THE DIARIES OF MY MENTALLY ILL BROTHER, vOLUME 1

 

THE DIARIES OF MY MENTALLY ILL BROTHER_cover_062714a

click—> The Diaries of My Mentally Ill Brother, vOLUME 1 by ASHfiction

 

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FALLING TO PIECES TOGETHER

The murmuring flies,

The croaking crows,

The scoffing horses,

Reflect in the rippling daydreams where

I am a dog

Following a cat

Mewing to a mouse

Hidden in the hay

Where sleeps a boy beneath a book,

Ripe with wonder.

My eyes are torn pages

Worn by the wind devouring

Ashes of my mother cast

Unto the meadow, unveiling

A tiny finger bone, it

Once held me as a baby holding

That finger, I held

That finger bone.

I don’t know why I let it go.

 

 

 

 

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My Own Blogsite At Last! ASH-fiction.com

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But, the most ancient scrolls are kept on: THE TABLE OF MALCONTENTS

 

REFUGEES FROM EDEN

If we are sinners banished

We can never be happy.

A thousand sinful minds

Try to build New Eden,

Pursuing the notion of happiness

Like grapes out of reach

While standing in a sea of tears

That cannot slake thirst

With our dreams of memories tantalizing us

Drunk at the bacchanal of self-importance.

If we are not sinners banished

Eden was a lie

To make the children sleep,

Sleep their way home

Following the crumbs of atoms.

 

 

 

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My Own Blogsite At Last! ASH-fiction.com

Visit My Library: ASH Library

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But, the most ancient scrolls are kept on: THE TABLE OF MALCONTENTS

 

(REFLECTION) ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE RECEIVING OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS

I am Clarence Hellmold.

I knew I was old when I could hear the waterfall at the edge of my world.

And the currents around me were speeding up.

I am now most aware of the passing of all things.

That all things pass must have been man’s first revelation.

What are the facts?

I reflect.

There is something called “me” that reflects.

What is reflected?

That gets me nowhere.

Precisely to the point.

And a point mathematically is not a “thing”; a point is a place.

“I” is here.

Here is nowhere imaginable.

Yet everywhere I can imagine is “I”

Does that make me a God?

No

God is the unimaginable.

How can I conceive of the very idea of unimaginable?

I don’t know.

God is “I don’t know”.

Not “I AM”.

Or is the canvas of “I am” God?

I DON’T KNOW

Probably God’s little toe is the “I am”

 

 

 

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My Own Blogsite At Last! ASH-fiction.com

Visit My Library: ASH Library

Follow This Link To My AMAZON.com SITE

But, the most ancient scrolls are kept on: THE TABLE OF MALCONTENTS

 

KINGDOM OF THE GRAVE

My soul did cross your spirit

Amid the great crusade of youth,

To be entombed near it,

Behind the sealing stone of truth,

Renewed for forty years and forty dying,

With each kind compassion,

Recycling bloody claw and tooth,

My God I try to fashion

Around my beaten heart, uncouth

In blasphemy for you overlying,

Before you nothing craving,

And so for that remain a slave

With the nothing I am saving

Within the holey Kingdom of the Grave.