Phil Gennuso Arts ancient volcanomolten temple of creationuntamed vast unbrokenfriend and foe for all time ********************************* This post is a page from my new Ebook, SCRAPBOOK DREAMS, available either from me directly or from my Etsy site: https://www.etsy.com/shop/PhilGennusoArts

Vesuvius (#Quatrain #ThursdayMyths #GraphicArts) — Phil G’s Blog/Website

I don’t really understand haiku which is why I never usually review them. I like them, but I am embarrassed by talking about things that I can’t really do myself. You are the first one that I connected with enough to look at this way, because I loved this piece. Thank you for it, and for bringing me out of myself enough to look at the haiku as an art form.

hai·ku
noun

a Japanese poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, traditionally evoking images of the natural world.
a poem in English written in the form of a haiku.

dictionary.com

With this in mind…

“ancient volcano”

Phil Gennuso

I like how you start the poem with this line, because for me I am attaching this line to the use of the haiku as a style itself, molten, terrifying, ancient technique, standing in front of me in your work which pays homage to a style of writing… I have been to arrogant to be employ.

I like this the use of the following line

“molten temple of creation”

Phil Gennuso

Because it is showing me why the haiku is usual for people who can use this meditative style to write. It suggests that writers using this style are doing something different. They use a “temple of creation” being haiku itself to meditative on universal human concepts like nature.

“untamed vast unbroken”

Phil Gennuso

I like how you follow it with this line, it made me feel more comfortable after having to deal with the concepts in the first, because like I said, being told what to do scares me, and I think it was comforting to show that you can be untamed, and unbroken while also exploring vast mysteries.

The following line

“friend and foe for all time”

“friend and foe for all time”

Phil Gennuso

I think this speaks about human arrogance, but not sure if that was your intention. I might be, like always being arrogant and placing myself into my reading of this.

Thank you for sharing this, I hope I didn’t decimate what your intention was when dissecting it.

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Explanation: I saw a bunch on the work on your page, and you inspired me. I have been struggling over the past couple days with thoughts of suicide. Your work on your site, helped me keep going, thank you for being one of the ones responsible for saving my life, yesterday.

Your BooknVolume https://booknvolume.com/ speaks volumes to me, in the words you cast to this dark screen, in them… kindness reflects off and gives peace,

I see your reaction and see what I lack, when I am drawn to lament and to attack, everything you say on your page,

A medication for my meditations on making self pay over and over to bend over in rage.

Through your help I see misspell enrage.

You are more wise than me, you see.

I can’t see anything clearly.

Thank you for bringing this to light for me.

You have brought me peace, for the second and for that and the light through which beckons

on me a little grace,

I am so glad you helped me

by replacing erase with a picture that

Helps me stop hating my damn face.

and taking me out of this…

I am learning that my strongest failure was resistance, a frantic running against the tide of the ocean, frantic drowning, instead of flowing with the tide and riding waves peacefully to shore, it’s funny, I am a good swimmer, I am not good at drowning.. I know this because I em.. have tried, and found myself so enthralled by the ocean, that I forgot I was trying to drown. This is an excellent way of explaining through poetic metaphor how it feels to be me now. I started reaching out to people around me, anyone I could really, desperate for distraction from a world that I already was not around anyway. I was enthralled by frantic fantasy off screaming into nothing, thinking myself so free, because in my delusional habit based state, I failed to see that I was being nothing more than a habitual sleepwalker. I have been asleep walker most of my life, thinking the world was so awful that I thought I found it preferable to exist in some sort of extended across the universe dilated dream state of chaotic extension. I figured out recently that this was causing a fragmentation of my brain, that was breaking me.

I have lost pieces of myself in this process, but I owe it to the universe, and its genius ability to have a will stronger than the will of the psychotic night crier of the dying man of madness, for having a plan in mind that was stronger than anything that I could push against it.

I have gained all this insight through nothing of my own power, but through simply this, I told the powers higher than me, speak through me, my hands are yours. Tell them what they need to hear, or whatever you want me to say. I am a tool of mercy. I hope I find others who will do the same, I find more and more of them every day.

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2023/03/15/three-things-challenge-m268/

My life does not have the luxury of being private, it has been dominated by screaming into dark night, a chaos flight on the wings of a dragon, pivoting around the eye of chaos by a pilot that flies dragons, in a plane of thought not a plane. In other words you are reading the adventure of a person who ventures through worlds of thought not worlds in this reality, although these worlds do combine. They are more combined now then ever. I have ventured through Hell or Misery and back, slaying dragons, or I mean riding or chasing them. I do not chase them anymore, my vain in vein efforts have left me too charred by the embers of injected Misery.

I was the pilot of a dragon, or of a body that was full of the blood of a dragon for most of my life, pivoting around the drain, a tragic dance that I did for 15 years of my life and lived to tell about it, because something saved me, and I owe my life to that something, whatever it is. It allowed me to live, because I think it wants me to tell this story, and share what I learned, being poised to find poison and poison one’s own blood, is something I will no longer do, I have seen too much death, and want only life now. I am done pivoting around the drain. I am now in the process of rebuilding my life so it can be more private, instead of being dominated by the psycho screaming of a chaotic night crier.

There are those of us that are different, gifted with ability of rapid sight that scan through rooms, noticing everything at once, we are the known as the paranoid and delusional to those who do not understand what we are doing, when lucid, we are scanning, filling everything that is ordinary, rapidly, because in our paranoid madness, this is an essential survival tool, learning at rapid speed, what to avoid to avoid, the chaotic stripping our minds every time we have a mental breakdown.

I am in a store, and now with sobriety, I have the ability to see everything clearly with the calmness of mindful meditation, this is a super power, which is exhilarating in a way that being high never was, because I am experiencing life at rapid speed, far different from the chaotic drain circling of my madness before, this is a roller coaster through life where everything is bursting with vibrant color, coming to life all at once, and I can hear and see everything simultaneously. I am never getting high again. This is the most high I have ever felt in my life, I see everything all at once, but also individually, and I realize now how much I was causing my own pain before, how deeply I was damaging my mind.

I am free, unshackled, and it is amazing.

Thank you, to all that is higher than I ever will be, the earth, the air the stars, the life in everything all around me breathing with me all at once, you are my highest power, the force of life that pounds in my chest, I do not know why I was so blind before, but now I see clearly.

https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt-1841

“From Me”

I can’t even see, I am so exhausted from making myself cry, clawing and scratching, and scrapping, and ripping and tearing at my own eyes, fighting to make it impossible to use them, so I can never see this again, myself through someone else, who ripped me so far away from myself, I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I am a cat who cannot see the cat in the mirror is them. I jump at the mirror, slamming with full impact into the glass, a marriage of breaking, a marriage of crashing, a marriage of skin meet sharp object, so very much like my tragic love affair with things heroic, but not, because they hide in human skin, and only bring death and pain and loss and women who used me like a severing knife, and then turned the knife on me.

I have become her outer monologue manifest in my mind, manifesting in man of festering infected soul. I am so stupid, I am doing this to myself, and I can’t bring myself to stop doing it because that means I am alone, and I don’t know if it is worse to talk to demonic ghosts or be alone.

I say I am never touching you again, and I am being childish, but you don’t want to know what I meant, and it was nothing against you.

I was in love with you, and I know my hands are dirty because they always are, not physically but metaphorically, that is why they are usually cracked and bleeding and prone to infection, aside from old habits done with fire and shot in vain.

You told me you knew how to help me, I told you I didn’t need your help, and you said I was being selfish, so I let you unpack the suitcase of dirty laundry that is my aching bleeding cut, open wound of a soul, and you donated them all to charity and bought me new clothes, I am not going to wear your new clothes, I am a human being with feelings, and bad as I am, I am still a human being with feelings, and if you hated me so much…. I am starting to be glad you are no longer around, because I would rather be lonely the rest of my life, then ever have to fight with someone while high on my own supply with you who contributed nothing but criticism, when I kept trying to get clean and sober.

Here, you would say, giving me some of yours, which I didn’t know you had, when you were going line for line shot for shot with me, on money bought with gambling that no one figures me out.

I am so tired of thinking of you.

It is dark outside and I am looking at the water, and it is cloudy, so there is very little light, so I can look at the water without seeing my **** face. I hate my face. I hate everything about it, enough to cut it off. Which explains a lot of my injuries…

You told me I was crazy, delusional psychopath, trying to remove me from myself, telling me I was a psycho delusion, that I was not real. I was Amanda’s delusion, telling me to go away, that you wanted to speak to her, well sorry, she is not real, I am.

I am not her, she was a front, a silly sing song mocking bird, painted on like a mask you tattoo on your face with a dirty needles, infectious disease of resent a tattoo scar, of a human being.

Do I know serenity? Not yet, I have not met her or it, or seen it, or felt it, I am consumed on and off by lack, a cutting out of my existence that is still so deep it penetrates my whole body with memory of every time I paid for misery and got misery.

I loved your company, Rei.

We loved your company.

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

Is that breaking the rules? I am adding feet because honestly, I walked from Oregon to California with my friend Chris. It was Southern Oregon and we walked to Northern Cali. I started my journey elsewhere and got all the way across the country and for anonymity so my ex doesn’t mess with me, I am just going to say somewhere north to west, buses- mostly grey hounds, hitching rides, walking, trains, and then a plane ride home and he/she is still in Misery. I am so glad to not be there, anymore.

I never thought I would make it back home. I walked to Cali with my friend Chris the Christian. He was very nice and peaceful and sang to me about God the whole way, and then I got annoyed because he started to say he was falling in love with me, and I walked 150 miles myself, alone on the highway while praying.

This is what proved to me that something was protecting me, because whatever it was, it guided back to my family and I literally walked alone at night on the highway and something got me back home. Thank you to my higher power. That is the only thing that makes sense, I should be dead but something saved me.

I am Swiss cheese…..

Except I am not Swiss, and not cheese…

Just a real person… or

Human soul

Full of metaphysical holes in my

Self or the idea of everything I am.

I dug them myself because she told me she would help me, and I am stupid and gullible and believed her/him when he/she told me she loved me. I don’t know why that gives her/him the right to put holes in me.. okay? I don’t even know what love is, and no one had ever told me they loved me, not like that… so I listened to everything he/she said…. I would have jumped off a….Not really…. I would have done almost anything they asked me to, even if it hurt me, and he/she used that to make me do whatever they wanted on a mission for drugs,

And it was so obvious to everyone except me, even those who hated me, would tell me

You realize you are just her source right?

I was just her source of elation and she was everything to me.

I want to….

I could cry, if I wasn’t so numb because my soul hurts.

Please God, can I find something real, please God, please God,,, I don’t want to be alone…I am so sorry for everything I did.. please don’t…. I don’t want to be alone anymore…

Writing that really helped me. The last part, which means prayer just helped me. Thank you to my higher power, I am not crying anymore, numb. sad. but stopped crying.

I am beginning to feel better, hands that perpetually around my own neck, ringing it, and choking without realizing that I can just let go. I am so tired, exhausted from the chaotic pacing in the middle of the night, to find a safe place. I am reminded of my friend from California, and a night we spent huddled together under his jacket, crying while smoking to stay awake, we wanted to sleep so bad, our eyes heavy with the act of finding safety, away from the burning abandoned building were fires were started and blamed on drug addicts who fell asleep with fires started. No one knows the truth, there is something or someone out here, and it is hunting us, and I am afraid all the time, so I spread a rumor that I am dangerous, hiding behind perceptions of people like me, it keeps people away enough that I can survive.

I am prone to foxhole prayers, praying to anything that will listen, saying over and over, please help me, if you help me I am done… but I am not done, because I can’t rest, because it is not safe, because they come while you sleep. I don’t know who they are, I just know people I know are disappearing and they keep pointing fingers at us, and it is not true, we love each other, and are so afraid, and would do anything to sleep. I am so tired.

I used to run in the mornings, when I was healthy, not addicted, and freer than I ever knew, before I had severed the ties that bound me to my fellow man. I did not realize this severance was sign of weakness, instead of strength.

I am prone to shouting at the universe, to chaotic crying out, in desperation to leave me alone, so because I actually get what I ask for, I am alone a lot.I asked for it, and the universe delivered, and I have a fit over the delivery, because that makes sense right? A package ordered by a drunk/high lunatic, high on resentment this time, way less fun.

I am learning how much peace I had when I went jogging, not running or escaping, and I am reminded of a time in California where I was trying to escape a um… bad deal..

I was trying to pretend to jog… and realized I had forgotten what that even looks like.. caught up in my chaos, I forgot how to run for fun… so I couldn’t even fake it..

Terrifying really…

I used to think myself, so free, but now I realize… I was just chained to different things..

I am trying to get back to that a mental fitness of jogging not running.

I began training my dog to help me with a personal mission. I wanted to hunt wild boar. It was not just for me, but for her so she would stop chewing on my leg and her leg, because I was paranoid she wanted to eat mine, so I thought maybe she could eat a wild boar’s leg instead.

When I am lucid, I know that she never had any intention, of chewing off anyone’s leg,

Not mine, not a wild boar, not hers

I just thought of this because I am

INSANE

I have a functional brain that works most of the time, but sometimes

IT DOESN’T

And there is no fear in me to admit

WEAKNESS

Anymore, because I have realized that the

WEAKNESS

I had was in my failure to admit things, not in admitting them or making them into other things, in creative metaphor to slay like metaphorical dragons, I was just experiencing

FEAR

And I am no longer

AFRAID

Or have to roll around in

AGONY

Because I cast out these metaphorical demons on a black screen.

I am your admission that your guilt is real,

I am your recognition that your dragons represent guilt erected into a false sense of pride and shame blame that explains why you

FAILED

But I am also your strength in admitting this and

Casting it out.

I am an inner demon, I am a deep seeded hatred, I am a future projection,

I am what you feel, I am who you are, I am who you are in the process of seeing

I am you. I am fighting you

To be real

Because you are an addict addicted to the things that make me

UNREAL

Making you unreal with a desire to un-feel.

I forget sometimes, that I have glasses, getting up in the middle of the night and crashing into walls because I did not put them on. I walk without them frequently and cannot see clearly, because I have gone without them before, for years when in active addiction.

The eyes of others, guide me, but I am paranoid, debating internally with universe, I question intention constantly, seeing things they don’t and debating with myself what is real while they are just walking down a street undisturbed, knowing none of what I am doing in my mind, while they walk peacefully next to me.

I clean my lenses, real glasses not metaphoric often, caught in an OCD futility of see clearly, forgetting that I see things others do not, and I am left to wonder, am I noticing things that matter or do they only matter to me?

What activities do you lose yourself in?

I am standing on a street corner, this time metaphoric, not real.

I am looking into nothing, or myself, whichever one you choose, overcome

By voices, this time internal, not external, not externalized, not demons with painted on despise eyes, not lies or falsehoods, but inner truths, painted because I am listening to me and to you. I am listening closely, with intention to hear, because I have spent a long time, not doing so, with desire to unfeel.

I am wondering what it means, what I do, now that I am focused and listening to you. I am wondering if there is anything, anything at all to any of this for a personal who notices it all. I do not know where I fit in, if I do at all.

I am standing in the middle of also on the side. Existing in the middle, because before I did not have the time, I did not make a choice to listen before, to me, and to you, and am wondering simply in this place, where I stand, what am I to do?

I am told over and over, just watch and to be quiet, but I am confounded with the presence of a mind that exists in riot. I am not trying to assert myself, not this time, but simply to understand, what is the place for my dark mind?

I am not sure sometimes, if I am being guided by the hands of the universe not individually as some lunatic with some mission of importance, but simply some wind-watcher, air listener, tragic tour guide of no one, standing outside in the middle of the night debating shadows that cast on the walls of the houses of the towns I walk through, or right now live in.

I am awoken, by the fighting of very literal cats outside my window, and my mother’s dog is yelled for by my stepfather, he can’t find her, she woke up and he took her to the bathroom and she took off and I can hear outside my window, so I wake up, even though he is focused on something else, I tell him, what is happening and it helped him understand her, and helped him find her.

I wonder how many times before, was I too high or drunk to even hear the cats fighting, and what this all means.

Is there some value to my lunacy, that helps the universe in any way?

But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning around

“Fool on the Hill” The Beatles

I have been sitting alone in the park during the day, watching people.

They talk to each other about their lives and relay stories of their adventures, talk about their achievements, talk about their fears, their hopes, their dreams, asking each other for opinions on what they should do, and learning from each other in the conversations they share in the moments I catch them talking to each other.

I do not always see the same people, they are all different, but I sit on the same bench in the same spot every day, so sometimes I catch the dialogues of people I remember, their episodic lives play out in front of me, a silent observer of the human drama, I am divorced from, without ever being brave enough to marry it.

I caught someone watching me today, watching me watching them, and I wonder why they were watching me. What was I doing other than watching others? Was it that I was watching others that interested them? Were they watching me watch others? And where does this end? Was someone watching both of us watching others?

The universe paints in color, mostly, but there are beings in black and white, shadow people who do not get the colors of reflected light

Colored beings dance throughout the world, reflecting light on shadow men, who do not participate just observe and defend something that I do not know yet, I am not sure, think I forget… and I have been wondering lately what I forgot, sitting and thinking about what remains to be sought.

I am thinking so, and sitting alone, as I do because I know that I am a shadow of the people I can see, I see them, they can’t see me. I am a shadow of their reflections of light. I am not real, just a lack of light.

I hear a sound from behind and turn around, it is not a light beaming but the sound of down.

I am taken back, but I am not scared, some how it feels like I always knew this was there, speaking to me in shades I get, anger, pain and deep regret

I look to it, and it sees me, makes eye contact and warns me, do not be like me, please.

What do you mean? I say, and then it simply walks away.