Meeting a goal

So I told myself that by the end of the day I’d have a new blog post written, and to help me accomplish that goal I’m supposed to embrace the positive sense of success and achievement. There’s one little problem with that entire notion.  The number of times I’ve actually felt that ‘feeling of success’ are so few and far between that I’m not even fully sure what that would feel like. So far; my writing is the only thing that I ever really get that feeling from, and even that’s not guaranteed to give me that feeling. I find myself wondering if some of the trouble I have with things in my life is from the lack of the positive feeling associated with accomplishing something. That leaves me with a question, how can I make myself feel that sense of accomplishment that is normally lacking in my life? The only answer I can think of is to fake it till I convince myself that I’m really feeling that warm sense of accomplishment, which could take awhile considering positive thinking is not my strong suit. It seems like the next goal I should set for myself is to manage to think positively for a day, or even part of a day. Baby steps aren’t my favorite way of taking things, but for this one I don’t think I really have a choice…


Oh hey! I finished that blog post. Goal accomplished.


Divergent Thoughts

The Sinner; The Saint

The Sinner;      The Saint

She’s the lady all the men adore;   He walks in the light of the holy king,

A caring mother and a whore;   His presence seems a blessing on all things.

She drinks a fifth every dawn;   He starts and ends his days with prayers.

Wishing for her pain to be gone;   He donates to the poor to show he cares.

In every drunken lamentation;   He works to benefit the weaker man.

She asks God for her salvation;   He tries to help everyone that he can.

She’s at church every day;   He’s a man that seems to have no flaws.

Asking the Lord why her husband’s away;   He seems to be above all the common laws.

She works the street while her daughter’s at school;   He washes his hands in holy water.

She works to survive in a world so cruel;   He tries to forget his illegitimate daughter.

The world calls her a sinner;   The world calls him a saint.

She only wants her daughter to have dinner;   He’s freed himself of all attain.

Running Away

Still trying to run as he hit the ground,

Trying to escape the tormenting sound.

The little whisper echoing in his ear,

Saying all the things he doesn’t want to hear.

When he hears the scream he gets up to run,

As it reminds him of the things he has done.

Even as he falls and his head hits the dirt,

He can still hear the cries of the people he hurt.

He can never escape the monster he built,

He will never escape from the feeling of guilt.

He should have watched the things he said,

Because you can never escape what’s in your head.


Little Treasures

Little Treasures

What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you see the word ‘treasures’? Is it what you’d find in a pirate’s chest, or perhaps precious gems and fancy jewelry, or something of monetary value?

Those aren’t the things that i think of when i think about treasures, what i think about is much more valuable to me than anything money could ever buy. What i think of is what’s in the red envelope that i have on my desk in front of me, which to anyone other than me they’d likely hold no value at all. In it are letters i’ve received from my sister and her husband, my treasures that no money could buy.

The next thing i think of is the program from their wedding.  Even as poor as my memory is at times, when i look at it i can still remember almost the entire wedding. Those memories are another of my little treasures, and the wedding program itself makes for an excellent fan if i get too hot. Mother made them all by hand with a wooden handle and sturdy paper so they could be used as fans, which i think is pure genius on her part.

I’m sure i’m not the only one who holds on to little treasures like that. What is it that you treasure? Is it something that someone special to you gave you, or perhaps something that helps you keep special memories fresh in your mind? Whatever it is that you treasure, be sure to take good care of it. After all, all the money in the world likely wouldn’t be able to get another one for you.

Trust and Fear: A Poem

A long time ago i was somewhere that was dark with a friend of mine who was normally afraid of the dark, but for some reason it didn’t seem to be bothering him. When i asked him why he wasn’t afraid his response was along the lines of “There’s nothing that could be out in the night that’s scarier than you.” I took that as a compliment.


Trust and Fear

Shadows so dark that terrorize your mind and heart,
The fears from which your nightmares start.
Let me wipe away those tears,
Let me burn away those fears.
Just take my hand, let me hold you tight,
I won’t let anything hurt you at night.
Let me be the light that burns the shadows away,
Let me keep them at bay till the light of day.
Let me be the fiend that hunts the demons in your head,
Let me be the shield that keeps you safe in your bed.
Just trust in me then you’ll see,
Those shadows aren’t nearly as scary as me.

Madness Manifest: A poetic thing

For the sake of trying something new and possibly interesting; I decided to write a poem based on one of the two RP characters i use. I decided to go with the newer of the two, and this poem is the end result.

Enjoy the read,

Divergent Thoughts


Madness Manifest

So many whispers in his head,
But he almost never knows what they’ve said.
Countless minds all broken and mixed,
Give rise to the creature that cannot be fixed.
An unnatural existence distorted and strange,
With a twisted mind that will never change.
His emotions are twisted to form a cage,
A fragile restraint for his violence and rage.
Instincts drive him to hunt and kill,
Impulses he fights down through force of will.
Ever on guard from threats unknown,
Never relaxed his paranoia has grown.
Yet bright eyes and a sweet smile is all most people see,
As he hides from them the monster he could be.

Change of Pace: A Poem

As my way of celebrating the first comments, likes, and following by someone that isn’t related to me by blood i decided to try to write something more positive and cheerful. Key word, Try. I’ll leave it for you to decided if i actually managed to make something somewhat cheerful or not.

Enjoy the read.

Divergent Thoughts


Change of Pace

Hope for the best but be ready for the worst,
That’s the way my mind goes about things first.
A faint ray of light amidst the doom and gloom,
But never bright enough to light up the room.
I’ve grown accustomed to the lack of light,
I’ve made myself at home in the dark of night.
Yet sometimes a brighter light does come along,
I hope it’ll last even while i expect to be wrong.
Yet even as pessimistic as my view is i can’t help but grin,
It’s a change of pace that I’d so love to stay in.
Yet as the clock ticks it slowly fades away,
But sometimes, just sometimes, the memory of it stays.

An Older Poem 

On more or less a random impulse I’ve decided to share some of my older  work.  This is from ~2008.

Hope you enjoy the read,

Divergent Thoughts


The Looking Glass

What do you see in the looking glass?
Do you see things that have been, or things yet to pass?
Do you see the rain, or clear blue sky?
Do you see what makes you laugh, or what makes you cry?
Do you see a life begins, or when it ends?
Do you see your enemies, or those you call friends?
Do you see what you love, or that which you hate?
Do you see freedom, or do you see fate?
Do you see the path you walk, or the one you shun?
Do you see hope, or do you see it undone?
Do you pick up your glass and take a drink?
Or do you simply stare at it and think?
What do you think will come to pass,
When you drink from your looking glass?

The Damage of Lies

From what I’ve picked up from various comedians and shows, it seems like the stereotypical male has this problem with lying about things. I don’t know if that stereotype holds any water, but the entire concept of lying doesn’t make sense to me. Is it so hard to just be honest and tell people the truth of things? Sure, the truth of things might not always be pleasant, hell at times it can be downright heart breaking. Yet at the same time if you tell the person a lie that’s more pleasant than the truth, what do you do when they find out the truth from another source? They’ve just found out that you lied to them, and regardless of the reason, lies in general lead to the loss of trust in the person who told the lie. Once you start lying to people about things, how can they ever know for sure when you’ve stopped lying to them? You can apologize for it and say you’ll never do it again, but you can’t escape the things you’ve said and the damage they may have done. How do you rebuild that trust?

Wouldn’t it be easier instead to simply stick with telling the truth, no matter how ugly or painful that truth may be? Sure it might hurt, but at least they’re hearing it from you rather than mixing whatever that painful thing was with the pain of having been lied to? Honesty about everything is my personal policy, even if it’s something that I know won’t go over well or could cause trouble for me. By just telling the truth up front; it lets you deal with whatever negative reaction that it might bring right away, rather than letting those feelings (mixed with however they feel regarding that lie) build and fester into something worse.


While the end result of telling the truth may not always be the great, it’s still much better than the lie.

Things Once Known: A poem of sorts

Music can be a great source of inspiration when it comes to writing, and this little poem is the product of listening to a song on loop.  “Outside” By Hollywood Undead for those who want to know what the song was, and trying to match the over all feel of the song i wrote this.

Hopefully you’ll enjoy the read,

Divergent Thoughts


Things Once Known


Once upon a time I knew many things

Once upon a time I knew how to laugh and sing,

I knew the warmth of having love fully shared,

If only I had acted with more caution and care.

A fool of a child, I didn’t understand how precious it was,

A fool of a man, I forgot the damage a harsh word does.

They say that hindsight is twenty twenty,

But looking back now the errors of my way simply pain me.

Errors that I will never forget,

Memories of things I’ll always regret.

So with scars in my heart I keep my back to the past,

Awaiting the day I heal at last.

To once again remember how to laugh and sing,

To once more know the warmth love can bring.