living@102fps


steel shiny
rubber rolling
windshield worlds
click, click, click
of my smartphone
driving@102fps

hotel suites
staff know my name
packed lunches dinners
complimentary breakfasts

then suit-up time
buttoned-down or t-shirted
(superman had his cape: ive got my blazer) and jeans
this psychologist’s uniform

preparing to understand
kids yelling punching soiling @102fps
parents struggling denying
enabling offending

another deep deep plunge
back into the infinite flow
of young faces hiding
tortured souls and secrets
finding dna of their pain

“abused”
“neglected”
“in placement”
“rights terminated”
are never just words
bandied about

so many violated kids
i gotta gotta know
102 feet per second
day in
day out
barely keeping up

“depraved”
“heartbreaking”
“tragic”
all those realities apply

lived their prisons
felt their rages
knew their numbness
storms before my calm
lived decades before
lived lives ago
lived PTSD life
always fighting
always dying
rising up again
until no1Left2fight
but me

being part of their journeys
starting their evolutions
of making mountains into
pebbles on their paths
helping them find miracles

when the evals all done
it’s never barely mentioned
each a stranger again

afterwards i
slip off the sport coat
slip into the car
meditate and
send out healing
as i heal@102fps

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: untitled windshield landscape (Trout Run, PA)

Pencil in a Spa

planes that fly away from me
as the sun leaves my sky
dont know what i want to be
when i finally grow up

who was it who made me
one day at a time
back in the good old days
before my nights had eyes

im not sure i know me
as well as i know you
theres too much
i dont want to see
how my mirrors need cleaning

someday i’ll be all gone
vacant from my body envelope
just floating on the ether
waiting for time to end

’til then i’ll just float
like a pencil in a spa
waiting for my next words

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: Pencil in a Spa (Lewisburg, 2020)

didKnot feel like dyin2day

snow turned winter brown2white
muffled sounds of goodyears ‘gainst pavement
as i sped along backroads
fetch erranding LoverWife’s parcel

didKnot feel like dyin2day
instead found a song
4 inspiration 2 write
another feature screenplay
&
wrote a poem ’bout pTsD
watched TV and a film
with LW

five weeks until Sedona
flying A321@PHL2PHX
smiles (of course)
who cant be happy
@30k ft (tell me, tell me)

2easy2ache4others pain
no: bSelfish2day
had2holdMEtight in life’s embrace
so much life2day
so much beauty2day

hell around isKnotting others
fingertrap and gordian
tying us all down
when 4getting
we doKnot feel
like dyinInside2day

live2love2unravelKnots
peaceB2U
loveB2U
slipKnots
&UBfree

copyright 2020: all rights reserved
photo: squallB4passing (January 2020)

LSD&ME (4RamDass)

image

7teen, no 8teen
after my rape and in2 intermittent homelessness
i found u with some dork named Danny
who said we’d always be brothers
just b4 he started being creepy
and I planned on killing him
if he wasn’t gonna let me out his dorm room

ditched that loser
walked alone around Mansfield
saw it like a Lionel train set town
without the choo-choo train
disappointed my mind didn’t take me anywhere
I hadn’t already been

LSD, everyone said they loved you
4 bringing them visions and cool shit
“don’t trip alone” they all said
f*** that I didn’t need any guide
never told I anyone I tripped
until after the fun start started starting

shit became funnier shit
the world seemed like a giant TV show
with everyone saying their lines
just as I had predicted
cue the canned laughter
and the dancing coeds

50nine now moved on from the trips
so that live trips me along
mindfulness meditation, shamanism, animal spirits
evolving, evolving, evolving
simultaneously being in multiple universes
flowing, flowing, flowing

being that trip that I am so taking
endeavoring to find loving and lightness
on each step of my path

10-q, Babba Ram Dass
4 your books, your open spirit, your love
Namaste

copyright 2019: all rights reserved
photo: Metamorphosis (Butterfly Card)

Magic

i am magic now
seeing with my soul
moving the needle in another’s soul and world
with my words, energy and love

like metaphysical radar
pain comes into my consciousness
my mind’s eye sees it all
feeling all their darkest fears
while knowing their
rightful owner
without owning their fears

empathic vision work precognition
those words mere approximations
of this healing flow

i find something about their lives, their bodies, their essences to love with all my being and all my strength

when i do, my mind’s eye
opens like a spiritual spigot

i send energy to them
i send in The Angels

thick and fluid healing light wrapping around them
healing them
building their path
one pebble at a time

i send without agenda
remaining open to The Universe directing my role

at that moment of bonding
a great sense of release
frees my soul forever
from pain, angst and fear
i had when known theough that troubled soul

as magic makes manifest on their path, i become like a balloon gently drifting upward

i am magic then

in these words
as your eyes read
and your soul embraces
this spirit flowing, sense
The Angels i am sending you

you are magic now

copyright 2019: all rights reserved

photo: Butterfly Spread (12/7/19)

On the Morrow (When I Go To Jersey)

on the morrow
when i go to jersey
and reunite with the boy
i never got to be
in the rolling hills
among the barren trees
i will again be him

on the morrow
i meditating all
along miles of I-80
through farmland
the poconos
and the water gap
itself a perfect symbol
of the transition from
my first couple lives
to infinite next ones

i will stand barefoot
on their graves and feel
their energies mingling
with the earth’s as
pain becomes strength once again

at times
i had made this sojourn
when depressed and defeated
by the weariness in my soul

at times
i had arrived cloaked
with soiled shame and
self-loathing

at times
i had brough questions
silently asked of headstones

once, our energies
stopped my watch
shut down my iphone
and so made me laugh

so, now i go in bliss
in abundance in faith
in surrender in acceptance
of answering their calls

their plots a tile in life’s mindfulness mosiac
where Fool, Magician dance
where High Priestess, Empress sing

fuck, i love it there
on the morrow
when i go to jersey

copyright 2019: all rights reserved

photo: Top Shelf (November, 2019)

Victory (For The Suicidal)

 

Pain
Obscures golden sunrise
And
Crisp winter air
That
Once invigorated me
Like
The sound of giggling children
And
The warmth of a baby
Sleeping on my chest

Sadness
Gloom
Both cloaking me
You
All that moves
Through decaying consciousness
Lies
They both feed me
Regrets
Of past selves
Visions
Of upcoming tragedies
So
Obviously impending
So
Completely deserved

Who
What
Are I to stop the inevitable
Where
I am less than nothing
When
There is no place
Left
For me to go

Pain
Building to a crescendo
Of
Unpardonable Guilt
Of
Irrevocable shame
Of
Suffocating self-pity

You
You
And you
I have to live for
Me
I have to live for
Dreams
I have to live for
Writing
I have to live for

Today
Is just one day
Nothing
More or less
Nothing
Worth dying for

NO
NO
NO
These will not be
Moments
When I spill my blood
Or
Stop air from my lungs
Not
On this day
Not
In this life

YES
I will dismantle my gallows
YES
I will lower my razor
YES
I will leave my death chamber
AND
Never again return
EXCEPT
In glorious memories
CELEBRATING
My greatest victory
Over
My greatest pain
And
My greatest isolation

Faith
Kept and grown
In
Myself is now
My
Gift to you

Know
Your wisdom
That
Only comes from walking
Along
That collapsing cliff
And
Pulling yourself back
From
Your steepest brink

Embrace
Strength that comes
From
Accepting vulnerability
And
Discarding self-imposed
Shame
So that you may
Feel
The golden sunrises
Breathe
The crisp air
And
Walk our living path

RECOVER
On our path
REJOICE
In our triumph
EMBRACING
Our journey

Copyright © 2019 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Reaching for Clouds (July, 2019)

Without

Phoenix to Windfall 10 13 2015 105

On nights when the moon died without shining
And my soul was filled with clouds
Stillness drained my heart of songs
Me, a child soldier on guard duty
Contemplating dying
Yet another death

Feelings that cascade awareness
Feel strange when they belong
To someone else: I’ve no inclination
To hold them close to my heart
To make them part of my soul

But then, oh then
When Her fear was mine
When Her hell burned me
When Her strength fortified me
I was Her then

Endless nights ‘tween midnight
And dawn so slow in coming
I so fucking hated them
And the monsters who visited
The wood outside bedroom turned bunker
In my childhood turn conscription

Still, I found words
Spinning them into worlds
Giving birth to mythical people
Who simply I could never find
In the world beyond my bunker

From son
To Man of The House
To Lord of The Flies
To orphan
I never quite returned
Or ever wanted to
Except kicking screaming
In nightmares and flashbacks

At times
I so wished I would have killed
I so wished I would have fought
Hand to hand on battlefields
I so wished I would have died
The hero’s death
Defending Her goodness
Protecting Her family

But, no, I was just a child soldier
Self-taught in the ways of fear
Self-taught in the ways of hate
Between sunset and sunrise
Without the Her I needed

Copyright © 2019 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved                                                   Photo: Tree Alone (Windfall, 2015)

Snake (Transmutation)

Snake (Transmutation) Image May 11 2018 IMG-3866

This road that punctured my skin
Injecting venom into my viscera
How it stopped me on my path
And brought death so close
That I had to stop living and breathing
And just be in the flickering twilight
Where language lost all meaning
Where love lost all feeling
Where time lost urgency
Where will lost all power

Too scared to move as the creature
Wrapped its head around my world
And sprayed its stream into my every limb
Rendering each lifeless and flaccid
I knew not life
I knew not joy
I knew not me

No pain I felt except in thought
As numbness now coursed through
My each and every fiber of my being
Freezing everything and everyone about me
Paralyzing me in my poisoned pool of me
Others could not see because I did not show
Others could not hear because I did not speak
Others could not know because I did not educate
As what I called life was sucked out my veins

No crises answered could they try
As this road’s fangs were mine to remove
From my violated flesh though this beast
Not an enemy to be once removed
But instead placed gently on a heated rack
For it to bask so that I will always know
The lessons it had brought in changing me
From that someone I had once been
And no longer need to be

Copyright © 2018 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Sky, Land and Road Through Windshield (Windfall, 2018)

Dear Death

Death 8 21 17

 

I sense you
I feel your long pale fingers
As they touch and take the lives around me
Indeed, I sense the coldness of your touch
The killing frost that you are to all who could grow

Twenty-five years ago
I learned of your path into my body
You either didn’t think me a listener as you whispered
In that Reiki Master’s ear or else figured I wouldn’t feel her
Remorse when she recognized your energies entwined with mine

You fool
I had heard your dirges over a decade before
When we played together in my room late at night
A cord tied tightly ‘round my neck
As you patiently waited for my feet to step off and into your arms
Even before you seduced Mom with promises of release
As “How Long” and “When Will I See You Again”
Sang questions that I alone answered aloud to both myself
And you in the crumbling bunker of my adolescence

You didn’t scare me then
As instead the living called to action by The Angels
Forced me so deep into hell that I then begged with my razor
For you to escort me to my ancestors

As a child of nine thirteen years earlier
You caught me off-guard just once
Because then you were just something that happened
To people on TV named King and Kennedy, not Higham

You broke into my life a little at a time back then
Stealing Saturday afternoons and chess games from me
A secret companion Mom shared only after you had come and gone
On Mother’s Day as if her not mentioning you until after you stole Dad
Might make you forever disappear

I sense you
In the faces of a friend’s child
Those who ask me for prayers and energy
On Facebook
In the news
In my waking world
In my dreams or
In the future wrinkled faces
Of my children

I feel the bones the lives the families that you will shatter
As I walk among the ruins you’ve created
My tears and my grief are not for you
Even as I will continue to sense
Who you will only touch and who you will take
And how you will finally take me
But I will never again fear you
Or again deceive myself
Into believing you should
Into persuading you must
Embrace me before your time

© Copyright 2017 by John David Higham. All rights reserved.

Photo: Death (August 21, 2017)