A Year of Firsts

Someone let Cie loose in Photoshop again

A Year of Firsts

A Gift

You opened my heart

For the first time I know love

Wish I could heal you

A Double Shot for those who would judge my emotions

I shoot from the hip

For the first time in my life

He taught me that too

My experience

Was not lived for you to judge

Think first on your words

~Cie~

Prompt used:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

Unexpected Fireworks

Image Source

Fireworks in Detroit

 

Unexpected Fireworks

 

I expected quiet

I didn't expect fireworks

But you delivered

 

~Cie~

 



Much Ado About A Whole Lot of No-One

 



Much Ado About A Whole Lot of No-One

 

I shall become an illeist

As I write this bit of fizzle

It may seem a thing of great conceit

When one drones on about oneself like drizzle

 

The Cheese is not an android

She often makes herself a fool

She's at the intersection between too closed and too open

Her defensive posture leads to ridicule

 

The Cheese is kind of ghetto

She has skin as pale as zinc

Some say a body like a draftsack

Most men from her would shrink

 

In her younger days, she liked to make mischief

But she had a heart of gold

Now her heart is hard as brick

Her once loving spirit is cold

 

It sometimes seems she might strangle

In the tangled web her psyche weaves

It might seem she doesn't know how to give love

In truth, she doesn't know how to receive

 

So now you know a little bit about Cheesy

And this might not seem to be very nice

But there might be a lesson for you to heed

In knowing folk with unlucky rolls on life's dice

 

Cie AKA Cheesy

 

 

 

If I’m living on borrowed time, do you think I’m gonna waste my time conforming?

Current age: 62 and has no memories of his accomplishments or his family and friends.
Age at onset of dementia: 55 (and fuck you, Universe)

Lewy Body Dementia discovered post-suicide Age: 63

The Real Cie's aunt: probable Lewy Body Dementia, age of diagnosis: 72

Me: Age 49, will be 50 on February 15.

TRIGGER WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE IDEATION

Here's what I'm noticing. This kind of shit seems to be happening in younger and younger people. I'm not a scientist. Nor am I particularly given to believing in conspiracy theories. The Illumin-Naughty seem as likely to exist as the Illuminati, as far as I'm concerned. But I do see a pattern.

I think our world is polluted as fuck, and it's killing us in various and horrible ways. I think all the people succumbing to these shitty forms of dementia have been poisoned by our toxic environment, and it isn't going to get any better anytime soon.

I evidently have a genetic trigger for this shit, and I have been thinking. I may be living on borrowed time. And if I am, I'm going to off myself when I get the diagnosis. I've taken care of people with dementia for all but five years since 1988. I am not putting myself or my son through that shit.

Given that there's a fair possibility that I'm living on borrowed time, do you know what the fuck I'm not going to do?

Care about a bunch of rules set down by a bunch of stodgy, imagination-impaired, heartless, inflexible assholes. 

Believe as I do. Don't believe as I do. I really don't care. But don't fucking tell me how to think and feel. I was never going to conform to your standards anyway. Given that I may only have five or ten years left, I'm going to conform to them even less.

I have an open mind about metaphysical possibilities. I'm not going to close my mind because my beliefs make some people uncomfortable.

I love what and who I love. If you have a problem with that, take a look in the damn mirror as you point your finger at me. Then take a look at the three fingers pointing back at you.

I'm actually not afraid of this possibility. I'm pretty stoic about it. I've had suicide ideation pretty much all my life. I'm not afraid to die. My life hasn't been an easy one. Sometimes I think the easiest thing in the world would be to down a whole bunch of pills with a butt ton of alcohol and just let the world fuck off at last. I'm sick and tired of hearing what a fuckup I am echoing in my damn head all the time.

I'm not doing it today. So don't get your hackles up searching my URL to try and find out where I'm located. This isn't a "right now" suicide note. This is a "if I'm diagnosed with dementia I'm offing myself" note. Because fuck that shit.

So anyway, if I believe in the possibility of ghosts and incarnate people communicating with each other and maybe even becoming friends or falling in love, who the fuck is anyone else to tell me I can't believe that? 

If I believe the personality survives the death of the body, who the fuck is anyone to tell me I can't believe that?

If I believe in an afterlife, but not an afterlife that adheres to some particular set of dogma created by a bunch of stodgy old fucks to control the masses, well, that is what I believe. If it brings you comfort to think of me frying in a fiery pit because of my beliefs, perhaps you're the sick fuck, not me. 

If I believe in reincarnation, how the fuck is that hurting you?

People are always so all-fired hot to tell other people what they should and shouldn't think and feel. I've had it up to here with that shit. None of us knows for sure what happens after we die. My theories are as valid as anyone else's. More to the point, I don't shove them down anybody's throat. 

I guess my point is this. I don't know if I'm living on borrowed time or not, but I damn well could be. Do you think I'm gonna waste that time trying to please anybody by conforming to their particular reality? I can't live your damn reality, nor do I want to. I can only live my own. 

Stop trying to tell other people what to believe, think and feel. As long as what you're doing isn't hurting anybody else, it's nobody's damn business.

One thing I aim to do. When I do get to the other side, whenever that is, I am going to give both of the dudes pictured a great big warm hug, because they both touched my life for the better and both pulled me through when I was a very sad, lonely, and bullied teenager. I wished both of them could be my friends.

I totally shipped "Mork" as my best platonic friend back in the day, and you will never guess which band was Mork's and my favorite. When you're a sad and miserable twelve or thirteen year old, that kind of thing can mean a lot.

When people judge another person's reality based on their own set of experiences, they do the person they're judging a great disservice.

Both Malcolm Young and Robin Williams taught me a lot. The biggest thing they taught me is that having compassion is the most important thing. As neither of them are conventionally attractive, they also taught me that true beauty is in the soul. Not that either of them are ugly, but neither of them would ever be considered "hunky" by any stretch of the imagination.

Both of them struggled with depression and addiction issues. These are certainly things to which I can relate. 

These are beautiful people--truly beautiful people, not Hollywood hyped beautiful on the outside hollow on the inside glamour seeking glory grabbers. If I do end up being one of the many succumbing to the horror of dementia, at least I will know I am in glorious company. I love you Mal, and I love you Robin. And I do not give one single fuck what anyone thinks of that statement.

I guess I've said what I need to say. It pretty well boils down to this. Quit fucking judging. You do not know what another person is going through or what they have been through. Since you haven't experienced their life, you aren't qualified to judge it.

I can't live as if there's no tomorrow, because my Last Day may be here sooner than I ever would have imagined. I have to get what I can done in what time I may have left. I'm not wasting that time conforming to anyone else's bullshit standards.

~Cie~

Hidden Treasure

Copyright: / 123RF Stock Photo

Hidden Treasure

A Love Story

Mine is a journey taken mostly alone

Awaiting forever for the arrival of one who might understand

I hear the clock chime in the supposed house of the holy

As I arise for the evening to ingest my lonely meal before heading off to work

I hear people laughing outside, and I sigh sadly

Wondering what it might be to have someone to laugh with me

I make my way into the night, hearing my heart beat

Thinking it might fall silent at any moment, as heavily as my loneliness weighs upon it

All at once I see something on the corner

A creature pale and plain, with a scar upon his face

Looking like a forlorn stray cat at once afraid of and desiring companionship

A ghost in the light of the lamp, made nearly invisible by the snow

Everyone else passes him by, seeing nothing

But I acknowledge his presence, and a smile graces his forlorn face

Like me, he has been alone in the world for what seems like countless years

I invite him to accompany me, and together we walk on

Nobody else can see my one true friend

A simple spirit pale and plain, overlooked by the majority of passerby

But beautiful to me, scarred face and all

Bringing color to my once gray world, and love to my once lonely heart

Sometimes the things ignored by the majority

Because they are not overtly eye-catching

Are in fact the most beautiful and fetching

Because they are the realest things of all

~Cie~



Fallen Angel

Fallen Angel

My fallen angel

Wrap me in your broken wings

Let me ease your pain

~Cie~

Wish For Dreams That Never Come True

Image Source

 

Wish For Dreams That Never Come True

 

Why bother to wish

On shooting stars for those things

I know cannot be

 

~Cie~

 

 

More and Less than Human

 

 

More and Less than Human

 

My eyes have seen you

Perform before ten times a thousand and more

Being onstage got you high

But it also made you panic

 

To perform was always your choice

It was the way that you expressed yourself

Because sometimes it was hard for you to talk

Especially when you needed help

 

You were always willing to help others

But when it came to your own needs, you hit a snag

Perhaps you thought you could sweat it out if you worked hard enough

You thought you could burn your troubles out of your body

 

People like you are more and less than human

In the eyes of your audience

The crowd sees you as both invincible and fatally flawed

You can't win in the arena of public opinion

 

My eyes have seen you

As more lofty than the archangels

As broken as a shattered China cup

As wonderfully and exquisitely anomalous

 

I wish my eyes did not have to see you lose yourself

 

~Cie~

 

 

 

 

 

Lonely Dreamer

Image Source

Lonely Dreamer

Lost in lonely dreams

On pillow of leaves and straw

I envision you

~Rose~

Dedicated to Reg Presley, in honor of his beautiful song "Night of the Long Grass"

Rest in peace, Reg.

12 June 1941 – 4 February 2013

Aphrodite's Gift

Image by Frances Holly

Aphrodite's Gift

If I could do one thing for you, dear mortal, to ease your pain

I would help you stay hidden so the stars eclipse

And you could slip into thine hour of secrecy

To find the one for whom you long awaiting you

During the eclipse dreams come true

And love is burning diamonds in thy true lover’s breast

Thy desire feeds his need

I would give up any chance for future passion of my own

If I could prepare the ground for a love so beautiful to blossom

To let a quiet spirit and a restless heart find comfort in one another’s arms

Do not repent the dreams that spill from your eyes as tears

Do not deny the goodness in your heart

Do not isolate yourself in shame

Do not fear the embrace of night

When the moon reaches its zenith in the sky

Let your loved one wrap his arms around you

Willingly accept his kisses

Know that he wants you as you do him

Such sweetness will turn sad hearts young

In the darkness, love knows no shame

The true will allows itself to shine

Open your heart to the darkness

And let his light in

~Eleonora~

hidden so the stars eclipse – Our Daily Becoming by Adam Clay

And love is burning diamonds in my true lover’s breast – Summer by John Clare

Into thine hour of secrecy – Spirits of the Dead by Edgar Allan Poe

(Not So) Wordless Wednesday: He Will Not Be Forgotten

Note:

The following song was written about a romantic breakup. It takes on a different connotation when applied to the scenario in which a person is losing their memories but another remembers everything for and about them. I never touched the person whom this post honors. He is something seraphic in my eyes, too good for this ugly world.

I struggled with whether or not to even post this, so if you comment, be decent about it, would ya?

Seven months to the day since I saw your face
You roam the earth like a fire holding out 'til the bitter end
You're holding on 'til the bitter end

I take a walk into town
It's like a dead-end street
The sidewalk sings your name underneath my feet
Echoes of forgotten love

Baby, where did you go?
Did you sail away over some distant ocean?
Darling, what we had
It cannot be taken
It cannot be stolen
And it won't be forgotten
No, it won't be forgotten

Summer disappears like a dream I had
And winter comes with a knife that cuts you down
And it never ends
Ooh, it never ends

I hurry past the place you like to drink alone
Seven months to the day you left me here on this avenue
And now I think of you

Baby, where did you go?
Did you sail away over some distant ocean?
Darling, what we had
It cannot be taken
It cannot be broken
And it won't be forgotten
No, it won't be forgotten

Seven months to the day and you don't leave a trace
I search the cracks in the ground, the tallest buildings
They never knew, oh they never knew

Baby, where did you go?
Did you sail away over some distant ocean?
Darling, what we had
It cannot be taken
It cannot be broken
And it won't be forgotten

Baby, where did you go?
Did you sail away over some distant ocean?
Darling, what we had
It cannot be taken
It cannot be stolen
And it won't be forgotten
No, it won't be forgotten

Cross-Posted to:

Dream About Me Sweet Brother

 (NSFW Blog, explicit gay erotica)

Poetry of the Netherworld

(Generally regarded as "Safe." Strong language, adult themes, occasional art nudes)

Rattling Bones Undead Musician Magazine

(Sometimes NSFW. Adult humor, strong language, occasional nudity in a humorous context)

Bitch Please

Bitch Please

 

Anonymous scum

You think your threats of chantage

Will cause me to fade into the brume

For fear that some privileged information will be exposed

 

You think to desecrate my temples

Wherein the discreet throb of my heart

Creates misshapen dreams of desire

 

Your threats to embarrass me

Only skim the surface

Of the endless depths of what I feel

 

The thoughts which I reveal

Are only an emblem

Of the greater truth embedded in my soul

 

One day my heart will open like an envelope

And I will spill all my disgraceful secrets

Until that time, the clock ticks on aloof

 

What reprehensible evidence are you offering up anyway

Which I haven't already revealed myself

If not outright

Then couched in simile and metaphor

 

Do your worst

 

~Cie~

 

Prompt Used:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

 

Forever Your Little Loser

Forever Your Little Loser

They say that I'm a lunatic

They say I'm nothing but a loser

Because I say I want to take a spacecraft

And go spinning past all the planets

Straight up to the Heavens

Where the angels sing in your dreams

My one and only endeavor

Is to be with you forever

I want to spread my heart before you

And pray that you tread lightly

I want to tangle my fingers in your soft, dark hair

I want my love to heal you

Has my longing driven me insane?

If loving you makes me a loser

If wishing I could make things better

Makes me a lunatic

Spinning ever closer to insanity

Then that's just what I am

Forever your little loser

Because I won't get you off my mind

~Cie~

Image Source

Soft Like Snow

Image Credit:

Grace Black

 

With the first snowfall

You drifted into my life

And melted my heart

 

~Cie~

 

Prompt Used:

Three Line Thursday

 

Cross-Posted to:

Fetch

Poetry of the Netherworld

Wicked Lies

Wicked Lies

You blew into my life

Like a storm that destroys everything exposed and not tied down

Your appetite was ravenous

Resulting in the consumption of my self-respect

Time and time again, you proved yourself a liar

As you went on a rampant rampage

Ravishing every man who lurks in low places

Hoping for something sweet to bring redemption to his bitter soul

Then you would crawl up from the caverns like a thief in the night

Making noise about desiring a revival of our bond

The first time I believed

The second time I convinced myself

The third time I saw that what I held in my hand

Was a vestige of

What never was

I finally scattered the ashes of the lie that was our love to the wind

And let you go forever

It was the best thing I ever did for myself

~Adam~

Created for The Reverie

Adam's notes: 

This poem draws on my toxic relationship with my previous boyfriend. I am happy to say that I am now with the man of my dreams, six years strong and married in Hawaii as of this Halloween!

At First Light

First Light

You first came to me

At first light when the snow fell

Stay through the darkness

~Aurora~

Aurora's Notes:

Our team sometimes creates poems on behalf of our characters. These characters come from the work in progress "Fetch," a paranormal romance created by Team Netherworld member Rose LeMort.

This poem is written from the perspective of Pepper Baiij, a forty-seven year old spirit medium (specifically an empath and "spirit anchor"). While attempting to assist the fetch Gerry Clifford, she ends up falling in love with him and he with her.

A "fetch" is the apparition of a person whose body is still alive but is badly compromised, so they effectively function as a spirit.

Gerry first appeared to Pepper on the night that an arctic front moved in. He was badly frightened by a group of entities which operate as a unit and seem to be playing a waiting game, biding their time until Gerry's compromised brain reaches a certain state of deterioration, at which point he believes they intend to absorb the essence of his soul.

Pepper allowed Gerry to "anchor" himself to her so she could try to keep him safe, although she knew that by doing so she was risking a heartbreak of a kind she had sworn she would never allow herself to feel again.

The next day when Pepper woke up, she felt Gerry beside her. It was a day of sub-freezing temperatures and snow. Pepper needed to drive to her son's house and Gerry came with her. He became convinced that he and Pepper were both spirits in some area of hell, but that they could help each other. In working to try and comfort Gerry and help him see that he is not in an actual hell, she finds herself falling quickly and deeply in love with him and hoping that he will stay with her.

Cross-posted to:

Fetch

Poetry of the Netherworld

At Moonrise

Image Source

 

When the moon rises

And darkness falls on the Earth

My heart breaks again

 

~Cie~

I Wish

Image Source

 

I Wish

 

I

 

I wish I could do something to make things better

 

 

Image source

 

II

 

Wish I could keep you safe in my pocket always

 

~Cie~

 

Alexandrine forms created for The Reverie.

A Fading Dream

Image Source

Cie says: Thank you, Dolly. I love it!

Dolly wants to clarify: I'm the finder, not the artist. I can barely draw stick figures!

Prompt: Red Wolf Poems

A Fading Dream

It seems so cruel

That the fates make you a toy

Collecting dust in some forgotten room

Your life is already lost

Your thoughts encased in frost

Your song silenced

I wish that the fairies would open the door to the realms beyond

Allowing you to fly free

Such a soft, fragile soul

Would fade quickly from this unkind place

Would a smile grace your pretty face

As you vanished in a puff of mist

Dolly

and

Cie

One Soul As Two Minds

Born in two bodies

Yet with a union so close

They were of one mind

A love of this kind

Survives death of the body

Or loss of reason

~Koni~

Koni's Notes:

Angus Young (L) was the first person to notice that something was amiss with Malcolm Young (R) when the bright and hyper-organized Malcolm began to become disorganized and forgetful. Angus covered for his brother, at first helping him remember things that needed to be done, and eventually covering for Malcolm during performances when he would miss chords from songs that he'd written himself.

Before Malcolm lost the ability to remember what he had done during his life or even the ability to recognize the people he was closest to including the brother who seemed to be the other half of his own soul, he told Angus to keep making music. Not long afterwards, it became necessary to place him in a long term care facility. 

It is my belief that a bond like this one survives even death, be it of mind or body. Not everyone is fortunate enough to know the reflection of their soul. Such a reflection is not always romantic; as in this case, the reflection is platonic and/or filial. In any case, such a union is to be treasured. It can never be destroyed.

~Koni~

Cross-Posted to:

Dream About Me, Sweet Brother
(Note: Blog overall is NSFW; certain posts contain explicit gay erotica)

Poetery of the Netherworld

Accepting the Finite

To accept his fate

Would deny the injustice

Of a mind stolen

~Seth~

Seth Says:

There mightn't be a damn thing we can do to help him or to stop this horror from afflicting other people. But that doesn't mean we have to be apathetic. Apathy is a toxin that destroys what the world needs most: compassion. Do not be telling people expressing grief that they need to "get over it." If you are doing this, what you need to do is back off.