Angel Wings

Little blue angel wings beating on the window pain.

It’s cold outside.

Let in.

Keep out.

Remain freezing.

Negative wind chill freezing.

Blue angel wings turn black and crumble.

Falling to the earth as ash,

absorbed in the terra for future life,

blue angel wings are no more.

-Cynic Ninja

Not a Whisper

You held me back. 

You kept me from putting 

        fragile china pieces 

              away on the shelves. 

I've worked years to find my voice 

                                                                  and 

in the span of ten months 

                                                                  with you, 

I lost it. 

-Cynic Ninja

A Broken China Life

Life is like a full china cabinet. It’s like one of those old fashioned fancy corner cupboards that fit snugly out of the way. Inside is all the pretty china, the pieces of your life. Some of the pieces are important. The platter, the mugs, the large plates. Other pieces don’t get used or touched that often. The gravy bowl; the small soup and saucer set; the demitasse cup. All the pieces are important or the set wouldn’t be complete.

In life, we hit bumps and will get shaken around. When this happens, a couple pieces of china fall from the cabinet and crash to the floor. Maybe the handle breaks off a teacup, or the rim of a plate chips.

I’ve had a couple storms that knocked pieces of the precious china out of my corner cupboard. One big storm, when I was eight, sent about half of the set splintering to the floor. Before anyone could see what I had let happen, I quickly swept the mess under the piece of furniture.

Years passed and for the most part, I forgot about that mess. I mean, sure, occasionally I would notice my china set was missing a medium salad plate or a teacup, but that was rare. Mostly, I was content living my life using half of my china. It appeared to me that everyone was content letting me, as well.

I grow up. Things happen. I grow some more and more things happen. Some bad, most irreverent, a little good, more bad. Over the past four years or so, I’ve managed to dig out, dust, and put away the least damaged pieces. I do not want to deal with the broken wreck under that china cupboard. I do not want to look at each of those pieces and try to fit them back together into some semblance of a life.

I’d like to think that mess is doing just fine under there. Staying hidden, out of the way, never thought about. However, I know that’s not true. I think about that wreck daily. Specific words, specific actions, specific sounds, and my mind is right back there to that not so well concealed mess I call my past. Just to be clear, I have no desire to deal with it. Never liked cleaning in the first place. Some things just have to happen and this is looking like it’ll be one of those things.  

Flying High

I was so high
till you knocked me down.
I fell quick.
Hit hard.
Green grass is soft underfoot
but it hides pain well.



-Cynic Ninja

Vociferous Silence

Alone in a rarely empty house.

A substantial house.

The walls are talking,

a constant clamor pulsing in and out.

It pushes at my ears,

demanding my attention.

Yelling, arguing, fighting words

slam and swirl around me.

“You’re not…”

“Too…”

“You can’t…”

My mind exuberantly adds more to the chaos.

“Stupid…”

“Pathetic…”

“Idiotic…”

Do all walls talk?

Is it truly quiet anywhere?

I’ve gone from one place to the next

trying to escape this chaos,

without success.

What do you do, though,

when the clamoring racket is inside of you? 

-Cynic Ninja

Cloudy Confusion

What did I say wrong?

How did I mess up?

All this trying and

I’m still not good enough.

I’m sorry.

I’ll try harder,

run more.

Dress better,

eat less.

I’m sorry.

I won’t be so emotional.

I’ll hold the salty wet back.

I can punish myself for the mistakes;

better than anyone else can.

Don’t worry.

I’ll handle this.

I know how to injure.

Years of practice and whatnot.

I’m sorry.

But, what did I do?

-Cynic Ninja

Crimson Life

Wrapped, clean and shiny, in their brown covers,

still untarnished by crimson soul.

Thrust in the back of the drawer like secret lovers,

they whispered to me, “I will console.”

Back and forth I argued.

Should I now or can I later?

How long before I become unglued?

Or will this be the final wager?

They were what you thought,

Silvery bright, stinging uncertainties.

Holding so much potential,

Wrought with latent possibilities.

Metal pushing hard against skin cells,

Waiting for them to surrender.

Smile on your face as pain swells.

You, my Dear, the ultimate pretender.

Watching in fascination

as insignificant red dots form.

Pulled from the depths of desperation

to see pin pricks transform.

Connect slowly.

Creating a line of relief.

Spelling boldly,

what had been esoteric grief.

-Cynic Ninja

Liquid Breakpoint

Saltwater

drops from her

eyes like liquid from

the sky.  She looks down,

ashamed of her weakness.

She stumbles, is falling into darkness,

a chasm infinitely wide, uncrossable.

She is lost in oblivion.  Blessed oblivion.

Nonexistence.  Is anyone else breaking

apart like her?

-Cynic Ninja

Liquid Red

Nicks and picks on the knees,
telling more than you thought.
Red stripes crisscrossing thighs
spelling angry, red relief.

Red crimson tears falling onto the dirt.
Soaking into the earth
to be used for life.

A new life.
A life that's wanted.



-Cynic Ninja

Spoken

Little Girl, why are you crying?

Why are there tears filling your throat?

Why, Baby Child, are you sad?

Momma, Momma, Little Girl is hurt!

Momma, Momma, Little Girl is crying!

Help her, Momma. Hug her Momma.

Hug her tight, Momma.

Keep the bad guys away, Momma.

Daddy, Daddy, hold her!

Daddy, Daddy, carry her off to safety.

Tell her, Daddy!

Tell her it wasn't her fault.

Keep the bad guys away, Daddy.

-Cynic Ninja

Little and Big Collide

Little girl is crying inside.

Baby girl tears from long ago,

trapped in there for years.

He put his arm around

and big girl said it’s fine.

But little girl, she still cries.

Tears of pain.

Tears of memories.

Tears of dreams lost and

cautious hope restored.

-Cynic Ninja

Life Questions

How many people do extraordinary things
even though nobody ever finds out?


Cynic Ninja

Coffee Shop Complaints

Sitting in the middle of Anywhere Coffee Shop

overhearing loud conversations behind me.

Mom with Baby vents to Friend about Husband.

“He doesn’t do anything I ask him to.

He says he will but it doesn’t get done!

I simply want the dishes washed and the toys

picked up. It’d take 20 minutes! But he just

wants to sit in his chair playing on his phone.”

I can’t help recalling a similar dialogue overheard before.

Is this the way it is for every Mom and Husband?

Wouldn’t it make more sense to talk directly to the

one that’s causing the tension? Talk and talk and talk until

there’s no words left to say but only forgiveness and love

to hand out.

Approach the frustration with open hands; eyes. Ask “what can I learn”?

About myself?

About God?

About life?

About Husband?

Embrace the learning in the frustration and give thanks.  

-Cynic Ninja

Lost Shapes

How many people do desperate things
when they discover the shape of
half-remembered dreams?


-Cynic Ninja

Teardrops

If I showed you my teardrops

would you collect them like rain?

Store them in jars

and label them Pain?

Would you follow their tracks

from my eyes down my cheeks,

as they write all the stories

I’m too scared to speak?

Would you stop them with Love,

bring their flow to a halt?

Then tell me that pain

isn’t always my fault?

If I showed you my teardrops

would you show me your own,

and learn though we’re lonely,

we’re never alone?

-Cynic Ninja

Currently Historical

Brown pipe

curling smoke

tweed jacket

and patches on the elbows

The epitome of a dusty novel's scholarly gentleman

walking down my 20th century town

-Cynic Ninja

Silver Shame

Often, blade has been pressed against my skin.

Often, I willed it to move.

Maybe an earthquake would hit

and the blade would slice.

Possibly it would drop and cut deep.

Just as often,

I've pulled the blade away.

Still shiny and silver.

Sparkling for all the world

to see my failure and shame.

My lack of strength

in a moment of pain.

Would a swift strike of a blade

dull the inner pain?

Would it numb the hurt

while at the same time

shock my lifeless nerves

with energy?

-Cynic Ninja

Strength

Is it strength to cry?

Or strength to hold tears back?

Someone who can cry,

has a strong core.

A strong center.

They have a confident and honest view of themselves.

One who can cry if front of others is even stronger.

There’s a different strength to not crying.

There’s an outside strength.

A tough skin strength.

A kind of strength that is afraid to let anything seep in so it repels.

It takes strength to cry.

It takes strength not to cry.

What kind of strength do you have

and why?

-Cynic Ninja

Untitled

I read a line of text.

“getting over abuse,”

it says,

mocking.

I clench my teeth.

Anger rising.

What idiot thinks abuse is a

“getting over” kinda thing?

Some fool who has no clue.

It's people like you

who make this harder.

Showing off your perfect life 

while expecting me to catch up.

How can I compete with you

when I started out in mud

and you were on a tropical island?

-Cynic Ninja

Dangerous Cellars

True burning anger comes rarely to me.

I'm more in the habit of not feeling.

But when it does,

I have the urge to do something with it.

Like I should take care of it once and for all.

But this last time,

               I was too busy,

                                             too tired,

                                                            too embarrassed.

                                                                                          too,

                                                                                                         too,

                                                                                                                        too.

I didn’t want to deal with it.

I didn’t think I could deal with it.

Now it’s seeped away,

the anger has.

Flowed back into the cellar

where all bad

and dark

and ugly

things are hidden.

A part of me wants to dig it out and deal with it.

The other part is quite content to let the anger stay hidden.

-Cynic Ninja

Barbed Wire Heart

When I was young,

I wrapped my heart in barbed wire

and nailed the door shut

before walking away.

Years passed.

The nails became rusty.

Some fell out on their own.

Others were melted by love.

Now, I think I might be ready.

To risk exposing my heart.

To open the door.

But when I pulled back the heavy barrier,

I found that,

as I’d grown older,

my heart had accepted the wire protection as natural

and grew around the points and barbs.

In an instant,

I recognized the truth.

I know longer knew how to let people close

without hurting them.

Because, while my mind said “it’s okay,”

my heart was still beating

to the thrum of fear.

-Cynic Ninja

Untitled

Love.
It's not the falling that kills you,
but the sudden stop at the end.

-Michael Xavier

Hidden Secrets

We were together for two hours.

I talked for twenty seven of those minutes.

Ninety three minutes of silence, you listened.

The whole time,

I was hoping you’d be able to look in my eyes

and read what I could never say aloud.

The whole time,

I was hoping the pain in my heart

would be visible only to  you.

Did you read the lines of pain?

Were you able to decipher the fine print

and discover my haunting secrets?

We were together for two hours.

You listened to my silence

and heard my unspoken pain.

-Cynic Ninja

Sleep?

It's 2:01 and I'm as awake as if it were noon.
An hour later,
sleep is overrated, right?


-CN

Crazy Life

Tired crazy.

Exhaust crazy.

Homework,

back pain,

headache,

long lists,

too much to do crazy.

Sleep.

Refreshed crazy.

Energy crazy.

Repeat like crazy.

-Cynic Ninja

Second Thoughts?

I know you say you don’t think less

and really, I want to believe you.

But there’s all these voices banging around inside my head

telling me that can’t be true.

How could you see with new eyes

what I was and not turn away?

How could you say love

once you saw the brokenness

you were loving?

You made a mistake.

It’s okay, I forgive you.

You couldn't have known the

mess you were stepping into.

-CN

Constant Corrections

Anger bubbling, hot and thick
like caramel sauce on a stove top.

Teeth clenched tight.
Legs radiating waves of tension.

Did you hear a question in any of my words?
Did you think I asked for your help?

Stay out of my business, Sir.
I wasn't talking to you.

Damn fool, always trying to fix me.
Focus on someone else.

Go look in the mirror.
There's plenty of fixing that can happen there.

Our Yesteryears

The time has come to say goodbye.

Au revoir black tropical.

Adiós college memories.

Mooi loop Alberta and west adventure dreams.

M’a ssalama to fancied up memories from the past.

You all had a place.

You all had a reason.

You all are no more.

Stay in history,

visit occasionally,

but know,

your time is past.

Don’t haunt me.

Adieu…



-Cynic Ninja

Daring

Little yellow flags blow and flap

in a straight line

along the road.

For a split second,

I think it’s a family of nine ducks

out for a dangerous midnight walk. 

-Cynic Ninja

Untitled

Don't talk to me again unless your words are more than

just sound waves leaving your mouth.

-Cynic Ninja