Supernova ( ninety nine times nine)

Black Holes, it’s said, are not empty space, but rather so much matter packed into a small space, that it creates a gravitational pull so strong that even light itself can’t escape…

Maybe this is why you feel so locked in…you’re not a shell…you’re still you…

These are created when a massive star dies…the ghost remnant core remains and it pauses while collapsing…here…time stands still…

You’re not something else just because you’re depressed

Just because you’re frozen in an event …

You’re still you

You’re still light …

These

greatly influence the neighborhoods around them

If a normal star passes by and is touched by the gravitational pull

It can tear itself apart…emitting gamma rays into space…

This can dramatically create new,

or even stall the growth of,

Or devour surrounding stars …

This is why

I believe we are not as we are told…

You are not weak

You are overwhelmed

We are after all, light and made of star stuff…

Please know…

It’s only that we are packing so much information in small spaces,

Like trying to fit the moon and the sun times ninety nine and nine in our eyes and hearts …

We can’t beat on like that …without erupting…into a supernova

It’s devouring us

It’s inspiring us

It’s stalling us

Unplug

You don’t have to

Take it all in

All the hurt

All the pain

All the world over

Come back

To

The stars

Come back to yourself

You are heat

You matter

You bring your own light

You influence those around you

You touch more than you know

You matter

You matter

It’s ok to pause

You’re still you

And you make time pause

Because you’re older and larger

Than anything we’ve known

Even the universe has to pause just to take you in…

-E

Regardingsamuel.com

Broken glass

You called me and asked if I believed
In PTSD for frontline workers
And I said absolutely
And you said you just couldn’t do it anymore
And someone quit just to sell things on eBay
Little firefly white flags of surrender to the universe…
I don’t have the answers
But I can say
That I wish it wasn’t this way…
wasn’t it just a few months ago
We had spent a few years not talking to our families and breaking up because of politics ?
Now we have quarter of a million dollar retail days
And we are all so numb and so so young
And how do we raise our children
How do we be good partners ?
How do we stand on our two feet and face each other after this …
During this …
How can we love each other
Hold each other
Stand
If I’ve learned anything
From life
It’s stand
And trust your voice
Is it safe ?
To write ?
Never…
There’s a price in staying the same
And there’s a price in creating
In writing
In building
But stand…
Quietly
Calmly
And build
Do what you can where you can
While you can
And forgive
Everyone has a story
Everyone is a novel
And we are just
Sentences
Not even chapters
So forgive
And accept that people are not going to change…
And you can’t change them…
But you direct your life …
Someone told me they quit drinking
“It’s so easy” they said …”to get carried away…”
Me too…
We stared into the parking lot …
“Recreational…”
that’s what we say
About substances
But it’s so easy to become a habit and a lifestyle…
Don’t let that happen…
Your anxiety and your sleeplessness
Will be so much easier
Sober…
Trust yourself …
Liberty
Real liberty
Real freedom
Is building your own life
And it’s also
Saying
Yes,
I get it
Me too
I’m afraid
I’m numb
I’m struggling
I don’t know exactly what I’m doing
But I’m building
I’m not staying here
There’s not another year here
I have a responsibility
I can’t stay here …
We are all numb
And we are all on fumes
But we are building
We are mourning
And grieving
Change and loss hurt
But we are
Here
Right now
All we have is time
You called me…
And someone quit just to sell things on eBay
Little firefly white flags of surrender to the universe…
And
I thought about how much we’ve grown
How much we’ve changed
How much further we have to go…
-E

Francis Cash #29

Ethan: How are you feeling today boys? You want to do stuff today or just be lazy?
Francis: I’m feeling kind of snackish…maybe the porch.
Ethan: The other day I asked you and you didn’t want to do ANYTHING.
Francis: Well you always want to go cave diving or bike jumping or book stores! Climb mountainy mountains!
Ethan: I asked if you wanted to go to the park…
Francis: Oh…wheely? Wows…I don’t ‘member that…

Your Days (on the level)

For what it’s worth,
You matter,
Your days are still yours, no one else’s
If you don’t feel like creating
It’s ok,
That’s why we have dark winters
And midnight
But even the memes you share
The menus you read
The watch and the band
So many simple things
Were created
And styled
Let yourself
Be yourself
——-
I tried to numb myself into submission
I tried to not carry it anymore
I tried to stare into the fire
And hope it would cover me
But then all things leveled
To eye level
My level
I drank with the devil
My vices too
And
I saw
That there are only days
And each soul is handed the same worn used cards
They are only played differently
And I
Saw no more heavy dreams
And rains
Only work and pain
But happiness too
I saw particularly
Participation
Rather than blind optimism
Risk and chance
And accomplishment in the end ….
——
You will keep on
You will hold love for a moment
You will win and you will lose
You will hurt
And you will be tired
But you will begin again
——-
Your days are still yours, no one else’s
You matter,
For what it’s worth…

-E
Regardingsamuel.com

3am

3am
(I’m going to have to convert a room into a studio because with pets this is almost impossible)

3am
This is your hurt calling
—-
How many,many is the numeral infinity….
The notebooks you fill
To catch the oceans inside
——
But we still try
——
And you are
Silver and gold
——
Hearts still beating
On the butchers floor
——
Feel the stars take the hold
——
3am
This is your hurt calling
——
You live and you hold
Silver and gold
Stars and Infinity
Constantly grow
Let the earth take hold
Oceans
Oceans
——
You could never be held
Not with control
——
You deserve to be free
——
Free
——
3am

-Regardingsamuel.com
-E

Beagle in The City #293

Ethan: (steps in something…) what the?? Ugh…FRANCIS! Francis Cash! Get in here!
Francis: What did I do?
Ethan: Why did you not use your litter box? Oh my god, it’s everywhere…this is carpet man.
(Starts to clean it up.)
Wait, this isn’t sh$t this is olives…
Simon: Yeah, I wouldn’t eat those, they’re gross and disgusting.
Francis: Atleast he tries new tings.
Simon: the cheeses were good tho.
Ethan: man, I was saving these…

Francis Cash #20

Francis: Good luck at the job today…I know what it’s like in the City….Covid and the weather…

Ethan: Would you look at this wise guy, Simon? I’ve been working every day for a year and he knows what it’s like out there…

Francis: I wish I could go with you.

Ethan: I tell you what, I’ll stay here and you can go to the job.

Francis: cough cough …I don’t think my pet deposit covers that. . .

The Works of Man

The bible says somethin’ about the Holy Spirit leaving the earth near the last days…how hard it is for man after that.

That’s what I thought of when I saw her…

Her face was black and not even blue, just broken and taped back together…

She couldn’t even wince from the pain of walking, she was stiff like our grandfather…and stood like a crow bar.

She was 25.

When we left the hospital, we went to get her things. From the garbage excuse of a trailer, he was supposed to be at work…

But I guess that’s how these things and men and the way of young love goes…

They’re accountable for nothing…not even an 11 dollar an hour job.

I remember her clothes had black patches of sweat and mold in them.

They smelled of cigarettes

The kitchen table was dirty from the residue.

The place smelled of that smell you only get from a broken refrigerator…

I opened it just to make sure ,

There in the center of all that rotten was last nights box of take out…

“Ugh What the hell…”

I had to find the bathroom and quick

There were holes in the wall all the way down the hall…I turned in to wash my face….

The shower was black and molded

The water was off…

I kicked the lid to the toilet open

Before I started vomiting

It hit me in the face like a train

No water

Packed full of shit

——

Why the hell did she stay here?

He kicked her around and around

——-

He came stumbling in angrier than a starved dog…

Knife in his hands

Gun in his belt

I grabbed the knife by the blade and kicked him across the room

He took off in his car, but didn’t make it far…

He wrestled for a while with the locals and kicked a few down

He drew his gun

And started cursing about my sister and how he owned her

There was a fence he had crashed into

A tamping pole or rod leaning against it

I picked it up and ran it through his foot

“Shut up for once in your life.”

He cried all the way to jail.

I kept thinking about that verse

All of her hurts

Why men do what we do

And what kind of man

Can live with that?

Maybe it’s a different kind of evil…

My father killed men in the war

And his father too

I thought about that as I set another charge on a tree.

——

He was spitting and cursin’ as we brought him down in the thicket.

“You can’n’t kill me! They’re gunna fine out ‘bout it! Yew stupid idgit! She’s MINE I will have what’s MINE!

Married before GOD and everybody ! “

“Oh I’m not going to kill you…God might…but I won’t …the wolves might…but me? I’m just going to hurt you…if you die…it’s up to a higher power than me…now the sheriff, he’s gonna think you ran again, You know, like you did my sister…when you made her run and you played your little hunting games?….you better run…”

I raised my gun…and the headlights…

He made it a few paces I guess…

The last I heard were some obscenities

Then I charged the blasts

the trees exploded around him

I thought about her and the Holy Ghost and the war and the 4th of July…

Out of mind

There’s a man

Going around

Passing out promises

Gold and silver too

But the success

Never reaches down this far

No,

They won’t follow you down

And every woman I know

Works harder than two men

And they love

And they bleed

And they sew up our needs

And like Cash said

“When the man comes around”

Well, they won’t follow you down

So we fight

And we survive

Even when our paychecks

Barely make it through

What else are we to do

The silver and gold

Doesn’t come down this far

But they pass it around

With promises too

But they won’t follow you down

—-///

And I

I can’t write

My head is filled with clouds

I try to sit

But I can’t breathe

I watch the colour in the trees

And I think

About the dumpster on the side of the road where we used to get shoes and we used to get books…

And I think

About time

I hope I’ve used mine

Well

I think about the old man

Who lived in a school bus

And had a teenager for a wife

Her eyes said she had escaped something worse

A sort of curse

But I was too young to understand

Now, I think as I try to write, what good am I? What good am I?

If we can’t listen

If we look away

What good am I

And what good have I done …

A clouded head is part of Crohn’s

Just like the ache in the bones

The shouting stomach

The anxiety and the depression

I write about it but I can’t talk about it

And you’ll never see it

I guess

We all are just stories in the end

And we want what we want

And we say it sets us apart

And we expect others to know

But part of us stays on the road

Because even we don’t know…

And all we have is time…