The man sleeping

upon the bus stop bench

blocking your view

of this month’s

burger ad,

paid for by the fast-food joint

around the corner,

is hungry,

and his name is Bert Huggins,

if you cared to know.

Children

of the world,

call me Daddy

because I’ve decided

on becoming a priest,

so, I can finally tell my lies

without anyone questioning me.

Hold onto my every word

as if I am God himself,

and I’ll offer you penance from the pulpit

making you curtsy before me

like obedient sheep.

I am merely a Shephard

controlling his flock,

and your only job is to baa.

Cry your tears at the altar

into the kneeler trough

so, I can later bless

and bathe your babies in it.

Offer me your starving tongues

on Sundays,

then confess your darkest,

most precious secrets

the other SIX.

We are all but sinners,

but I am a God among Men.

If he made me in his image,

then why shouldn’t I be worshipped?

SIX Hail Marys

and a guaranteed seat in heaven

just for me

because I wear this costume

and you don’t.

Forgive me, lord,

for I am the father

who hath sinned

too many times,

trading one black suit

for another,

and I murdered myself

breaking commandment SIX,

but remember

that the filtered city water

waiting for a lever flush

from the confession toilet

already washed away my filth

by the baptism

blessed on me

in your name,

as if it never happened.

Thanks for that.

Amen.

I am but reborn and righteous now,

refreshed and clean,

living tax-free and untouchable,

and now

I AM YOUR GOD.

Out of touch with reality

The thoughts linger of mortality

Dissociated from negative feelings

when all it does is leave it empty

I know it’s not completely abnormal to feel this little

Except the mind plays tricks letting the belief sink in that shes the only one who feels this brittle

Feeling a feeling that has never been felt before

The only logical reason she can think of is maybe she been carrying around the weight that has been ignored

Wondering why all of this is resurfacing to an extreme amount of pain

Knowing feeling any of these feelings will give her nothing to gain

Only to feel more shame

Shes ignored her body for so long

Distractions after distractions and helping others in the mist of their troubles that she no longer feels a sense of belonging

Belonging to herself is the biggest lesson to learn

Asking how to move forward with the broken pieces that stare into the reflection of the present….

No longer feeling like herself

Or serving a sense of value for her own

Even speaking into existence makes her feel too negatively to find a way to cope

She knows herself well enough not to desert her life

She’s just stuck in the cycle of barely getting by

Getting by to get out of bed

take care of herself

Go to work

Then come home and isolate as if the day has been enough

Too tired to carry out plans or life goals

Recently told that she is in the depths of depression

So many talks about finding medication to help it lessen

As stubborn as she is - talk therapy has always been enough

not wanting help from others as she is afraid that she is too broken that anyone will leave her in dust for the sake of it being too rough

So she hid this pain to not appear that she is too much to handle

Only typing on this website she uncovers the depth of fears, worries, sadness and the most agonizing thoughts

Without speaking her words that leave it tangled

Tangled in her throat because of fear

Because there is no stranger on here that leaves her insecure

As she spirals into the dark

The unknown sense of fear

She has a mustard seed of hope that someday she will come back instead of wanting to disappear

I know this is temporary

This darkness too shall pass

Its just this picture she sees is too small to contrast

into something bigger and

brighter

That vision seems so far away to grasp.

She wants to write about something positive for once, but lately all she feels is defeat

Good thing this is only a website that doesn’t care about what is being released.

She wants out. A different destination. A different life plan. A different sense of reality.

The happiness, the wholeness, the love…. The dreams filled in her mind

The only sentence she has lived by is one day at a time.

Now it’s one hour at a time. One minute. And one breath.

Inquiring Visitors

Twilight reined the sky

pale of blue gray pink

outside calm and cool

sensed a couple at the door

the bell may have rung

or even a soft knock

really do not remember

but there you both were

with smiles like sunshine

your skin almost translucent

your bodies lilith like slim

dressed in loose garments

We came to look at the house

She admired my wild freehand

bold wall mural painting

He without unduly criticizing

pointed out a big flaw

Sensing my thoughts

told me how to remedy

without cost to my meager pocket

You both almost floated

through the rooms, smiling

My aged dog lifted her head

from a nap then went back

to sleep with no fear of either

giving you house information

you both leave remembering

your names were not given

walking to the open door to ask

surprised you are both gone

no sign of a vehicle going down

the long drive it was almost

like you disappeared

You both ceased to be seen

Vanish from sight into thin air

© Julia A Knaake

A dream for real.

I received this thought in my mind at five thirty two am. I was in bed dreaming a vivid dream. One can not see the wind but the dreaming mind bends reality.

I remember I was somewhere out on flat land. The wind was blowing fiercely. I was clutching my mossy green windbreaker jacket. With one bold gust of wind my tan wide brimmed hat took off like a flying saucer into that wind. My hair was flying and whipping in the wind looking like it had been in an electrical outlet.

Yelling to someone "Hold me, hold me down." Not wanting to take off up into the air. Lost forever in the sky. Feeling strong arms pull me close holding me tight to them while whispering "You are safe I won't let you go."

I woke up with that wild hair laying in a pile of twisted pillows. My nightgown wrapped around the sheets like twisted seaweed in the ocean waters. I felt so warm and secure. That is a nice safe feeling...A vivid dream not too laughable nor enhanced with hallucinations.

© Julia a Knaake

Awakening

The heart was broken

A soul was stolen

breath was taken away

unknowing love was there

Stifling was introduced

to keep happiness away

hiding lust with awakening

unknowing love was there

then with gentle persuasion

without demanding control

the flower bud emerged

unknowing love was there

the flower awakened

brightly clearly all colors of the rainbow

emerged into brilliant radiance

unknowing love was there

always will be remembered

as the returning soul

the mending of a heart

unknowing love was there

©Julia A Knaake

You Give Me You

Wantin' to give you a big palace

Feelin' to give you a kingdom

Seein' you get as you desire

with unending love you give me

you give me you

you give me you

you give me you

The palace would be way too large

A kingdom is much too hard to rule

Simple happy feelings you give to me

with unending love you give me

you give me you

you give me you

you give me you

My wish is deepest of most kind

I'll protect you and always be there

Giving my heart as you give to me

with unending love you give me

you give me you

you give me you

you give me you

Our wishes have become true

You are my shining lights

making our lives so full

with unending love you give me

you give me you

you give me you

you give me you

© Julia a. Knaake

What hats do you wear

Some folks wear

a beret,

a baseball cap,

winter woo-lie,

a scarf

sometimes a straw hat

but …..

Some wear the Mom or Dad hat

which means you had better teach your

children how to grow up to be self

sufficient and upstanding adults.

this is a long tiring but rewarding job.

Then again some wear the doctor or nurse hat

which can be so wonderful to help save

peoples lives or correct a problem

they have. It is also sad when there

is nothing you can do to help.

Now being a teacher is quite a reward

when you can help shape a young person

with learning materials and your experiences

and lead them in the right direction

to get a good hold on their lives

.

There are police hats,fire hats,political hats,

the clergy hats and many many more ….

but

what are the hats that you really wear

in your everyday lives…

stop and think.

Because if you have a handicapped child

or an elderly parent, relative or good friend

You personally are a forever caretaker,

driver,teacher,money handler,shelter provider,protector,

adviser,food & clothing helper…the list goes on

stop and really think....

You are so wealthy wearing these hats.

What hats do you wear and are you happy wearing those hats

and are you proud of the hats you have worn in your lifetime.

© Julia A Knaake

I'm an absolute music addict so there's no way I can have a singular favourite. Instead, I decided to choose a song from my fav album + singer!!

Brooklyn Baby - Lana Del Rey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5xcnjAG8pE

Lyrics:

[Intro]

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da

[Verse 1]

They say I'm too young to love you

I don't know what I need

They think I don't understand

The freedom land of the seventies

I think I'm too cool to know ya

You say I'm like the ice, I freeze

I'm churning out novels like

Beat poetry on amphetamines

[Pre-Chorus]

I say

I say

[Chorus]

Well, my boyfriend's in a band

He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed

I've got feathers in my hair

I get down to Beat poetry

And my jazz collection's rare

I can play most anything

I'm a Brooklyn baby

I'm a Brooklyn baby

[Post-Chorus]

Da-da-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da-da-ya-da

Pa-da-da-da-da-da-da

[Verse 2]

They say I'm too young to love you

They say I'm too dumb to sing

They judge me like a picture book

By the colors, like they forgot to read

I think we're like fire and water

I think we're like the wind and sea

You're burning up, I'm cooling down

You're up, I'm down

You're blind, I see

[Pre-Chorus]

But I'm free, ooh

I'm free

[Chorus]

Well, my boyfriend's in a band

He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed

I've got feathers in my hair

I get down to Beat poetry

And my jazz collection's rare

I can play most anything

I'm a Brooklyn baby

I'm a Brooklyn baby

[Bridge]

I'm talking 'bout my generation

I'm talking 'bout my newer nation

And if you don't like it, you can beat it

Beat it, baby

You never liked the way I said it

If you don't get it, then forget

'Cause I don't have to fucking explain it

[Chorus]

And my boyfriend's in a band

He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed

I've got feathers in my hair

I get high on hydroponic weed

And my jazz collection's rare

I get down to Beat poetry

I'm a Brooklyn baby

I'm a Brooklyn baby

[Post-Chorus]

Pa-da-pa-pa, pa-de-da

Te-de-de, da-da-ah

Ooh, oh, woah-ah

[Chorus]

Yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool

But he's not as cool as me

'Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby

I'm a Brooklyn baby

[Outro]

Pa-da-da-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da-da, baby

Ah-ta-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da, baby

Pa-da-da-da-da-da

Pa-pa-da-pa-da, yeah

Yeah, yeah

My spotify account:

https://open.spotify.com/user/xu99nvqhuzyh5dfd2ztrdvrei?si=41d44ae4a35f4001

Hello, Writers and Dear Readers.

On the channel today, we feature a tie for first in last week's challenge, and announce Challenge of the Week CCXXIX, which is linked just below this small paragraph, which will technically consist of four lines, because four lines just adds up on this hot and bright summer Thursday. Hope you sexy-minded beasts are keeping cool.

Number 229: https://theprose.com/challenge/14099

Channel link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6baahLzdXPY

And.

As always.

-Thank you for being here.

The Prose. team

I'm made forlorn

By any renovating

Even if the walls were worn

Beyond speaking.

Now I roam the roads

Seeking some destination

But all the crows forebode,

Swooping down to defend their stations.

I'm surged with instinct

After stress recess.

The sense of stinging's

Cross-hatched abroad my breast.

I fell short of reassurance

At my pleas to flee

And escape the burden

Of being where I'm not supposed to be.

The mountain is ours!

We offered slivers and you left scars!

The valley is ours!

You took and took now we can't see the stars.

***

the sun drowns into the horizon

I watch it bleed blood-orange

greedy and gripping to the day

against the gravity of celestial porridge

and banal boundless black

the sky weighs a blanket of stones

it's bruising into rotting blues

yet there is art in the aches

awe in the golden hour views

and ataraxia in the two-past-nines

we marvel at this

beguiling beauty

of bittersweet death