Archives for category: guest post

is it what you know
or what they see
in street carnivals
on ferris wheels
round carousels
the face-painted gypsy

penetrating chances
pre-caffeinated sidelong glances
otherworldly connections
are they universal confections

pondering & kisses
sunlit skies over near misses
clarity loves authenticity
you are your own true identity

poet’s note: i wrote that poem several months ago after stumbling upon a fellow blogger’s site and reading one of her posts. the universal truths contained in her writing and the way that she presents them have inspired so much imagery in myself and others.

it became a regular necessity to write something after reading one of her pieces. i felt like she was filtering & reflecting back many of my own feelings through the journey of self-discovery i was on.

i am humbled and honored to be able to present, as a guest post today, the words she wrote that inspired the poem you see above.

I am Thinkingtoohard

The moments that truly connect us as humans seem fleeting, rare. But if you look closer, squint into the sun, a surprise could be waiting for you.

A chance meeting while running errands. Or the guy at the coffee shop, who never fails to give you a sidelong glance. Or something contrived, where you hope to run into someone else. Whatever it is, it penetrates your consciousness. (Hey, now.)

This man has the softest lips I’ve ever felt. Velvety, gentle. He wraps his arms around me and I am lifted off my feet. He’ll deny it, but it feels as though he’s drowning and I am the raft. I love a quiet desperation.

He’s beautiful. His intellect rivals my own. And he has the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. I think we are made of the same stuff. Tonight, we are blades of grass, drying up in the sun. We’re waiting to be plucked by the little boy, put into his pocket and taken home. Before someone steps on us again.

Stephen Elliot said the problem isn’t being lovable, but being capable of love. I can’t disagree. I wonder how many decades it takes to let go of the chains. We think we’re trapped, but it’s really us holding too tight. All we have to do is let go, and we can’t – or don’t.

For once, I’m being a realist. I’m not ready for him. For anyone. I’m not yet self-sufficient. I promised myself that my husband would be the last man I ever relied on in this street carnival. And the promises we make to ourselves are the most sacred.

I’m pondering him – and a great, broken wish for self-reliance – walking through the parking lot with my youngest. I lean down and whisper, “I love it when you hold my hand. It makes me feel special.” He flashes a 7-year-old toothless grin and kisses my palm.

I smile at the sky. My heart is full. My identity no longer a secret.




if you enjoyed that piece, which is included in her new book, click here to visit her site. there’s so much more where that came from.

by Rebecca T. Dickson aka @thinking2hard13

[sometimes life - events, conversations - seem random. sometimes they are, but often in life - the why is on "the other side." this post is the "other side" of one such conversation...]

guest post by sarcasmically. she writes here. follow her on twitter here.

“faithless”

I’m standing over and looking down at this dying person. I see the roadmap on their inner arms, a map where the origin was a normal person and the destination is this: death. In between‐‐ thousands of miles of heroin and self‐loathing and soul‐draining helplessness.

Sometimes saving someone’s life feels pointless.

Often, I stop to think about what this person is going to do with the new life they are about to get. They will have a new heartbeat, but will it give them a new frame of mind? Likely not. In all probability, they will return to doing what they have done for years, because it’s what they know and, after all, in the unknown lays fear. It angers me to think that a human can give another human a second shot at life and it will be wasted. Does that sound faithless? It is. I’ve seen enough to know that people rarely change.

I wonder if there is a God watching. I wonder what this God would say. Do you want me to let this one go, God? Are they unhappy here, in this life? Will obstructing Death change that?

No God ever answers. It is in my hands to make a choice for them.

All these thoughts fly through in a split second. Faster than cells can die, faster than anger can take hold of me, faster than it takes for the doubt to overtake me and let me walk out. I save their life. Because sometimes part of giving life is shining on faith.

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