Freeing Fingers

Frightfuly, slowly, gently
my fingers find the keys,
formulating words in an
ATTEMPT
to free the mind of thought.

Trepidation, Fear, Anguish
delay the steady process;
fantom images within
ATTEMPT
to remain within.

Resuming quickly, surely, and confidently,
INSUBORDINATELY
my fingers abandon norm in pursuit of
ILLUMINATION.

SUBERVIENT no longer
to self DOUBT, they dance through the letters,
CAUTIOUSLY divulging what they've been WRONGFULLY
denied.

TAUNTING, deviating, MEDITATING,
the words emerge full of meaning and no spite;
Fingers, don't fail me now -
SPEAK FREELY:
 no one can hear you.

And if you're heard? Oh that fear of being known!
ACKNOLEDGE, APPROVE AND REPRISE
that skill of story telling using
FACTS to INFORM rather than
MISLEAD.

FEAR Not DESPAIR,
the spell has been broken;
through these inactive, INARTICULATE fingers
I've regained CONTROL.

Likely to be called an idiot or perhaps even illetarate
my fingeres disregard these thoughts and continue to splurge;
GRATIFIED in their efforts,
fingers, GENTLEMEN that you are, shall remain
quiet now that they've said so much.

Rock on

The sounds travel in the air, floating, swaying, dancing to my ears.
I change the station, seeking resonance in sound.
The notes again in the air, floating, pulsating in my ears.
My demeanor changes.
I sit up straight.
My head instinctively nods, as if agreeing with the ferocious notes.
My foot taps against the floor without my brain directing it.
Within me raises the need to lift my hand, clenched tight into a fist attacking nothing to emit into the world the life rock gives me.
it's not defiance or anger that draws me like a magnet to it. Nor is it compliance or peer pressure that kept me.
Rock reassures me of my own life. It demands that I respond to it, promoting me to move, inducing me to feel and react.

Ignore me, Kindly.

Another day, another pain; your absence is present.
It's not the love lost, but the never fact that it was never gained.

I long for your touch, for your embrace, your kiss.
I want to feel your body close to mine, intertwined as our souls combine.

Alas! Reality sets in; you're nowhere near to vanquish my pain.
How could I forgotten, you're the culprit of this endless inner rain.

The more I want to feel you, the further you seem to be. Thank you.
The distance that you keep between us the one good thing you've done for me.

Euphoric exhaustion

This has, in all honesty, become one of my favorite hobbies; I feel blogging is the only platform through which I can express myself. Of course not everything that is uttered from these lips is of importance, as a matter of fact it very seldom is. Still, most times after my fingers type the last few words, the insides of my body, those unseen and domineering emotions that guide many of the actions in my life, suddenly cease the tremendous gusts that have rhythmically accompanied my emotive breathing during those moments.
The new fresh breath that enters my body and circulates through my system is cathortic; the page before me which a short while earlier laid naked in the vast world of cyberspace had morphed into an extention of me. Now it's almost as though the fingers were the ones controlling everything, my brain isn't sending signals to the arms, hands, etc. No, there can't be any throught in the release I'm experiencing now. The index, middle, ring and pinky fingers run through the keyboard like militant soldiers on the offensive, pressing, pushing, darting keys against an invisible enemy. Breathe.
Nothing has ever given me this high, or low, in my life. Immensly gratifiying and joyful thoughts are now perspired through my pores and breath, my skin glimmering with the plenitude of liquid secreting along the top until enough has gathered to march either one by one or in large groups toward the invitable gravital pull of the earth. Melancholy engulfs me as more and more drops fall dead silent onto the ground; I want to put them back inside me and fulfill the emotions they had evoked in me so many other times.
Those days are gone, never to come back; before my eyes my sweaty euphoria is consumed by the earth and arid heat. Exhaustion overtakes me, my body weakening from the tirades brought on by excessive and at times unachievable acts performed throughout my day. The wind comforts me, blowing gently all around me, embracing me in the cool air it brings for us to endure the Sun's unyielding and unpardoning rays. The gusts and the loose dirt form a dancing cloud near me, piroeting and grazing all around me until I am in the center of them, emotions once more rising in me, this time frantic and mournful as the particles around me are driven into my system like icepicks and baseballs in rapid and continuous tempo.
Fear suddenly and independently subsides, and the attacking wind along with the torpedoing earth vanish. Cool winds return apologetically, caressing every inch of our exposed bodies like a silk string across the open land, antipathically mocking the child behind it with each twirl. I'm distracted from the progression of objects by a plant emerging as a result of my earlier dehydration. It was reselient - it'd managed to survive when we were running all over it; it was strong too, and beautiful. I realize now that the beauty all around me, the good an d the bad, is a direct result of the euphoric exhaustion women have endured since the beginning of time.