Are You Ready?

chaotic

The ink in my pen is dammed for sure,
when inspiration no longer flows
and invading thoughts are not at all clear,
what light once beheld in darkness now folds.

Despair abounds amidst nightmares of pain.
The droughts of passions wreak only bitterness.
And the thoughts I had for a better world,
are never to be known in the face of such wickedness.

Fear what will come when the sun turns shy.
And the roses of the earth will blush no more.
Purity and faith have no place here,
as man never knew just what he killed for.

No help for a child who is born without chance
to survive in a world that’s been damned to hell.
The sins of man hath destroyed his home,
and the only sound is a tolling death knell.

Though we will regret what was torn asunder,
twill be too late to relieve our plight.
For the day of reckoning will soon be upon us,
and no path out of darkness will lead into light.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland

Are you ready for mass starvation? Are you ready for riots in the streets? Are you ready to join the homeless? Are you ready for what’s coming?

I have never been one to harbinger bad news on a global scale or pounce on any made-up omens of events yet to unfold, but I sense an approaching storm, an impending doom and although I was not one who went out and purchased duct tape when the Homeland Terrorize the U.S. Security Agency told us that those awful gummint sponsored terrorists were coming and to keep our battery operated portable radios on to receive the latest terror alert threat, that did not worry me. However, things just ain’t looking good, not at all. I have come to a point where I have just run clean out of hope and though I wrote on another post about the fact that my pen has run dry, it actually has. https://shelbycourtland.wordpress.com/2014/01/31/i-heave-a-sigh/

When a person who writes from the heart, feels a drying up of energy, there is something to that. I can honestly say that for the first time in my life, I feel that there is absolutely nothing more that I can say that I haven’t already said. I took a look back through my own archives and I’ve covered it all. I’ve written extensively on homelessness, on poverty, on injustice everywhere, on the plight of the indigenous peoples, on the plight of those who are locked-up in for profit prisons, I have penned poem after poem about the need for action as opposed to apathy and complacency. I have moaned and groaned and displayed anger and hopelessness and helplessness and frustration and I have come to the realization that I am drained and dust is thickly settling on my poet’s pen.

Another blogger who is a poet felt the same way and he pretty much let us know that he’s also drained. And I know exactly how he feels. He is another one who feels and feels deeply and he has put down, for the moment, his poet’s pen.

I take heed of this as there is not many who can feel and channel the energy or who can feel when that energy is gone; that which gives us hope and keeps us going. When it no longer flows like the river, we heave a sigh and we droop. I am drooping. I feel a drain, a tug downward, a diminishing of energy. Is it temporary, I don’t think so and I cannot force that which will not come. I don’t write just for the sake of writing. I write because I have something to say. If there is nothing coming from my center of energy, it is because something so profoundly depressing has taken root and has repressed the flow of positive energy and any need I had of holding on to hope and has therefore, drained my pen.

Call me a pessimist, but I call myself, a realist with eyes wide open!

14 thoughts on “Are You Ready?

  1. I can relate to much of what you’ve expressed, Shelby. There are certainly times when I wonder if my words are reaching anyone but those who already like-minded. Writing is not merely what you do, it’s who you are. Just as you can’t help putting yourself between the oppressors and the oppressed in your life. When the spirit moves you, the words will flow again.

    Like

    • Jeff, like you I believe that I am preaching to the choir. I’ve said it many times before. I don’t know if the spirit will hit me again as I feel depleted, woefully depleted. Not like my usual, “sigh I give up.” That just doesn’t seem to be the case this time. I thought that I could write about frivolity and sex, but that just isn’t who I am. I care too deeply but there is just no end to the depths of despair that many have sunk and many have yet to sink, but they will. It is a foregone conclusion. We are self-destructing and we will never see the light before it is too late. And I sincerely believe that it is already too late.

      “Atrocity here, atrocity there.
      No sign of peace is everywhere.
      We write and we sing
      and to hope we cling.
      But this world is dying
      and I ain’t lying.”

      Like

      • Not that you need my validation but I do respect whatever decision you make, Just wanted you to know that I would rather be in the depths with people like you who care then on the heights with the pyscho/sociopaths running this planet or worse, those who chosen apathy as a course of action.

        Like

  2. Thank you for that Jeff! And you have said a mouthful. One of the biggest problems we have is apathy and neck in neck with that is complacency. Look around at all of the indignities and atrocities that have been heaped on Americans of all stripes and yet, not a collective peep from US. We take it and we take it and we do what amounts to nothing. We take the gutting of social programs. We take the made-up debt ceiling crises and the other shenanigans of our (s)elected officials when they say that there is no money for affordable housing, that there is no money to educate our children, that there is no money for drug treatment and mental health care, that there is no money for anything and yet, they conveniently find money to fund wars and train terrorists and keep ‘for profit prisons’ filled and money to drone strike the innocent. And what do we do about it? Nothing. We simply keep sexting, texting, watch the Olympics, and shrug off the fact that our water is polluted, our air is polluted. Oceans are rising. Radiation is a serious problem and yet we want the glitter of Hollywood.

    I don’t know, maybe it is how some people cope, feeling that it is better to ignore what they have no control over or feel that they don’t. But to those who feel like that, I say, “you didn’t even try!”

    Thanks again Jeff! And likewise, I will stay with the company that I have been keeping and we go down together, if down we go!

    Like

  3. Shelby, I’m always late to the game, but may I second what Jeff has said so well? Follow your good heart, and remember that some of us do give a shit about the world — and we admire your passionate efforts, and care about you too. It may be no help, but we do it.

    Even if it’s as bleak as it does feel, things won’t go to shit because no one cared and no one tried. Not enough of us do? Maybe not, but maybe so. How much yeast is needed to make bread rise? I garden, and I’m a damn stubborn bitch, so I have trouble completely giving up on life. There are weeds along our alley, that determined men with boiling water, toxic chemicals and power tools, and city road crews with gravel and asphalt cannot kill, or even slow down much. They aren’t lilies or orchids, but those plants keep right on growing. And buckling and disrupting that fine, smooth, regimented pavement in the process. I have morning glories that twine together with their neighbors and aim for a piece of string or a twig — more than a meter above their heads, their terminal buds. How in hell do they even sense there’s anything there? And I see the stubborn things latch on, now and then, to some such elusive anchor. And carry on from there. If we haven’t made the planet uninhabitable (and we may have, I grant that), I still see room for hope. Well, no excuse for me to quit working, at least.

    But that’s me, not you. It may be that you have said enough, that the seeds of thought you’ve sown must germinate and grow in their own time, with results we may not live long enough to see. And I notice that even in despair, you still write poetry — when I just snarl and swear! Take care of yourself now. – Linda

    Like

    • Linda, that may be what my problem is that I haven’t gardened in quite some time. I grew up in farm country and I’ve not picked up a hoe, nor drove a tractor in so many years, it is ridiculous. I can now see the weeds that I used to pick from the string beans and squash and pick the tomatoes off the vines and I remember picking spring onions and when strawberries came in, my mother’s kitchen and dining room would be filled to overflowing with boxes of freshly picked strawberries. I remember that delicious Silver Queen corn that we used to eat after I had of course, helped to shuck it and got a worm on my hand and went shrieking and dancing off and shaking and rattling and rolling all over the place to get one little worm off of me. Oh, those were the days. The summers were filled with swimming and biking and roller skating and bowling and it just seems to me that things were so much more carefree and simple back then, not like it is now.

      You know Linda, as I was typing this, I had to stop. The tears just started to flow down my cheeks because I saw myself and my two sisters riding our bikes and having such a great time and now one of them is dead of a drug overdose and I am not even speaking to the other one. I’ve turned my back on my mother simply because we don’t get along and oh, how torn I am.

      I’ve got some thinking to do and probably some packing.

      Thanks Linda! You brought back memories that were so distant as to have been buried. I sure hope to make more memories in a few short months when I’ll plant my first garden again.

      Take care of yourself too Linda! You are SO appreciated by me! And you ALWAYS will be!

      Like

      • Thank you Shelby, you’re too kind. Family? For years, I really felt I’d been dropped into mine by Martians with a twisted sense of humor. But never mind, they haven’t killed me yet. Do what you need. It may not help, but I always like getting dirt on my hands. – Linda

        One more thing — I’m not sure the Kim Kardashian look is really quite you. But I could be wrong …

        Like

  4. Shelby,
    I will miss your poetry and the topics you post, but I understand how you feel. I will support whatever you decide to do. Maybe taking a break for awhile is what you need. There are days I get tired of posting stories on me and Wolfess’ blog. It’s the same old shit and I know there are days I need to step back. I like to take time to enjoy what I’m thankful for and I want to do that as much as I can. The bottom could fall out any day in this crazy world.
    Much love and peace to you,
    Leen61

    Like

    • Thank you Leen61! Yes, I need a break as I am overloaded and I just simply cannot take anymore. And you are SO right, it is the same old shit and I am seriously tired of bad, worse and miserable. Even if we are headed to hell in a hand basket, I need a break from knowing about it or even thinking about it! I am just TOO sensitive for this shit!

      I went onto someone else’s blog and broke nasty, wiped up the floor with everyone, tossed my head and swept out leaving a “what the hell just flew in here?” I’m turning back into the goddamn Tasmanian Devil, I am! I’ve got to quit while I’m behind.

      And thank you for your comment, it means the world to me!

      Like

      • Please take care of yourself, Shelby. I saw your response to Linda and you’ve had a tough road to go down. I’m so sorry to hear that. 😦 And again, may you find much love, peace and happiness. You deserve all those things.

        Like

  5. Shelby …… Tubularsock knows that feeling you are experiencing. But I view it a bit differently than tossing into despair. Yep, things are fucked so why not repeat that mantra over and over and over again?

    There has NEVER been a time within my lifetime that things have been good really …….. we live in hell so why not embrace it?

    Maybe I just enjoy treading water in shark infested water.

    Take a glass of Champagne, light up some Afghan herb and write. Will it change the world?
    Sure it will ……… change is happening at many levels at the same time …….. who’s to say where we are in a universe that is ever expanding. But for sure we’re not stationary.

    And my happy thought is this: earth will continue but we’ll die off and that will give more room for the flowers.

    Peace …….. or not!

    Like

    • Tube, I feel that this is déjà vu. Remember, “Throwing In The Towel?” Well, it’s worse than that and I for one am tired of being fucked with no end in sight, but what can I do about it? And since I am allergic to smoke, champagne it’ll have to be.

      I’ve finally realized that I can’t change a goddamn thing! I can piss and moan and whine with the worst of ’em and it ain’t gonna get nothing done so I might as well just join the other mindless drones who just pretend that everything is ‘A-OK’ and keep the pretense alive until we take the final dive. Hell! Who am I kidding? Game over man, game fucking over!

      Peace, eh? Try ‘war weary’ here!

      Like

      • Girl! You have to get with it! Smoking herb is so last century! Vaporize Now. All the effects without smoke in your lungs.

        Oh sure, Champagne may be less hassle.

        Now down to business ………..

        You win! (Tubularsock knows you love to win!) SO YOU WIN!

        In fact, Tubularsock is going to join you in your new quest ……

        “. . . just join the other mindless drones who just pretend that everything is ‘A-OK’ and keep the pretense alive . . .”

        So, wait by your front door and Tubularsock will drive over in his $60,000.00 Hummer (on the old credit card) and pick you up and off we go to the mall!

        Yep. Can’t win them, join them. That’s what my good friend Shelby says!

        Tubularsock thought we could both get our hair done in that Kim Kardashian style and while we are there we could rap-out Kanye West’s latest album. And you know how much Tubularsock likes to rap-rap-rap!

        Then off for a “new look” at the boutique scene with each of us charging up those credit cards until J.P. Morgan smiles!

        Then there’s lunch and dinner that we can eat a bite of and throw the rest away! Fuck those dead beat homeless ….. let them eat cake!

        And we can buy some fashionable American Flag shirts and we could buy a present for Linda …….. a pair of stiletto healed sequined clogs ……… HOT DOGGIE!

        And now that we support all the wars we don’t have to be “war weary” anymore.

        Is this fun or what.

        So, as my good friend Shelby says, “I’ve finally realized that I can’t change a goddamn thing!”

        So with that in mind we can finally be two happy Americans. Don’t you just feel the warmth for Obama flowing through your veins now Shelby ……. yeah, I knew you would.

        Ok, ok ……….. sure we can watch Super Bowl reruns!

        Like

  6. Tubularsock – … Mall crawling … Mindless consumption … Super Bowl re-runs …

    Sounds like too much fun. And it certainly sounds like Shelby.

    Oh yeah. Just as sequins and stiletto heels sound like me. Exactly! But how did you know? – Linda

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s