Author: Candid Corvid Productions

- Creative Creations for Clever Minds! -
Stream of Thought

Physicality

Candid Corvid Productions

I am beginning to wonder how much my physical injuries have always affected the confidence of my nature, causing me to be cautious.

Since I was born, I have been injured.

Pulled out backwards too hard and then not too long after, sent head-first into brake pedals.

These two incidents alone would set a mark on a child’s development.

Then, later ensuing invasions of mind, body, heart, and spirit before the age of ten…

No wonder it has felt like I have been in a war-torn nightmare version of life’s mimicry.

No wonder I have reached out to help others with potential who have been on the brink of falling, because I understand the pressures that work upon a person’s soul.

And it is difficult for me to have to curb this instinct for advocating.

Coiled into myself while sitting with legs propped for a moment before I extend limbs and will to shampoo three vehicles against limitations and warnimg twinges of my latest injuries, I cynically laugh at the dream I woke from this morning.

I had been coordinating with other healers to have a center with therapy rooms attached so that when I could resume, I would no longer feel so alone in providing.

The people I had asked had agreed about the desire to feel connected, yet as the dream faded, I realized that the way things are going, my return to that line of work is not possible within this next year’s planning.

Spoken Word

Decompression (Spoken Word)

Candid Corvid Productions

November 22, 2023
By Athena Stairs

I’m usually never on time someplace; always running a few minutes late.

And if I’m early – check my temperature.

Something’s wrong with me for that day.

You know…

The concept of being on time is a bit laughable to me as we humans insisting upon societal interactive complexity outside the norms of compassion, and despite the variance and variations that can happen on any give day – for us to expect people to show up precisely at one time is baffling to me.

I mean, I get it.

If we don’t, how will we get things done in a timely, ordered fashion?

But, my life has never really supported me in this capacity.

Because really, we are the ones who determine whether or not we show up anywhere at a certain time – or so it would seem.

But, when you’re taking on other people’s needs and they’re more like a cat, or like wolves – which are more like cats and “otherlings” – other than you know a dog, like a Labrador Retriever that you can train to ultimate, responsive obedience…

When you are dealing with other beings that are highly independent – especially if that’s the climate you are cultivating in your family system (sigh) – being the one and only person with appreciation for order and progression is like managing just supreme anarchy.

And it’s not like it’s the same anarchy.

You’ve got what the cats are doing; you’ve got what the dogs are doing; you’ve got what the kids are doing; you’ve got what the husband with the disability is feeling – generally, overall, resistant to anything not of his own free thinking…

(laughter)

That’s my ex – kudos, shout out to you for your massively well-developed sense of self independence!

We can just edit that right out – but you know, you gotta admire it.

But as far as functionality and (laughter) cooperation – eh, most of that has fallen to me.

And as I’ve gotten worn down from being the one doing the constant labor; doing the constant reconfiguring as things fall apart…

You know, no one really bringing up the hide end/hind end or helping me pick up things as they’re falling…

Being the one visionary while holding the torch, and slashing and cutting at all things dark that have been attacking…

You know…I just really can’t afford to care as much as I do (clearly, in my mind) about being somewhere on time.

You know – especially when I’m injured.

I’m carrying around a world of pain; my brain is foggy and fragmenting, thinking about this or that thing that I’m trying to keep going; and in my preparing to leave the house, even, much of that isn’t even about me!

It’s about making sure that everything at home is managed so that when I leave, there’s a chance that things won’t fall apart at the seams.

So that by the time that I get to me – scrambling to make sure that I’ve got some kind of food; did I take my vitamins and pain medication…

What clothes do I even have out of the few, meager pickings?

Which one am I going to wear today that will be most efficient and cover all potentialities?

It’s exhausting!

And I need to catch up on my sleep, which does not come easy.

Alex (An Ideal)

Dear Alex,

Candid Corvid Productions

This uncertainty we play the odds against
In acquiring some match – yet still denied

Freedom of Choice, it becomes not truly such
When we are compromising truth’s methods

When we work the limitations into our favor
Yet find despite gains, the mark still missing

It was written in script I would reconsider
Because I was forced to forfeit conclusion

It’s my nature to fight for light over the dark –
This part of duty: carrying torch of a Paladin

And you have surrounded your soul’s heart
So that no other wisdom may trespass entry

We are both warriors and groundbreakers –
Will we be satisfied with less-than capability?

I do not want this distant hiding of true self –
So do I cut ties to embrace isolation of spirit?

You seem already committed – and why not?
Your fairy tale keeps building in momentum

Creating castles in the sky by your theurgy:
Application expands to formulate anything!

Whereas, I’ve required a key to unlock my
Heart’s ability to gain in greater potential…

Mayhap we are both love’s fools, afterall
Yet, you’ll be more satisfied by outcome.

Hyde's Bride, Poetic Musings

In A Wisp Of Memory

Candid Corvid Productions

There must have been a time…

Back when the summer-melted heat burned away scourge.

And the fruiting flowers boughed upon willowing trees – soon to be heavy-pregnant with juice-dripping peaches.

When the air was scorched clean and green grass smelled green.

I remember, down by the pond where mud from sassy duck, cootie, and swanling feet squitched between toes freed to breathe.

I remember, briefly, being wild and free.

Healthy.

Me.