Tougher (60yrsb20yrs)

comin’ up fast don’t fuck with me
twenty years older than dad ever got 2b
doc says my blood looks fuckin’ good
livers living good
bloods pumpin’ good

got nothin’ 2bitch about
no tears 2cry
someday in 40yrs i’m gonna die
’till then just get outta my way
’cause nothing you do is gonna
stop, stop, stop me

im tougher at 60 shit
than ive ever been
been fucked with
fucked over
and still standing and strutting
not being knocked down
so fuck you, you, and you
for thinking im gonna stop
or even take a dive
to make you feel good

still kicking, alive, screaming
bloody murder and never
gonna give up my path
’cause im tougher now
than i ever ever have been
’cause 60 is gonna b my 20
more is comin’
just you watch
just started growin’
watch your back
watch your ass
im havent even started
with you yet

copyright 2020: all rights reserved

photo: 1cufflink 3wedding bands 1set of ivories (Herdic Inn, 2020)

four-1 (yrs) on no1 2tell

stories told
days left empty

four-1 (yrs) on no 1 2tell
re: battles fought
victories claimed

success i 8
shoveled on my dish
w/o rhymes or metre
2 make cents
out of nonsense

all that flow, flow, flowing
throws me out of kilter
words splinter my soul
visions unknown

seeing all i believe
believing all i see
me 2 believe in me

so mean rt now
full of btw
thrown like darts
missing bulleyes
missing battles

losing lost (again)
finding new challenges
living new stories
told in
four-1 (yrs)
2 no1

copyright 2019: all rights reserved

photo: Rt 549: 41 Yrs on. (Mill Creek, 12/19)

Stillness Now

stillness in the form
of the hawk circling
above aging headstones
and my timeless love

warm sun embraces
the tops of my bare feet
and the grass–their grass
tickles my toes and soles

i am here now with them
meditating at their resting places
breathing with none
of the urgency–of the fear
they had so freely given me
when they walked Earth

the sun drifts lower
as evergreens and the hawk
protect me and my breath

yet i feel safer with Mom and Dad
hearing them speak
directing me to tell
my brother how much they love him
sharing that greatness
is headed my way
confident that my ex
will do well in her new life

hawk, trees, sun
all breathing with
my bare feet resting
in the warm cozy grass

literally grounded right now
i re-affirm my pledge
to not get wrapped up in doing
and instead endeavor
to embrace being

stillness now
forever now

Sister’s Voice (Heal)

January 11 2016 PHX PHL WFL 673 Modfied

The night that brought me sister’s voice
Was dead quiet and still as those
Midnights when Mom made her terror all mine
Over four decades and two dozen lives ago

Sister’s voice was also as quiet and still
As she talked about fear and death and failure
Just as Mom had when calmly referencing hitmen and demons
Though instead of sitting on my bed in Fassett
Her voice was thousands of miles away

Prayers and love and concern sent with all my might
Could not erase that fear from her voice
Any more than my aggression and abuse could
Calm Mom’s rising fears and pervasive terror
All those years ago

Sister, sister where have you gone
Why are you back in the hell we once knew
I couldn’t protect you then and I can’t protect you now
From the you running deeper into your darkest head

The growing split that tore her from reality
Made perfect terrifying sense to her
Just as mine did 41 years ago
When I knew in fear Tony would kill me
If he only had the chance

When I heard her voice over the phone
2018
Did not become
1997
Did not become
1973
Because I no longer am just an orphaned son
Made into the Man of The House
Burning down all around my family
Because I am stronger now
In feeling and being loved
Because I know
About hormones PTSD
Medications TIAs CVAs
Such letters and words
Part of my cells’ memory
Angels told me Sister would emerge
They spoke of turbulence
This warrior I am now summoned
The Universe to help her heal
Quieting those voices that became her fears
As wisdom slowly seeped onto her path
I did as I was told and advised from afar

Sending in Angels
Speaking in Tongues with spirits
Conversing in jargon with siblings nurses
Prayers, chants, lessons, consults
All the time knowing her voice
Would soon heal and return

Sister sister heal now through love
Wisdom flowing through me to you
Across our thousands’ miles
Strengthening your Inner Voice
As I sit alone and meditate
Unlike when I was a child
And could only hear
Hell’s voice inside Mom’s head

 

 

Copyright © 2018 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Infinity (Lehigh Tunnel)

This Me

IMG-1871-1 A Storm Builds (Sedona, December 27 2018)

I want to again hear my name called out
From the depths of Hell
To be again summoned to fights demons
I want to again smell their deaths

I want to again cry tears of blood
And feel lightening tearing through my viscera
As it renders me a charred heap

I want to again feel the sound of bones cracking
As steel stone and fist peel my flesh away
Tearing apart my organs

I want to again stand naked in the blizzard
And watch my skin turn purple and black
Against the white-out enveloping me

I want to again hear my throat scream words
No one else hears in the hell that consumes and decimates
As I am again crushed in humiliating defeat
And reduced to grains of sand blown
By the winds
That had once been confined deep within this me

I want to again rage up against the ferocious storms
That flood the valleys and level the mountains
And gives desperation and despair new meaning
Dismembering me as I fight will all my fury
To stop the tidal waves and rebuild the mountains

Soon I will go into that evil night
With sword and wits sharpened
Ready to spill blood and sip wine
In the name of love and self-loathing
Of never feeling good enough for this or that
Until after being put beyond the harshest test
And again emerging miraculously intact

How I await the darkness to wage incessant war
On all my remaining haunting fears
Each moment my serenity my rage building
Forging additional weapons for deployment
As my evolution continues

Copyright © 2018 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Into The Storm (Sedona, 2018)

I Am Not (The Empath’s Moment)

may 22 2918 pic

I am not the energy that flows through you
When you awaken in the morning
And embrace the fresh day’s energy

I am not the hunger that fills you
Or your stomach when it aches for food
Or your heart when it aches for love

I am not the hands that touch you in passion
Or the arms that hold you so tightly
Or the fingers that glide across your skin

I am not your ears that hears the singing birds
Or the tattered voices of the lost and struggling
You encounter during your day: I am also none of that

I am not your organs functioning
Or malfunctioning as you live
Or fall ill
Or stumble toward death
I am not the pain in your in your body
Or soul

I am not the sensuality that fills your daydreams
Or the desires that drive your passion and your glory
Or your orgasms that arouse your senses
Or your lovers
Or your spouses

I am not the sunrise that warms your soul and face
Or the abundance that surrounds you
Or the love you send into The Universe
Or you send to those who mean the most to you

I am not your desperation that lurks in your most secret fears
In your darkest moments
Or your hopelessness
Or your rage and rebellion
Or your self-pity
Or your compassion

I am not the bliss that makes your life worth living
Or your faith and your hope
That nurture your strength;
I am not your strength

I am not the ravages of age and time
I am not the illnesses that claims your abilities
I am not your physical pain
Or the accidents that befall you and your family

I am not your healing
Or your growth through evolution
Or your achievements
Or your enlightenment

I am not the innocent love of your child
Or the beacon-like smile it gives your life
Or the cruelest hatred of your vilest enemies
Or the hyper-vigilance they make your every moment

I am not the serenity that stills your troubled heart
Or the inspiration that drives your grasp closer toward your reach
Or the ambition that fuels all your dreams

I am not that floor collapsing under the weight of all your troubles
Or the ceilings that prevent you from touching the sky
And dancing with moon and stars

I am not the mistakes that you have made
Or the follies you have invested in
Or your regrets
Or your sins
(Your lust, greed, envy, pride, gluttony, sloth or wrath)
Or your redemption

I am not your triumphs that line your sacred space
Or your skills, abilities, strengths, and gifts
That you employ on your warrior path
Or your struggles as you evolve

I am not the fists that have hit you, the taunts that have wounded you
Or the insults that have made you cry so deep inside
That you had nowhere left to hide

I am not the one who betrayed you
Or deserted you
Or back-stabbed you
Or humiliated you

I am not any of them
Or any of those
Or any of that
Despite feeling
And experiencing moments
Each and every one as my own
Before or while you do
On my path to knowing you

 

Copyright © 2018 John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Into The Woods (Cogan Station: May 22, 2018)

When Visions Come

September 26 2015 111

When visions come
All these things
I see I hear I taste I smell I feel
That you and you and you
Cannot will not ever want to
Come flowing through my consciousness
Coursing like water through a pipe
Creating endless curiosities
In my silly logical mind

These visions are not me not mine
Not you not yours
But are briefly of me of mine
Of us of them of everyone
As they cross my awareness
In dreams in waking slumber

Death love pain bliss success failure
All woven into a cosmic blanket
Draped over my naked soul
I am nobody I am everybody just then
I am that vision that scene that place
So torn away from my corporeal self
Wandering Earth a lost and found spirit
Until it drifts away to memory
Until it becomes manifest
In the now in the then in the later

You must warn them
The fearful say
Saving the innocent
And defeating the demons

You must use them
The ambitious say
Taking all that is yours
And manifesting your destiny

You must disown them
The religious say
For knowing such things is evil
And you must please God

You must stop them
The doctors preach
For having visions is crazy
And require me be treated

No mortal not even I
Know my role my sanity
Even after visions come
Am I cold to the victims’ blood
For listening to The Angels
Who speak from beyond religion
Who speak from beyond morals
Who speak from beyond reason
Who speak to enlighten me

No Devil No God
I have looked into both eyes
And felt their touches
In my spirit in my life

I am
My path my future my past
A thousand times each moment
Knowing what is mine
Knowing what is yours
The visions make them ours
For an eternal moment

Knowing being doing
Are the eternal problems
Grounding grounding grounding
Meditating meditating meditating
Fasting fasting fasting
Are the eternal solutions
When visions come

 

Copyright © 2018 John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: The Solitary Tree (Windfall: September 2015)

Thirty-Nine Years On

 

July 14 2015 Sedona and Phoenix 093

 

How broken me nineteen
Bits of pieces scattered around
A room, rented
Out of money
Out of home
Out of love
Out of time
Nothing but a razor in my hand
And determination to stop being

No hero me
Just a child felt tossed away like scraps
For the flies and carrion birds to feed on
This homeless victim orphan drop-out

T-shirt faded
Wrapped ‘round my bicep
Shiny razor in hand
Scratching, scratching, scratching
From wrist to elbow to wrist to elbow
Steel and skin waiting their final
Dance into oblivion

Eyes mine saw hand upon my steel
Mine all mine all mine all mine
My choice my action made so ludicrous
Just then and then and then and forever

Hand mine holding death’s instrument
Like a pen in search of my blood’s ink
This is what I am doing to do what I must?

Homeless orphan drop-out failure loser me
Put down that blade
Loosened the stained t-shirt
Felt blood flowing just then
From wrist to elbow to wrist to elbow
Still within my veins beneath that scratch

No disappearing that day or nevermore
No matter labels no matter wounds
No matter pain no matter losses
No matter solitude no matter fears
No disappearing that day or nevermore

Turning pain into prose poetry
Suicidality into intuition empathy wisdom
And all that into abundance love bliss
From weapon of self-destruction to warrior
From self-hating to sending healing
From lost in darkness to flying into sunrises
Living each day each moment each now
Even during this glorious anniversary
Thirty-nine years on

Copyright © 2018 John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: Sunset Rainbow (Sedona, July 2015)

I Am Here

I Am Here 8 26 17

I am here
Alive and ready for this path
No matter the joys the pains or how often
My feet may pause or my tongue may become still
Though my eyes may not appear to see
All going on around me on my path
And my ears my not seem to hear the laughter the crying
And my hands may not move to heal pain to defeat evil

I am here Smelling the trees as they quietly grow season to season
And looking over the grasses and the flowers and the skies
And sending joy out to all who look upon such scenes
With their eyes with their imaginations with their memories
As they seek refuge in their darkest night or to make their noon brighter

Together, we grow our strength ever beyond strong
Fed by hope and love even as whirlwinds uproot lives all around us
And give rise to fears from hellish pasts or intimidating futures

In the stillness of our souls as the power of The Universe
Cleanses our every cell, flowing through us replenishing us
No matter how far apart we are measured by mere miles mere lifetimes
As we remain eternally joined through our souls

We are here
Alive and ready for our intertwined paths
As The Universe’s DNA
 

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

Photo: Meditation Landscape (Lewisburg, August 26, 2017)