Raging Bull

My mind can go faster than your car.

I can go from zero-to over one-hundred in the space of minutes,

or the space of hours.

It seems like it would be a blessing,

but its more like a curse.

It is a raging bull-on fire-I get so tangled

and twisted into my own stupid desire.

My mind can go faster than your car.

My stupid thoughts spin freely,

like a washing machine on empty.

The nonsense covers me,


like a young child hiding out into a

pile of beautiful crunchy Autumn leaves.

My mind can go faster than your car,

and that is a wild, bad and dangerous thing.

In fact, I must be constantly medicated

for this so I do not SPIN-OUT OF CONTROL.

It is not a mild, or pretty sight,

this brain is on fire, like a raging bull,

I see RED and only and all of:

my secret desire.

I wish to be



its just not the case, because my mind

can go faster than your car.

Reaching out to the darkness:

Reaching out to the Darkness,

I embrace the void, the emptiness, the huge

hurting Loneliness.

The sense that you must stifle a scream,

so loud and bold

it could shatter the world-

except that no one will hear it-

because you do not, shout it out,

you keep it inside and swaddle it like an infant child.


All the emotions, you keep locked up into their cages,

so they do not escape like a lioness or a hungry grizzly

escape to Eat Up the Whole World Whole.


Wholeness…now that is something you long for.

A truth that you will not speak,

least you hurt anybody’s feelings-

so you just pretend,

that these horrible negative feelings,

these angry emotions

that they will end. Somehow. Some-way,

even though the more you-

do not say-the more the feelings rise up in the cages,

shaking the bars.


Its so uncivilized.

It leaves you speechless,

with this dry throat and tongue-

you are there too-just like me-reaching out

to the Darkness.


Searching for Truth, for sympathy for empathy,

but there is nothing left but vast blackness.

You pray like hell-for just one more chance-

for the lovely Moon and Stars to light your path-

but there is nothing left but the cold embrace

of blackness.

Old forgotten Art- Curiosity’s a game…

Abstract oil pastel drawing 99    Old Abstract Pastel Drawing, from 1999, I created it back then, but why?

I have no idea. Every bit of art I make somehow tells a story, I do not always recall my own. My story of how I made it, why I made it, what it meant to me at the time? I think What interests me much much more is what you as the viewer, think the art says to you? And why does it say that? What story do you see in my artwork? Is it confusing-a rambled jumble of colors and shapes? Or do you see symbolism or narrative in the layers , just beneath? Tell me what the story is? What does this old forgotten drawing done in oil pastel say about me-the artist? Or more importantly what does this artwork say to you as a viewer? Leave me a comment, play along if you wish, what do you think and what do you say the story is?

shivers up my spine

Fall evening,

bringing shivers up my spine.

The cold feels good-

it makes me feel alive, precious and beautiful.

The air is crisp, and I am under an electric blanket-

warm and toasty.

Waiting for the Man-

I call Lover, Husband and Best Friend,

to come home from a work outing.

He went with others from his work

to see the Detroit Tigers play.

Tomorrow he will have his

40th Birthday.

So Tomorrow I will bake him a cake,

while his mother hovers over me.

Then there will be gifts and laughter.

Right now is mere suspense.

I shiver in anticipation, as I wait,

for my Man to come home and wrap me up

into cuddling arms.

I know I will sleep good tonight,

despite shivers up my spine.

Seeking inspiration:

Seeking inspiration, I stumble among

my large book collection.

I pick one up-flip through a few pages- and find this:

I take the pieces of my brokenness and I create something new and meaningful. I offer this wisdom to others. Now I understand that my very brokenness is my connection to the unbroken whole.”

(Straub.Gail.(2001) Circle of Compassion-Meditations for Caring-for self and for the world. page 86. Journey Editions: Boston:MA.)

I ponder Ms. Straub’s meditation. It seems to me that in so many places, I
struggle with my brokenness. I stitch it together these shards of fragile self, like shards of broken glass.

I weave my brokenness into a sweater. I keep myself warm for more stormy weather.

How can I use my scars to heal myself?

How can I use my scars to heal others?

Is empathy always a two-bladed sword-if I feel for you, for your pain, am I also stabbing myself,

at least a small bit in my big and wounded heart?

And yet, I cannot stop it.

This endless sea of empathy.

I want to help everybody I meet.

I want to be useful, and unique.

I want to be the one who bandages others, comforts them, encourages them.

Yet, I wondered how can I reach outwards with my heart,

giving of myself-while I still bleed of emotions from time to time?

Is it right? Is it practical? Can I sacrifice my sorrows-just to give to,

someone else, a blessed and happy tomorrow?


Getting into the groove

Cautiously trying to find

a way into the groove-

to slip into the perfect spot/

where I am able to create/

a new reality/for myself/and my family.


Getting into the groove,

Applying for more jobs/seeking employment/

refusing to throw the towel in./I’ve got some energy/

it makes my mind spin.


Part of what makes me ME,

is an illness which defines me/my bipolar disorder/

yet it does have an upside/at times I can become/

highly focused/motivated/able to get things done.

There is usually a price to pay/a relapse/

or a struggle/to maintain my moods/


I am trying my hardest to just/

get into the groove.

To find some stability/to cover myself/

up in artwork & poetry.


I want to be/

productive/ successful/happy

I want to contribute to society/

to become part of mental health advocacy.

I want to be more than a nameless face/

in a sea of anonymity.

It’s hard to set reasonable goals/when your Ego flexes/

from zero-to-one hundred/ on any given day.


All I can say,

is I want to get in to

my groove Today.



Paranormal Funk

Haunting Ghost stories,

colorful TV-lots of the strange

and paranormal to see.

Tons of programs to watch

focusing on spooky stuff,

as Halloween slowly approaches.

Samhain is sneaking in…

I enjoy watching all the paranormal

stories of old haunted places.

I doubt I am the only one-

in this paranormal funk,

Is anyone else excited that the Fall Season

has begun?

To change it around, shake contents upside down.

To change it around,

please shake contents upside down.

And it comes to me,

that only I have the power to decide-

to make up my mind,

will today be a good day?


How can I make it so?

Can I let the bad thoughts go,

away in a puff of smoke?

Can I grab so tightly of that elusive

thing called Hope, before i begin to

choke all of her best intentions?

Can I choose, just for Today,

to focus on all the little things,

which make me smile and wonder in awe,

at the depth and the beauty even found

in a cloudy day?


Can you try along with me,

come along for the ride,

try to grab hold on the positive side…


Only you can change your own mind.

What will you decide, to focus on the

negativity or will you try to reach deeper-

way deep inside, to find that bliss,

which ignites your mind?


An afternoon Haze

Mid afternoon, half past lunch.

I sit sweetly here,

pondering Us.


How we came to past?

This gift of a marriage, based on mutual trust.

All the blessings,

I somehow, in some small way,

take for granted almost everyday.


Your smile-which I Love.

The way your hand fits snugly into my own-

a perfect fit, just right.


Enough food to Eat.

A big beautiful house and

all of our lovely fur-kids.


All These things I take for granted,

would be impossible, if it were not

for the luck of meeting and loving You.


You are my favorite companion,

I get lost in memories of all the many

happy times. We have had our ups and downs,

But I always make my way, back home to You.