Doubt

Some disagree, but doubt is anything but honest.
Honesty is kind, with soft feathers and
shear hands.
Doubt is a bone twister,
a body gripper that bounds muscles.
Honesty is a graceful night moon pouring
star flavored wine
over sense and vision.
I sip it.
I soak it through my layers, letting
it moisturize my dry husk.

Doubt is a dry fighter, black robed,
fist packed. It tugs. It pulls
ideas and shoves misgivings.
Doubt is a thundering cloud,
pounding immediacy under
stagnation.

We don’t move.
We don’t know movement in doubt.
We struggle to stand. We are children, wary
of ground.
We make cliffs out of green hillsides,
yellow, wispy flowers become the attackers.

We are the attacked.

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23 thoughts on “Doubt

  1. This is excellent, how you make the comparisons between dark and light in a new way. I love the inventiveness of all of your poetry…It is this uniqueness that makes your words light up the room…Congratulations on another excellent spill…

  2. Can you stop my heart from breaking tonight, All my thoughts center on damages done, hurts perpatrated, words ringing untrue, violent, ugly words spoken in anger, to stop the cycle of doubt, of beating ones self to pieces, of tearing out your very eyes to stop them from seeing the hurt I spread, slowly sinking into despair, devestation and remorse. when and where do i get off this train.

  3. Of course, I feel compelled to comment, the reason is obvious. The poem did indeed grip me, even reading it on my phone the first time, and each time I have read it. That paralyzing fear of ‘what if I am wrong’ IS bone-gripping…

    (Although I will say as one who has learned to live with Doubt that I appreciate its other side: the questioning, the curiousity, the need to know! )

    Thank you for the pleasure of your words.

  4. Doubt may also be an engaging invitation to the soul, an enticement to the intellect to explore further than what the eye of the heart only immediately sees ~ that is, the hopeful promise that there is something more hiding behind the veil of soft feathers, something the light of moon, however selene, has not and cannot reveal. Doubt may be life-saving motivation into the necessary and often-times painful journey that leads us to the peace-filled valley of honesty, which proves so very soul-satisfying.

  5. They were intimate every day. The only time she asked for space was when she was out of her house or during her menstrual cycle. She found it odd that he would ask her about being pregnant because just recently she dreamt twice within a week span that she was breast feeding an infant boy.. She did not think that was possible because the energy mixing that she felt is sort of electric pulsing through her body when she did orgasm.

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