Claire de Lune by Paul Verlaine

Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair,
Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,
That play on lutes and dance and have an air
Of being sad in their fantastic trim.

The while they celebrate in minor strain
Triumphant love, effective enterprise,
They have an air of knowing all is vain,—
And through the quiet moonlight their songs rise,

The melancholy moonlight, sweet and lone,
That makes to dream the birds upon the tree,
And in their polished basins of white stone
The fountains tall to sob with ecstasy.

In my own skin

Every breath
My chest
Feels heavy.
Missing.
Longing.
Wishing.
Loving.
Breaking.
Crying.
Hoping.
Dying.
~I just want to be alive in my own skin~
Broken dreams crash
like the moon falling from the sky.
Earth shattering.
Life altering.
I want to close my eyes.
But this reel…
It plays on and on.
In my mind, in my life.
Not even a ledge to stand on.
It is I, who pays the ultimate price.
© bipolarmuse 2010

Night Sky

My head hurts.

I wish I could cry.
Or Sleep.
Maybe I will lay outside
and stare at the night sky.
Feel the glory of the stars
above.
Feel the insignificance of
my woes.

I wonder if my Dad stared
into the sky…
At the same moment I did.
Could he feel my presence?

~I didn’t hear you leave~

Bipolarmuse ♥ To memorize them…

With every moment, every second, I stare intensely. Every roundness of their cheeks, the slope of their noses, the very lashes on their eyes…. I want to memorize them. I want everything from the touch of their skin to the shape of their toes to be be etched into my mind, burned into my heart, carved into my soul. I want their intense blue eyes forever burned into my being. The sounds of their voices to be loud and vibrant in my head. Their witty personalities… boundless love… forgiving hearts… to be a statement of who I am and how I must become a better person for me, for them. I want the feel of their hair to be memorized by my touch. The feel of their hugs bound to my chest. The feel of their kisses ablaze on my lips. I want the way they say “I love you Mommy” to echo in my head and reverberate in my body.
My Love.
My children.
© bipolarmuse 2010

Numbness, my friend

How much more time must I suffer?
Numbness, my friend, seek me.
One breath, two, many many more…

Eyes closing…mmmmmmm….seeking relief.
Practicing numbness. Can you free me?
Dreams are plenty. Deep. Meaningless.
Punctual.

Minutes… moments. Tick tock. Passing.
Trees of color~ clouds of wonder~
Deeper…darker…comfortable…wonderful
Dreams.

Take me. World of escape.
Night visions. “Visions” or fright alive.
Make believe world. Joy. Fear. Smiles.
Calm. Ecstasy. Darkness…
Peace.

Numbness, my friend, Seek me.
Dream.

Nite Nite

© bipolarmuse 2010

Burn to Shine

Foaming at the mouth.
I can get there… I am just fantastic at not showing the foam.
I internalize everything.
Stress, sadness, angst all violate my body. VIOLATE.
All these thoughts that crowd my mind… these thoughts that I use to punish myself… they are capable of making me crumble.
It’s the epic battle that rages in my mind daily.

~When you have awoken
From all your dreams broken
Come and dance with me~

Ahhhhhh the words of Ben Harper.
Amazing

Burn to Shine (album)

I burn to Shine~