Thursday, April 17, 2008

When Things Go Wrong

Patiently awaiting gentle release, I miss the peaceful valley. Desperately I want to return to clarity and virtue and as the days pass the weight grows more burdensome. Words on paper have become my comfort, my escape, and yet my heart is again heavy as soon as I turn away. I want to bleed if only to numb the sting momentarily. Somehow balance has abandoned me to the belief that hope is forever lost or at least beyond reach. My language is incoherent repetitious riddles that plague every thought and conversation and so the world around me grows weary. The support around me falters and I find myself unfathomable, a quagmire of unquenchable thirst. Where are my wings when I need them?

Forever is the present moment and I cannot break free from these insanities. Communication between heart, mind, and spirit are no longer congruent and I am frustrated with previous choices. Inadequacies add to the complexities of finding enlightenment. The greatest antagonist seems to be myself and the battles remain endless and overwhelming. Overcoming the trepidation of the possible future seems impossible with current circumstances. I remain tolerant and stationary and I want more but the aspirations grow futile as if they were only pleasant fictions. My hands can only reach so far and remain intangible. The enigmatic realm I find myself in is suffocating and barren and all I ask for is freedom so that I may settle down in that peaceful valley once again.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Turbulence Set In Motion

Why are things set in motion when you least expect them? A chain reaction that may be more catastrophic than imaginable has somehow reached a near combustible state and your fear dangles by the faintest thread possible. You keep retracing your thoughts and to no avail do you reach a small sampling of peace. Maybe the time has come for a change and to take the greatest leap of faith you have ever thought possible. Maybe you have outgrown the years that have shaped every memory, every moment, and now it’s time to leap into the void that may be waiting. Not a vacant void but one that illuminates and stimulates the dormant senses. It’s time to hang the hat on the rack as you exit into a breath of fresh air.

As you close the door to open another you may find yourself caught in the middle glancing back through a crack that no longer means much. With all of the persuasion to stay behind you find yourself pulling away even harder until everything snaps. With a small glimpse of what may be before you, you stretch forth with all that you can muster hoping for those arms to embrace you and pull you through. You are at your most vulnerable and weakest point possible and still you tread forward against the trying turbulence and you have no plausible idea how. You just keep hoping to one day wake up from this treachery and realize it was all some sort of horrific dream.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Turn Off the Television and Read a Book

It’s funny how your passions can change over the years. Sometimes even revisiting old passions from the past can stir hibernated emotions. Being surrounded by all of the technology and media of today I had almost forgotten what those passions were. I found myself succumbing to cable television, video games, movie theaters, and the internet. All of which obscured and dulled the imagination I once had as a child. I had become a slave to visual stimulation and realized what had once made me dream had now almost vanished completely. I’m not saying that I do not appreciate the value of these visual forms of media and imagination but more or less have been moved by my childhood love of reading.

Books moved me. The escape I found buried in their pages was extraordinary and until recently have I found a rekindled passion for diving into their pages once more. One day, I just stopped reading and found many more interests that took more time, energy and ambition than what I could devote to a good story. Something was about to change inside of me very soon.

What confuses me most is that even though I wasn’t a big fan of English classes in high school, especially writing, was that I acquired the desire to start writing poetry one day, long ago, for reasons that will be left to tell at a later time. The point is that this new found passion and talent became an obsession to me and I couldn’t put down a pen. Through the years I have had a deep desire to write a novel but haven’t quite mastered my writing ability. Then one day I happened across an article that said something to the point that a good writer needs to always be reading. It really didn’t register at that moment what was said and so I still kept writing poetry without ever really picking up anyone else’s writing and reading it.

Oddly enough, over the years, two of my roommates were History majors and somehow got me interested in World War II history. The next thing I knew I found myself browsing the shelves of the bookstore for World War II stories. Within a few weeks I had purchased near two dozen books and stories related to World War II. I read one or two history books that were devoted to the politics and tactics behind the war but the books that really sucked me in were the recounted stories told by actual soldiers that fought on the battlefield. These stories of real life heroes inspired me but after time the emotion from their trials of war made me hunger for fiction once again.

I grew up reading science fiction and fantasy books and had a hard time putting them down once I started reading the first page. I often caught myself reading books in every class and not listening to what was being taught but strangely enough I was able to ace most assignments and get near straight A’s in school. Maybe it’s because I am a little older and have different tastes but I didn’t crave the science fiction or fantasy genre as much but did want to read stories that were more true to life. And so my passion for reading was once again in full bloom and now I can’t put down a book once I start. I have been faithfully reading since the beginning of the year and keep adding books to the list of what I would like to read.

I hope that with reading as much as I do now and that I try and write frequently I will fulfill that dream of one day writing that story that is hibernating somewhere deep within my heart. Storytelling has been around since the beginning of man so I encourage everyone to turn the television off, throw the videogame controller down and pick up a good novel and see the difference it makes in your life. If you’re addicted to the History Channel like I am maybe then I’ll forgive you.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Ghost of Your Hands

I can feel the ghost of your hands haunting my skin and it makes me tremble, more than ever, with desire for the warmth of your sweet, soft embrace. Faint whispers of gentle passion scream loudly in this vacant silence, my fingers caressing blindness, tracing outlines that aren’t there. My beating, pleading heart aches with every unshared breath, each untouched kiss and I cry out for you. Your delicate presence completes me and saves me from destruction. Why can’t you be here this very moment to help save me from this darkness? I’m drowning in a sea of sorrow in this lonely abandon and I regret the consequence. Escape is my prison and because of this I am not proud. I wish upon stars that have fallen behind the horizon that I may overcome such a fictional ecstasy. Choice is my dilemma, I am my own weakness, but you are the light that can guide me towards the harbor despite the savage storm. But I am alone now in this enigma that overburdens me because of the distance placed between us. The sandy shore seems unobtainable from where I’m sailing but a mustard seed of faith have I, that the wind will carry me into your arms eventually. Time has a way of teaching patience to those who truly love and you, my love, are definitely worth waiting for. But how much longer will you wait for me?

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Missing You

It’s one of those mornings where missing you really hurts more than other mornings. I want you in my arms. Am I asking for too much? You make the weight of the world go away when we embrace each other. I’m missing you more than ever and the vacancy feels like a dagger in my heart. Please make haste, these days of the future that we anticipate. I can’t keep breathing much longer when you’re not here. I’d be grateful for just one moment more with you near.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Damn These Dusty Photographs

We all make mistakes sometimes. Strength comes from knowing that we are willing to accept a consequence that will result from a choice. Sometimes we don’t always realize the seriousness of the consequence until we are faced with another choice. But that’s the beauty of forgiveness. It’s just the process of getting to forgiveness that seems impossible and overwhelming. Forsaking the past is not easy when an addiction has burned a permanent image upon every thought and the chemicals find themselves into every vein. Repentance seems so unbearable at times that you shrink away from the only lifeline when it is placed before you. You find much sadness in your thoughts and words that you just give in only to be at the bottom so that you might discover yourself once again.

You keep digging through the rubble to reach the light but you grow weary as time passes. All around you is unstable, ready to crumble, and your fear keeps you stationary. You’re just looking for a hand to reach down, grab, and embrace you but you feel abandoned. You throw words to the sky only to find them rebounded cause you can’t seem to let them go. No one said life would be easy but no one said it would be this hard.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Regrets and Recompense in Providence

A few brief moments in selective reflection and I find myself restless once again. All of the adventures, travels, and acquaintances have shaped the fabric of time until reaching this very point. What do I have to show for all of it? A lot of unorganized photographs, the memories, and a few tears are all that come to mind. Where do I go from here and what do I do with the precious time that is left?

Currently, melancholy and ecstasy are violently interwoven into my lifeblood which makes everything around me numb. I’m itching for enlightenment on which puddle to jump into next. Why does it seem so distant and perplexing? I know what I want but the traffic light hasn’t changed and I’m developing an unhealthy impatience. I’ve admitted that I’m committed but I find myself still slipping at times and it has become quite disheartening. Different directions have I taken but still I haven’t arrived at the desired destination. Will I ever get to where I’m going?

The gauntlet placed before me has been more difficult than anticipated and I seem to be stuck on the wheel. I have come to recognize the truths and where consequences fit into the larger equation. How hard can it be to flick on the ignition, shift into gear, and move forward? Am I really going to let the addictions and weaknesses prohibit me from liberty and true eternal happiness? If we have all been given free will why is it that I feel bound? I do know that the samurai warrior sleeps deep within my heart and is awaiting vengeance and escape from an adversary’s torment.

Today, the horizon doesn’t seem so very distant anymore and I am grateful for love and forgiveness. Today I am one with myself and the thoughts are not obscured. Underneath it all there is a hint of hope despite the lacking faith. Surety is rare but I believe in providence.

Sunday, May 27, 2007

Give Me End

Give me end to an endless quest
Take this dagger from my chest
Let the blood spill forth
And lay me down to rest.

I have suffered from pain
Stood naked in the rain
Now the tears are gone
And silence is my shame.

© Cordell J. Larkin
May 26, 2007

Monday, May 21, 2007

Still Hanging On

I woke up this morning to another storm warning and now I’m left without choice
I’ve gone miles without breathing, days without weeping, and still I hear her voice
I’m on my knees praying although the carpet is fading but I can’t seem to find grace
I’m on the verge of breaking and my heart is still aching to catch a glimpse of her face
I’ve climbed the highest mountain, still tossing pennies into a fountain, with only one wish
But the rain, it keeps falling, the desert, it keeps calling, and slowly I’m losing grip
The one thing that matters most is the one thing that I’ve lost but I’m still hanging on
She’s all I have that keeps me straight but I might be late but hopefully it won’t be long.

Dust Upon Pages

Silent spoken words without meaning
And in the morning sunlight gleaming
You are still my angel but without wings
And still the inspiration that makes me sing
But I am gathering dust upon pages.

Delicately, I’m yours but not for very long
My untamed world is clouded by a war of fog
And behind this plastic face is a troubled man
A man whose future is spontaneous, never planned
The ground beneath my feet is always unstable.

The river deepens as I drown in trance
The razor’s edge is my only chance
But there, on the shore, you are standing
And I leave you without any understanding
And now I am swept away by the rapids.