Unmoored

 

unmoored, cast adrift

in a fierce sea of pain

my life raft, a bed

of knotted sheets

down and feather

nerve endings clinging

to barnacle covered rocks

grated, bloody and raw

as each new surge

masks signals of distress

tossed ashore

with a pain hangover

the weight of a drunken sailor

I drag myself forward

in search of solid ground

Stealer Of Time

 

a grotesque predator
stealer of time
turned uglier with sound
holds you captive
with bolts of searing pain

a survey of your armory
reveals no effective defense
against blazing hot talons
that claw and drag
                            pierce and stab
their torturous ascent

"it's all in her head"
shatters the silence

lying twisted and contorted
coiled in the shadows
the irony splits you open

Birthday Reflections

Today is my birthday . . . I am forty one years young.  At least that's what I try telling myself (as though reciting some positive affirmation I'm trying to believe in).  Truth is I feel anything but.  The years seem to slip by and when I pluck up the courage to actually look in the mirror, I often don't recognize the woman looking back at me.

 

I don't mean to wallow but it is my party and I'll cry if I want to.  Okay, so I'm keeping the tears on hold but this past week has been a tough one.  I've had a migraine every day and my facial nerve pain has spiked which has left me feeling less than upbeat.  At least I have a craniosacral treatment this afternoon which I'm hoping will help.

 

They say that stress exacerbates pain so the citizenship test I will be taking tomorrow probably isn't helping.  I break out into a cold sweat at the mere thought of a test.  All common sense flies right out the window and words all to often fail me.  I'm hoping that tomorrow my brain gives me a break and makes an exception.

New From Dyche Designs Studio

Sea of Love

10"x10" Mixed Media Art Painting

 

Love

6"x6" Mixed Media Wood Panel

 

Migraine City

7"x5" Mixed Media Art Painting

Love Connections

Ensnared

The change in air pressure was a sign . . . the thunder, the rain, the lightening just a part of the show.  It was always there, sitting, waiting and now it was time.  Time to sharpen its talons.  Time to sink them deep into her flesh, ensnaring her in its hold.

 

She braced herself for she knew what was coming but still it took her by surprise.  The intensity, the force, the searing pain.  Stumbling, clutching her head she searched for some kind of remedy.  Something that could release its grasp and banish it back to whence it came.

 

The thunder passed overhead and became a low rumble in the distance.  Flashes of lightening noticeably absent as the clouds parted and hope shone through.  She felt the internal shift as each talon slowly retracted and the searing pain was replaced with a dull ache. 

Its Grip Was Strong

It began as it always did, clawing its way up the left side of her face. The familiar trail of pain lengthening as it encircled her eye and settled in for the duration.  Light and sound intensifying with each claw hold, her senses crying out in protest.

Holding her head in her hands she knew and steeled herself for the long haul.  Its grip was strong and tonight was going to be a long night.

Mood Of The Moment - Migraine

The dark clouds, the heavy rain

Brings with it a degree of pain

As the pressure builds inside your head

Almost to the point where you wish yourself dead

Then the clouds pass and the pressure lifts

And you soon find that your mood shifts

From a devil possessed to a human being

As you peel yourself down from off the ceiling

poem by Kathryn Dyche Dechairo