Amends by K. Kenneth Edusei

My reflection haunts me,
I don’t like who I see,
There are so many things I despise about him,
I wonder how I live with me,
I have so many reasons to hate him,
We must exists in the same space,
I am the steward of his bad habits,
Daily forced to see his face,
There is no place to hide from him,
I fight him all the time,
I know he cannot swim,
So I drown him in a glass of wine,
I hate to make eye contact,
With a reflection I wish would die,
He tells me all I try to forget,
The one person to whom I could never lie,
He’s my eternal score keeper,
I can never run from him,
I’ve grown so strong in hatred,
Cause I can’t forgive my sins,
I am weary of this battle,
How do I make peace with me?
Maybe it’s time we talk about this,
Maybe it’s time to set things free,
Maybe I need to let go some pain,
And work on becoming better,
When I asked for wings earlier,
I didn’t expect such stormy weather,
I don’t have any answers,
But this needs to be fixed,
I’m trying to find a way to love him,
He’s someone I genuinely want to live with.


Moment of Solitude by K. Kenneth Edusei

I usually write to 90s theme music, but today I am in the park listening. Listening to the birds chirping, dogs barking, people talking, and probably the most annoying, insects buzzing. Despite the many sounds I hear, I feel the pull of a moment. A moment separated from infinite linear progression. For this moment I feel freed from the temporal world. This is a moment to reflect, to dream, to plan, just to… Moments like these help shape my vision in the present, think or rethink the future, and help me come to terms with the past. This is separated from infinite linear progression. This is a moment of solitude.

Blurred due to recent events, my vision is not stable. I’m doubting my ability to interpret the world. Is this tree really a tree? Is the grass greener than before? Why do the birds sing such a somber song? My vision has failed me before; somethings are just so very hard to see. Even with contingency, I was forced to scramble. Fortunately, impromptu is a skill I am equipped with. Yes, I am able to handle what the world shows me. I may not like what I see but I am prepared. I am ready to see things clearly and overcome them. I am ready to see what exists in the present and I am ready to take on the challenges of existing.

Looking at this present world makes me think. Think about a future I desire, a future I want. But the future I want, the one with this, this, and this, is not guaranteed. I guess the first step in planning the future is knowing what that future is. I guess it’s time to rethink things again. “What’s your motivation Kenny? Why are you walking this path?” Necessity? “Come on Kenny you can do better than that.” Need? “Whose need? What you need?” I need… better. “Better what?” Just better… “Well, how do you… better?” You try better, act better, play better, think better, strive better, persist better, love better. You just do better! “Haha, well, that sounds like a plan!”

What is this sound? Like a rustling, lightly in the background. And what is this sensation? It feels like a slight tug on one’s shirt. Anyway, the plan for the future does not exist apart from the past. The corridor of personal history shows me so much. I see apologies to give, goodbyes to impart, and greetings I failed to utter. The murals of missed opportunities, the canvases of wasted time, and the different colors highlighting the paths I rejected. Again, I hear this rustling. It sounds closer. And I feel the touch of something. Like a light wave washing over my body. That tug, it has gotten stronger. Now it is more like a pulling, consistent and directional. Hmmm… Let me hurry. First to the wall of errors. I am sorry, I acknowledge the things I have done wrong. Now to the place of loss. I feel so weary looking at these tombstones. Saying goodbye does not mean I miss you any less. The goodbye itself cannot truly express how things have changed. To those whom I have failed to greet, I say hello and hello again.

What is this pull? It feels like an earth magnet pulling me in! I hear the rustling loudly, that push against my skin is stronger, and birds? I know, I understand now. One cannot be separated from infinite linear progression forever!  I am back in the park. The dogs are gone. The trees rustling loudly as the wind cools from the heat. The birds are singing; the chatter of people is all but gone. My moment has passed. I feel grounded, hopeful, yet a little burdened. Wow, so much has transpired and it only took a moment.

Wanderlust Wednesday: Internal Exploration

We all get caught up in the busyness of everyday life and often we forget the benefits of taking time for self-reflection. Today we explore the benefits of internal exploration, possibly the true final frontier.

Meditation is an ancient practice that has experienced a resurgence in recent years. It can take many forms including guided mediation, prayer, and yoga. Regardless of the style of practice, all forms share the common goal of quieting the mind and can often be used for stress reduction.

Here is an excellent meditation video with Deepak Chopra.


For more information on meditation, visit the following sites:

Cigarettes, Diamonds, and Melancholia by Ren Martinez

It’s just one of those nights tonight. When the room is too quiet and my feet are too cold and my phone is seemingly empty of all human contact. Loneliness has snuck in through the cracks, sweet and sinister like the smoke curling from cloves. It burns the back of my throat; my eyes begin to sting.

Instead of banishing it, stubbing out the end of that cigarette into the surface of my coffee table, I do something else. I breathe it in. I let that sugar-drenched scent pour into my body and soak up through my pores and stick to my tongue. I blow smoke rings of sadness back into the air, watch it dissipate into nothing.

It’s a beautiful thing, being lonely.

So often, we are told to hoard emotions like happiness, love, excitement – these are the glittering jewels that we wear on our fingers and hold in the hollows of our throat. They are cherished; they are beloved. Yet, not all that glitters is gold. Pain, fear, and sorrow shine just as brightly. But, rather than wear them like diamonds, we do our best to blot them out, erase their existence into the blackness from whence they came. On nights such as this, I’m expected to wear a false smile of cubic zirconia as if everything is fine.

But, there is something beautiful in all the things we hide. There is poetry in tears, how they cling to lashes with a lover’s desperation. There are songs sung in your bones even as they break in envy. Paint swirls beneath skin in angry, crimson strokes. And loneliness burns as cloves, deadly sweet smoke filling your mouth.

It’s nearly one in the morning and I’m still alone. In the darkness, I can see the embers of a half-lit cigarette glittering like a jewel.

I breathe in.