Extremely Me

Extremely Me

I’m too extreme

For this reality

The lot of you

Can’t handle the one of me

So I’m sending all my love

My devastated hopes

My broken dreams

Into my next life

The letter will say:

“Dear New Me,

Be true to you

Don’t let them take you down

Like you did last lifetime

Me”

~Cie~

Prompts Used:

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Magpie Tales

Red Wolf Poems

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

Might As Well Be On the Moon

Once long ago and in a world far away

A delusional young woman with a head full of impossible dreams 

Accompanied her father on a plane trip to New York

To visit aging but still vital relatives

She believed that one day

She would often take to the sky

Flying high forever on those dreams

My relatives and my father are now all as dead as those foolish dreams

And hope for a better tomorrow

Might as well be on the moon

There are no second chances for mad fools

Who squandered their youth

That world is gone

And for me it is far too late

To make impossible dreams come true

Me

The Real Cie

Keeping it Real

Even when the truth hurts

Seventy-Seven

 

Consciousness Shifted

You were gone from the world

A candle flame snuft

May 31 would have been my father's seventy-seventh birthday.

He passed from the world on November 28 2010 after a long period of declining health.

 

  

 

A must-have tool for Haiku. My father, a professor of literature and social sciences, would have approved.

Hold On To the Dream

 

Hold Onto the Dream

by

Illsa

 

No quarter is given

No means too extreme

When you're trying your damndest

Not to wake from a dream

 

You cling to the branches

Of the storm-shaken tree

Lest you lose your grip

And fall to reality

 

The painful realization

When one wakes from sweet scenes

Cause the Quixotic with great zeal

To hold onto their dreams

 

Falling from great heights

Can cause dire hurt

You plunge from the Heavens

And end up in the dirt

 

The most beautiful of fantasies

Is the sorriest of vanities

 

~Illsa~