Shaving like I mean it.

Shaving like I mean it.
Shaving with Meaning

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

You could be

You could be jaded
You could be ready to walk away
You could be gone
You could be mad
You could be done
You could be crazy
You could be out of touch
You could be left out
You could be

- Melanie Davis December 15th, 2015

Thursday, November 5, 2015

The 'Hidden Truth' Mental Health Professionals Don't Always Prepare You For

Excellent and pointed.

Recovery from mental health problems are steeped in finding new ways and they are certainly not easy.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

There are people so heartless out there that to think of their fellow beings would take them having to have someone implant a heart in them in order for them to change. What is it that makes someone give their heart to something that does no good? What makes a person apathetic? What causes such malady? How their eyes must be plucked out to not see the plight of others around them? What bubbles of contentment must you pretend to be in to not feel for another? Like nerve endings loose and open I feel for the beings that suffer from the treatment of others, it has me raw, saddened, angry and my most basic instincts come out to either run or fight to scratch, bite or kick or catch the wind and fly. That is what those suffering feel every day, because when you are oppressed you are in fear to the most primal fear of your life. So many wonder why people self medicate with drugs, alcohol and other things and it is because their feet are bound, they cannot fly, they have nothing to bite, kick or scratch at.

The ache of my heart, mind and soul cannot be mine alone to feel it. Surely not am I alone? I could say well I must protect what is mine but there are times my friends when I stand outside pressed into the ground with my feet feeling grass that I could lift up to see with the eyesight of brother hawks the very tendril of apathy and evil greed and I would like to snap it up in a claw to rip it into the million shreds and all those shreds flown to the very sun to incinerate it. My goodness there is no thing in this world so terribly awful as not wanting to help another. The very idea makes me ill. I know no other way. The only beings on this planet that have an excuse to be blind and deaf are the ones born that way. Common sense tells me there are many people who feel but have no idea there are others who seek to help too. To be clear I know they are there because I feel them (you) too.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Pirouette my lovely muse
Turn about for me
On this axis
Mountain top
You were blind but now I am
Give to me another pose
But spin for all to see
The music that is burning
Your life I have to choose
The pit 'to which I fling you
In all your beauty goes
I feel for you sweet muse
Your life is not your own
Such illusion granted 
To keep you on your toes
None is real none is real
Declares your mouth 
Declares your hands
Declares your ears
Declares your eyes
Declares your nose
Declares your soul
Tragedy reveals to you 
The image that you sought
Timeless knells of bells and visions that you wrought
Heavens upwards and surface fractures below
The carried weight of muses that spin on and on
 Upon the tip of a needle
It is all for naught
My hat's off to you and perhaps a sock also
Keep spinning lovely pirouette
Be the wanted and beguiled
Be the frail and be the wild
burden that you bear
Which is why I turn the key

- Melanie Davis July 29th 2015


Ballet dancer. Harry M. Rhoads, photographer. Harry M. Rhoads Photograph Collection, Western History/Genealogy Department, Denver Public Library, Library of Congress.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

For the love of the heavens
Your bodies they entrance me
Reveling in your reflection back to me
Waiting to be washed in silvery light
But only in small amounts flickering
From the distance that I cannot count
Be your many and varied kind
I wish upon you my hopes and dreams for a better tomorrow
I sleep all the better at night watching the heavens 'til my eyes drop closed
With visions of you shining in my mind...

Melanie Davis - 6/11/2015
Art by William Shackleton, The Polar Star, 1920

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Upon the precipice I walk
The narrow edge presses my feet
Each step a painful reminder
To my tentative stride
The edge forces me to balance
So that I do not fall 
For the fall and landing
 I do not desire a hesitant course
With every moment breathed
This walk is not new
Experience tells me where I am in it
This circuitous journey
Entering cycles
breaking some 
And remaining in some I cannot break 
Allowing myself to walk forward 
without the hesitant step that holds back the next one   
  No a balance must be struck 
 Where I walk without arms spread wide
When I place my foot upon the edge and though pain might be part
So too is satisfaction
 That is equally part pleasure for walking at all
Melanie Davis 4 / 7 / 2015