Anatomy of This Blog

Anatomy of this blog: a compilation of poetry--either written by myself or others--artwork, thoughts, emotions; any form of creativity.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Rebirth

Happy Thursday Afternoon, Moths. 

Thursdays are such an underrated day, aren't they? But think about it: tomorrow is Friday, which means the weekend is practically here! Thursdays are the tipping point of the week, after Hump Day Wednesday and right before Thank Goodness It's Friday (or is that just the restaurant?). Well I'm designating Thursdays as Thankful For Thursday, yeah?

Anyway, the topic of discussion for today's post: reincarnation. I know, I know. My last discussion was on the idea of God and eternal life with Him after we die, but like I said in that post, I am very open-minded about a variety of different concepts pertaining to the after-life, and this thought of mine peaked my own interest, and so I will share with all of you lovely people for a food-for-thought (not sure where that expression came from, but if you want to send me food for my thoughts I wouldn't say no...).

SO, reincarnation! In particular, the opportunity of being reincarnated as another life. Many religions, including Buddhism and Hinduism, as well as historical figures such as Plato and Socrates, believe in this idea of a cyclical life. Now I am not saying whether I necessarily believe in this or not, but there's something about being reborn with a new opportunity that I want to discuss.

*side note: the thing about discussing religion is that we will never really know what's right or wrong until we die and experience it ourselves! That's why I do not deny nor scoff any one religion over another, because as humans, we are far too small-minded to possibly fathom the scope of something as grand as a higher being. 

Now, what I am getting at is our chance to make a difference in the world and spread love/joy/kindness/happiness/etc. with every life. Say, for example, in one life a person spreads their message through music as a musician, and in another life they spread it through movies as an actor/actress, and in another they are an activist standing up for a worthy cause, and maybe in one of those lives they are an aspiring poet/writer that has a blog to spread their message about topics like heartache and independence and mental health.....okay maybe that last one was me. The point is that maybe if we choose to lead a life of love and kindness, that our souls will continue on to inspire in another body as another life. After all, our human bodies are only temporary. Maybe if we do that, if our souls stay pure and good-hearted, we will be chosen to be reborn into life on earth to continue to make a difference. To change the lives of others along the way.

Notice there are a lot of "maybe's" in there...

Whether we are reincarnated, or sent to eternal life with God, or simply left to rest for eternity, it's not about what happens after we die. It's about what we do with our lives now, here, in the present. There are a lot of "what if's" when it comes to the after-life, but the during-life is what we can be certain of. We're all alive, but are we living. Are we looking past the material things and the petty things, and focusing on family, friends, relationships, happiness....the things we can hold onto forever. The things that we carry in our hearts, not our wallets or handbags. Focus on those things. Focus on being true to your soul.

Live a worthy life, moths. xoxo

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Caress of Sleep

It's barely dawn as I begin to wake,
Caressed by the light of morn.
Outside sparrows claim their stake,
To return to slumber? I'm torn.

Sleep calls my name, a whisper at most,
her gentle touch tugs at my eyes.
Enveloping me, holding me close,
What wonderful dreams there lies.

The promise of morning fades away,
I leave the sparrows to their song.
The beckoning of sleep outweighs,
To her familiar warmth I belong.

-b.m.

Friday, November 17, 2017

Contrast

Hello My Lovely Moths.

It is a crisp fall night out and the breeze coming in from my open window onto my hot skin from my heated blanket is blissful. Late at night when the world is asleep and the air is still, I have my window wide open just listening to the gentle rustle of the wind kissing the tree's leaves, and the calm of it all is so radiant I could almost hear the stars singing to me. In that moment, nothing else in my life matters. There is no today nor tomorrow, there is only the present and I have absolutely no worries. It's almost so freeing that I forget everything that has ever caused me strife and the tiresome weight I've been trudging has been lifted off of my shoulders. But as much as I want to pause that safe moment and live in it forever, at some point my eye lids start to droop and I am caressed by sleep....

A n y w a y, 

Where was I going with this post tonight...? Ahh yes I remember. Tonight I want to talk about the idea of the balance between life and death, good and bad, light and dark, etc. A little background:

The other day I was riding the university bus to a class and feeling absolutely dreadful of how things have been going in my life with school, relationships, personal accomplishments, etc. Lately it has felt as though the shadows have been puppeteering my strings, drawing me into its darkness like a predator and its prey. As I was feeling all of this, lost in the music that was drowning out the world around me and staring blankly out of the window, I saw two pigeons fly off of the roof of a building: one was pure white while the other was strikingly dark. I know I know, you were seeing things, that sounds like something out of a movie, but I swear to you I saw it clear as day. A bird as white as fresh snow flying alongside another bird so much darker that it seemed as though it were the white bird's shadow. The moment was fleeting as the birds flew off past another building, and I looked around as if to see if anyone else had just seen what I had. Nobody seemed to be as astonished and jaw-droppingly mind blown as I was, and the passengers around me were either lost in whatever it was lighting up their phone screens, or desperately trying to secure their spot on the nightmaringly overcrowded Rutgers bus. It was the most striking thing I had ever seen, and my poetic mind immediately jumped to the conclusions that only I was meant to see those birds and that they were flying, feathered signs from someone up there answering my worries and doubts.

Bri, they were two random birds that happened to fly by while you were riding the bus. That hardly seems like a sign from God.

I can see how that observation would be more realistic, but I don't believe in coincidences. As I hinted to in the beginning, the idea of a  "balance" between light and dark, yadda yadda, was sparked by these two birds. You see, without one, we would not be able to appreciate the other. For instance, take the notion of life and death. If we did not experience death (say that we lived forever), then there would be no drive to live life to the fullest because we will have eternity to do the things we want to do. Like a project with no deadline--it would never be finished. On the flip side, there has to be and end to life for there to be the idea of death, without which we would not be able to appreciate the beauty of. Like a solution with no problem to give meaning to it. Seeing the white pigeon would not have been as significant without the presence of the darker one beside it to emphasize the contrast. In life, no matter how much turmoil you go through, no matter how much pain and suffering, you wouldn't be able to feel how truly effortless life is without it. Like that feeling when you have a stuffy nose and looking back at how much you take for granted the times when you could breath with your mouth closed and not have to blow your nose every five minutes sounding like a train horn... Ahh, the simple things in life. 

So yes, I think that the two birds were a sign to remember that with the storm will come the calm after. I was so humbled to be given this intimate message. As if I was chosen to see this because I would be able to appreciate its significance the most. Given to me so that I may relay it to others. I promise, no, I pinky promise--*gasp* that's the most powerful promise there is, that's how confident I am in this--that you're no exception to that rule. That as hopeless as the world may seem around you, it will get better. The beauty of it all is that you will come out of it so much stronger, and realize that because life threw you that curveball, you can learn how to not strike out the next time around (talk about a home-run, am I right?!).

Okay, is it just me or am I on fire with the analogies tonight??
.
.
.
Accept all that comes with life, moths. xoxo

     

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Priority

For once I want to be someone's first choice:

The first person they tell when they have good news.
The first person they call when they have the blues. 

The first person they yearn for when their mind wakes.
The first person they think of when their heart aches.

The first person they trust with all of their secrets.
The first person they text when hopelessly sleepless. 

The first person they say they love when asked.
The first person they truly feel could be the last.

The first.


-b.m.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Child's Play

Being drunk gives you the courage to text me at 3am? 
That's a coward's line. 
You've been watching too many cartoons, dog.

-b.m.


Pity

I almost feel sorry for 
little boys that feel like 
they need alcohol to 
get the courage just to 
text me at 3am. 

Honey, you could be 
drunk off of our 
love at 3am.

And he chose the bottle... 


Pity.

-b.m.

A Little Faith

Good Evening, Moths. 

I've been on a rollercoaster of emotions as of late. I could be laughing so much that my cheeks hurt in one moment, and sink into a depressive state retreating to the safety of my bed within a matter of hours. A constant fluctuation between being on top of a mountain, looking out at the world, and sitting at the bottom of the sea, left alone to my thoughts. It's exhausting, really. I know you're all thinking, this sounds very saddening Bri, but as with everything else in life, there is a lesson to be learned from this, and a point to sharing these personal ups and downs. 

So, the topic I want to talk about tonight is the idea of the body as a temporary vessel, and how minuscule our time on earth is. This is not to say that what we do doesn't matter and that there's no point to life, so just bare with me and keep an open mind. I recently watched the movie "The Shack" (and by recent I mean just last night). If you've taken anything away from the posts I've written in the past, you can likely gather that I am an empathetic, emotional person. Usually (almost always) there will be a part in a movie that I will cry to, it's inevitable. Whether it be a happy ending, sad ending, and everything in between. What was special about this movie is that I was so invested, that I cried multiple times throughout. What's extra special about it is that the idea behind it is based on someone that lost their faith in God when something terrible happened in their life. 

Hold up, you're about to talk about religion?? 

I will tell you that despite having gone to church almost every Sunday growing up, I am not the most religious person. I don't study the bible or listen to scriptures on the radio in the morning. Because of my ecology background, I heavily learned about evolution growing up and for a while I was hard-headed on the idea of a "higher being" controlling all of life rather than just nature itself. I asked questions (and still ask) such as "why isn't there anything in the bible about dinosaurs" and  "how could a person be made using the rib of another??" As I've gotten older, I am a lot more open to the idea of God and wish to understand more. I know, it all seems confusing on where I stand as of now, but all I'm going to say is that I still believe in evolution and natural selection and all of that ecology jazz, but I accept the idea that there is something greater than we can ever imagine that lies beyond the earth. 

That brings me to my next point: we as humans aren't even close to being able to comprehend all that God and heaven may be. Just writing this post, I have a hard time finding the right words to convey my thoughts. "The Shack," although a movie, beautifully captures the hesitance of humans to accept that there is a God due to all of the hatred and violence and sin that happens every day. A common phrase skeptics use is "why would God let these bad things happen." I'll be honest, this was something that sat at the back of my mind when I went to church growing up, but the movie does a really beautiful job of reflecting this thought and creating a possible explanation for it. The idea is that everyone is God's children, and He/She loves all of them unconditionally, with no bias or hesitance. God, however, cannot stop bad things from happening. There will always be sin and bad things on earth. But as I mentioned earlier in this post, human life is temporary

Take for example, the movie. The onset of the skepticism and anger of the main character is that his young daughter was kidnapped and murdered while he was saving his other two kids from drowning in the lake they were camping by. As anyone else would have reacted, he went into a deep depression. How could such a horrible thing happen to this young, beautiful girl? More so, how could God let something like that happen to such an innocent soul. Yes, what happened was terrible, but this little girl, a child of God, will now spend the rest of eternity with God in a place where she will never feel pain, grief, fear, etc., again. A moment of horror will now equate to an eternity of happiness. When looking at it that way, her death isn't something to be mourned. The father will have to wait a little while until he can join her, but by the end he knows that they'll be together again in this eternal life, and the years he'll have to spend without her are nothing compared to the lifetime they'll spend.

Now how does this relate to me and my depression lately? When I stop and take a step back from my life, I realize one of two things: (1) what I'm feeling now won't last forever, and (2) by accepting God I will always be loved, and the short time that I have on earth will be nothing compared to what I have waiting for me after it's come to an end. It's almost a relief once you accept this. Like all of the struggles that I face/will face are so unsubstantial and no matter what failures I face or mistakes I make along the way, I will always be forgiven and loved unconditionally. The vulnerable human body with its sensations like hunger, cold, pain, heart ache, and exhaustion are all--yes I'm going to say it for the millionth time--TEMPORARY. Stop fretting over the little things, because the human lifespan is a blip compared to e t e r n i t y. It's almost the same as when we were babies, how we don't remember a single sensation or memory from it. The times we had to get our first shots or cried for hours for some forsaken reason (sorry mom and dad) were so minute that our brains didn't have the capacity to hold onto any of it. That's how this life will be when we are spending eternity with God. You will make it through this. I will make it through this.  

Have a little faith, moths. xoxo

Fleeting

I wish I could freeze a moment in time. Bottle up its essence. Revisit it at times when I feel life is too much to handle. When life seems like a never ending storm cloud. That moment, bottled up, would be like the sunshine peaking through. A reminder that even on the darkest of days, there is still light hidden underneath, waiting patiently to illuminate the sky.

But life is not all sunshine and rainbows.

These moments are so fleeting. So temporary. Once they're gone, we can't get them back. We can take pictures or videos, sure. They will live on as memories that we can look back on. But we will never be able to truly relive that utter happiness we had in our hearts that day, or the gut-wrenching laughter that poured out of us so effortlessly and uncontrollably as if nothing else in the world mattered. People change. Life moves on. That's the way it is. And once we're at the end of the road, greeting death as a forgotten friend we've been meaning to catch up with, we'll reflect on those moments we held onto so dearly. How precious they were. How fleeting the were.

How fucking fleeting they are.

-b.m.

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Deep Down

It feels as though I'm deep under water, swimming to the surface, but
never

truly


reaching



the




air
.
.
.
that's what depression feels like

-b.m.

Know Your Worth

He compares your beauty to the stars because he sees you as
one among millions.

You aren't a single star in space my dear,
You are the 
whole 
damn 
galaxy

And he hasn't even been to the moon.

-b.m.

Friday, November 10, 2017

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Ignition

You set a fire in my heart,
yet
                you're
afraid
             to
    get
                                  burned.

       
-b.m.

sdrawkcaB

Wanting
To
Go
Back
To
How
Things
Were
Is
Backwards
Thinking

-b.m.

Rhythm

      She doesn't need someone else's music to dance.

She 
            sways
to  
              the 
rhythm 
         of
  her
              own
damn
              heart.


-b.m.

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Thin Layer

Human life is such a fragile thing. A thin layer of skin lies between the outside world and our beating heart and breathing lungs and brittle bones. Filled with icy blue liquid that turns scarlet when it gets a taste of the stale air, as if in shock. Some veins are visible, pulsing with rhythmic elegance so poetic no pen nor paper on earth could condense it to mortal words.

Such a fragile thing.

A slip of a knife.
One too many pills.
A breath under water.
A broken heart.

Such a fragile thing.

Life.

And it hangs on such a thin thread. That threshold between life and death. Between breathing and being still. Between light and dark. Between being and having been. The craziest part? We have the power. The power to end it all. But we choose to continue on. The bravest thing anyone can possibly do. To get up every single morning and try. Try so damn hard. That's all we can really do, is try. Because there is no one on this earth that is winning at life. There is no peak existence. There is only making it to the end, when you've done all that you could do in a lifetime and have no more left to give to the world. That is when you have succeeded. So for now, just keep waking up in the morning. Keep making the most of what you can and striving for what it is you were put on this earth to do. Keep choosing life.

Keep living, moths. xoxo 

Brewing

Something is stirring from deep within;
My hands are shaking.
My body is quaking.
A storm is brewing beneath my skin.

Like a dormant volcano inactive for years;
The pressure is building.
The air is chilling.
Threatening to erupt are my deepest fears.

The explosion, by nature, is cruel and relentless;
The screams are shattering.
The tremors are battering.
The victim, my spirit, is weak and defenseless. 

The screaming hushes and the shaking stills;
My soul is hollowed.
Then darkness follows.
Hauntingly silent, my loneliness kills.

Back to dormancy, I quiet once more;
The smoke clears.
Dried are the tears.
How long it will last, I cannot be sure.

I cannot be sure.

-b.m.

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

twenty one years

twenty one years i have lived.
i have grown.
have felt.
twenty one years i have not found love.
i have not received love.
have not made love.
twenty one years my heart has waited.
my heart has ached.
has yearned.
twenty one years of being polite.
of being supportive.
being patient.
twenty one years of suppressed words.
of suppressed feelings.
suppressed desires.
twenty one years without your eyes on mine.
without your hands on mine.
your lips on mine.
.
.
what will the next twenty one bring?

-b.m.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Plague

There’s a menacing shadow 
that stalks in the night.
It seeks out the innocent,
& consumes their light. 

It’s poison takes many forms,
a shapeshifter, of sorts.
Whether it be smoke or liquid,
or a solid, like quartz. 

By air it dances without constraint,
sashaying from lung to lung.
By sea it swims into the veins,
through skin or off the tongue. 

It preys on anyone in its path,
no matter how young or old.
Brothers or sisters, daughters 
or sons. Over all it takes its hold.

A prayer for those trapped in its 
jaws, fighting the ultimate fight. 
From the pain they’ll learn to grow,
Like plants to springtime light.



-b.m.