism, all that I see, hear, feel, taste and touch are recorded in the memory banks of my mind; for future extraction upon reentry of my spirit.

Astral flight, astral projection, out-of-body experience; call it what you will, the process is the same, though the outcome widely varies. Normally, there is a clear and decisive reason for these journeys; as the answer to a question or solution to a problem is sought. This time, however, I left myself wide open with no particular question or problem, just the need and want to visit a dimension I had never before traveled, in order to capture and create from whence I had come.

I was not disappointed, but I was however distressed and somewhat traumatized by the experience. It was as if I was being led, instead of traveling of my own free will, and the one doing the leading had a specific reason for taking me there. The reason was to reacquaint me with my sin. The destination was HELL!

The corridor was long and dark, with hard-packed dirt floors and walls of rock that were high and arched; like the tunnels they dig through mountains, only there was no end in sight.

As I was led through the center of the tunnel, glass-fronted rooms lined either side. In each room, or life-size box as I came to think of them, was a specific scene from my life; scenes of sin that I had forced myself to forget; filing them away in the deepest recesses of my mind, where I was certain they would stay locked. Suddenly, and without warning, forced to relive each and every one.

To stand outside the box and watch, grateful when the show was over and the box went dark; only to turn and see the miles and miles of sin that lay ahead; sin that I must now suffer; as no thought, regard or consideration was given at the time.

The dread I felt, at the prospect of having to suffer so many, pales in comparison to the shame, regret and repulsion I felt; as I watched myself commit one deadly sin after another.

I begged for mercy, but mercy was not given; for this is death at its inception and what each and every one of us must go through. While the decision has already been made, the process by which it was determined is played out for us; right before our eyes, in the form of our lives.

“Be certain that your sins will find you out.”
Numbers 32:23

Ⓒjillterry


Life’s revolving door

Sitting for hours
Head full of foils
Watching in boredom
The continuous revolving
Door

A plethora of aged
Women
All come to get
Their hair done

Most of them there
Simply for cuts

One sassy dame
Opting for color
Burgundy streaks
In her thick
Silver mane

While others received
Their weekly roll

What struck me
Straightaway
Was their sense
Of style

Prominently reflected
In their choice of
Youthful clothes

So deeply that
I watched
In quiet fascination
Looking beyond
What time had
Done

With a shift of
Perception
Their spirits shown
Through

Time elapsed
In reverse

Until one-by-one
Young women
Emerged

I couldn’t help
But wonder
As I gazed at
My own
Reflection

How I will be
Perceived
Once old age
Claims me

Ⓒjillterry


Insanity’s Final Adieu

His was a miserable life; wandering the globe pretending to be lost, feigning insanity due to all sorts of abuse; self-inflicted, youthful demons victim, to any and all who showed the slightest inclination of interest. In truth, he knew exactly where he was going, what the cost would be to get there; needing only to cross paths with enough unsuspecting souls to help him reach his final goal.

His mantra; a worn out stanza touting suicidal tendencies, despair and angst; deviously reaching out, spewing his seed deep into the core of one vulnerable victim after another. Setting his life on cruise control; riding the tides at the expense of others; completely void of moral conscience. Reveling in his cunning; laughing yass…Yass…YASS!!!

Glorifying and romanticizing his untimely demise; misunderstood soul, plagued to the point of suicide; lamented by the masses, singing his praises; his spirit rising, watching from above. Egomaniac, if ever there was. Imagining himself, even in death; the center of attention, in the form of ash.

What he didn’t equate in the miles obsessively tracked, was the road itself reaching up; in the cloak of darkness, snatching his pathetic ass. There would be no bright light, no tunnel of peace; only a blazing ball of fire, an eternity of scorching heat.

The spell broken at the moment of death; his pact with the devil signed and sealed; damaged souls once broken, now healed. A fitting adieu; to one who once declared that Karma is but a word…

Ⓒjillterry


Bucks on the beach…

…where I want to be

bucks on the beach


Processing and purging

Hearing the truth
The ugly truth
Trying hard to process
What it really means

Was always a bitter pill
But somehow easier to swallow
At least when there was something
A reason on which to blame

Delusional
Madness
Insanity
Lunacy

An innate inability
To deal
To cope
To live
To feel

A falsity I now
Am forced to ingest
For the veil has been lifted
On his façade of mental illness

Ⓒjillterry


%d bloggers like this: