Hit me from behind

The events of the past stretch out ahead,
laid bare but just for me,
from my perch in this landscape of time,
the present becomes history

My life is marked by the trail that I blazed,
winding through the events of my past,
the ups and downs, the bumps and bruises,
from the first right up to the last

But they all got me here
And I just have to steer,
but what I can't see,
is what's behind me,
as I wait for it to appear

A New Word - Quizerdrix

Quizerdrix, n. - The moment between realization and the "fight or flight" reflex following the observation of something ridiculous in which one feels absolutely nothing at all.

In Context:

The octopus fell from the ceiling fan into the puddle of wet paint on the floor as Alan surveyed the scene. He experienced a fleeting moment of quizerdrix for what felt like an eternity before he resolved to crush his rising panic like winter ice over drained puddles on the sidewalk and plunge headlong into the pool. "Fuck the barracuda" he thought, "there's no stopping now..."

The Orange by Wendy Cope

This is the first time I have posted something by someone else, just want to make it clear that I didn't write this one, enjoy!

The Orange

By Wendy Cope

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park
This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all my jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I'm glad I exist.

The Time Between

The trees and their branches await the sun, 

They conceal their impatience well, 

But one day in April their leaves appear, 

Revealing their chlorophyll. 

 Amazed we are, astounded, impressed, 

When green leaves suddenly abound, 

And before too long, they're taken for granted, 

Until they change color and fall to the ground. 

 The summer consists of the time between, 

A time of ignorance and bliss, 

When we fail to remember, 

Until September, 

It's the season we will most sorely miss.

Words on a Page

I still have all your letters, 

stashed upon my shelf, 

I've kept them there, 

all these years, 

as a comfort to myself, 

but on the occasion that they're opened, 

and all read through complete, 

I realize in my heart of hearts, 

my happiness they deplete, 

But even so, 

I keep them there, 

to remind me of life's season, 

when I was loved, 

and loved someone, 

and for no other reason, 

than love was what there was, 

what we had, 

what we knew was true, 

until I found, 

until you admitted, 

that it was only me who loved you.

Sunrise

The early morning sunrise, 

takes you by surprise, 

but then it's mesmerizing, lovely, 

and any stress you had from the day or week before, 

goes right on out the window and right on in the door, 

comes the next day, 

fresh and clean, 

bright and new, 

ready to be explored. 

It's like the reset button, 

people just fail to see. 

It's neglected, passed by, ignored, 

but for the few that know it's there, 

and push it, 

it has the capacity to be... 

beautiful.

Winter's Mask

The sun's overt deception, 

Occurs in tandem with its subtle truthfulness, 

Winter has not departed, 

Rather it wears the mask of spring, 

While simultaneously preparing, 

For a coordinated attack, 

Mustering its clouds, 

The ominous grey soldiers of the sky, 

Poised and waiting, 

Just beyond the horizon, 

Waiting for its deceit to take its full effect, 

Before plunging the world back, 

Into the cold, white world of winter.

Untitled

"Speak your mind" is what they say,

Patronizing, condescending, well intentioned posers,

You can tell them what you think any day,

But then you say what you feel

They ignore or blow off, they didn't want to hear,

your soul or yourself, rather you ought,

to know their opinions, that's what they prefer,

regurgitations of their thoughts

I say "Speak your soul"

Honesty's the way to go,

With yourself and with me,

How you feel is what you should be.

Thursday

Time is done and it's on to me, 

So how can I reflect? 

Good friends and brothers are the shiny things of life, 

I talk, or sit and think, and slowly I dissect, 

Myself, my actions, my essence and my soul, 

Sometime silence is just as good as speech, 

Forwards and backwards and inwards I go, 

Aiming eventually to breach, 

Meaning. 

But before I arrive, Monday does, 

Dispersal, separation, but only for a time, 

The grind restarts, the trance, the mask, 

The inevitable paradigm, 

I do my best, the weekend will come, 

But Thursday's as far as I can last. 

Again.