Transverse L train tracks. His momentum stopped by 3rd rail and oncoming train.
Leftover burnt parts carefully wrapped in a shroud encased in pine box. Neatly packaged and wrapped in time for the holidays. A gift his mother could not accept.
Dance of the Dead.
Fears are paper tigers. (Amelia Earhart)
Sometimes you should be afraid. Fear can protect you from doing something possibly fatal to your existence!!
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Banquet of the Starved by James Ensor (Belgian, Ostend 1860–1949 Ostend)
Completed the Veteran’s Administration Online form to apply for health care. Hopefully they should get back to me in about two weeks. Once the VA gets back to me then I’ll set up an appointment not just for medical care but to avail myself of any other services and programs they VA has for Women Veterans. I served my country now it is time for my country to lend me a helping hand.
In the Meantime I’m……..
Dreaming Down a Well
I’m Dreaming Down a Well. Looking into the Abyss wondering how to fetch my dreams and save them from imminent disaster. I can see them. Arms stretched out waiting for me to throw Life Preservers. Life Jackets. A Net. Anything they can grab onto for salvation from a watery grave.
A Bucket. Damaged. A Rope. Now Long Since Frayed. Worn from constant use.
Send in the Buffalo Soldiers! Call forth the Avenging Angels of Mercy!
No Regrets? Yes I regret. A Youth Long Gone. Relegated to Ancient Myst’s.
Double V for Victory. Victory at Overseas. Victory at Home.
Star-seed buried in the sand awaits fertile ground. Resurrection. Regeneration. New Birth.
Nailiah nuzzled the earth like a hungry lamb or goat bleating out hunger cries in search for a Merciful Mother. Searching out the Allegorical Lessons of the Cave.
I bid the powers of the Luxurious Fox for release and redemption. Banished from Exile.
Out of Sync.
Re-Calibrating. Re~calibrating.
Scraping my scabby putrefying boils with pottery shards. Rocking the earth with wailing prayers. When I shed my old skin will that be my freedom?
The rich spit upon the poor
telling them it is nectar from the gods.
Downtrodden souls gather at the feast
waiting for crumbs that are snatched away
from their outstretched hands mid-grasp.
Turned away from the billionaire festival
we can only gaze with hungry eyes
and swollen bellies
never to know paradise
until gathered to Abraham’s bosom.
Espiritu en Fuego/A Fiery Spirit 