Wingless Freedom 2
Never a day passed
when he wasn’t there
watching the rose
white star birds
grazing in the cloudy air.
Soaring beyond sight
to appear once again.
The Fairy Terns
miracles of nature
this child was their life-long friend.
Over time, he was welcomed
following the pattern they flew.
from sky to sea
and back again
he was immersed in sunlit blue.
When he got married
they attended the rites
dazzling the couple
with flawless ballets
of graceful, inspired flight.
When his first child was born
they celebrated the birth
by directing sunlight
to enfold the infant
endowing its soul with mirth.
When his marriage ended
and his heart was broken
they hovered near him all that day
singing a song
too sad to be spoken.
When his son died in the war
and his soul was beyond healing
they wept rainbow tears
of impassioned color
to reflect what he was feeling.
Then, one day he came
and they weren’t there anymore.
He waited and watched
but they returned not
to the sky nor to the shore.
Afterwards he became depressed
when he knew his dearlings were gone
he felt deep inside
that they no longer loved him
so he made himself move on.
Many years later
after he drove everyone away
the cancer came
his breathing slowed down
his life-force a fading grey.
Slowly his limbs failed him
and he knew the end was near.
So he asked some neighbors
to take him back
to the beach which he held so dear.
They did as he wished
and left him alone.
So, there he remained
from dawn to dusk
till his body became like stone.
As his eyes began to close
he suddenly heard a sound.
Looked up and saw dozens
of Fairy Terns
slowly circling round.
One by one they descended
and covered him with their wings.
They took his pain
upon themselves
like fluttering heavenly kings.
As they flew off again
to the faraway lands
he held the last one gently
and wept
precious jewels into the sand.
The Sunlight was fading
as he let it be.
And when it flew away
He closed his eyes
as his body set his spirit free.
Who Am I When No One is Around?
Voices call
from down the hall.
I’m sure I don’t know them at all.
Yet still my heart is called to days
I locked myself in stalls
and prayed.
Just asking for a simple glance
From boys I didn’t stand
a chance with.
Truth, I feel still like that girl
who knows she’s not
fit for this world.
A voice just said he’d ask her out.
Oh, back in high school I would shout
and call for pity for a heart
too scared, too shy, too sick
to vouch.
For me my heart is much to weak
for leading on, for simple streaks
of best behaviour (still no-good).
No man should love me.
No man should treat
me with kindness without pay.
However, if one chose to stay
I'd be a perfect little girl
with begging eyes,
with spiral curls.
Oh why,
oh why,
must I still cave?
To simple lines.
To re-used phrases.
All those tropes I’ve grown to loathe...
Still deep inside
I’m so alone.
So I will bat my eyes and plead
for any man that will concede
to take me on as burden woe
to work me ’till I have no soul
and will I be so fulfilled then
when ring is placed, when vows are said.
When in a house I’m wast’ing way
and wondering if another way
could have been carved
had I not feared
The life, a woman,
so congealed.
That did not center on a man
I know some do it
I know some can...
I’ve friends that love women as well
and love though daily they face hell.
To Hell I’ll surely go as well
for with a man I’ll never dwell.
A worse thought I could not conjure
when to depths my mind oft wanders...
Lost amid the mazes dark
of hurtful past,
of wounded heart,
of crying soul,
of past begin.
Oh why,
Oh why,
Do I always cry?
My period. It's coming soon?
I have lost track.
I’ll ask the moon.
The moon betrays me, as does all.
When deep I trust,
through shall I fall.
So birthday cakes and bright balloons
I hope will greet me in my room.
A party I’ve planned for myself.
A gift I’ve hidden on the shelf.
Inside, a note whose print reads just
“You need not marry
you’re on the cusp of
greatness dear!
Oh, don’t you see?
You’re close to finding
who you're to be.”
So when the families scream and shout,
and he curses you:
Shut them out!
For a feeling is valid
if it is there.
Though no one sees it.
No one cares.
I care,
like women you don’t know.
For you don’t realize
How far this goes.
There are women held
and women caged
and women trapped in rooms of rage.
Dear, you are not the first to feel
the weight of life that grinds your wheels
and hate that drags you
down,
down,
down.
Its not your burden,
leave that town.
To seek bright lights of cities glow.
The castles pink.
Each bathtub, rose.
Of sweet, kind looks on the metro.
Love, hold their doors and speak their retro-
active regrets.
For you know
a secret kept just grows like mold.
A never ending tow’r of tears
can never lift you,
He won’t hear.
He does,
I should not speak that way
He's not forsaken you that way.
While women fight though life unheard
He’s sent us roadkill, sent us birds.
Each image of a lovely thing
that we don’t get.
We’d never sing
the songs in keys of chickadee.
No we’re not listn’ing
You and me.
But
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A heart does ring!
Is it a friend?
Is it a thing
that’s sold on shelves in hardware stores
or on TV?
Do we need more?
I need not march if I shall die
with no one with my name who’ll cry.
The other women who have died
to let me sit here sit and to lie.
I shall not be a sour girl
Of hateful heart
desires, cruel.
I’ll live more kind.
I’ll live more soft.
I’ll live more loud.
I’ll live more oft.
I’ll be a woman who can say:
"Voices, who cares
what you say."
Love’s Death
Choice of words
Choice so obscure
Obscure mind
Obscure line
Line of sight
Line the sky
Sky that fell
Sky of poems
Poems for you
Poems that bled
Bled from soul
Bled for time
Time and laughter
Time well-spent
Spent so freely
Spent with you
You now busy
You now gone
Gone from me
Gone for good
Good things end
Good things die
Die like stars
Die so dark
Dark with despair
Dark falls over
Over my love
Over my spell
Spell is broken
Spell went wrong
Wrong was financed
Wrong plus tax
Tax my patience
Tax my effort
Effort so earnest
Effort was wasted
Wasted rough drafts
Wasted tears
Tears that choke
Tears that stain
Stain the memory
Stain the sheets
Sheets can strangle
Sheets that cover
Cover with soil
Cover a grave
Grave of love
Grave that's haunted
Haunted
Love
The Farewell
And if only
I find her
on my last day on earth -
at the train station
before her train disappears
into the fog.
That's how I'll find her!
I'm waiting for you,
my heart.
Through all time and
all lives -
all worlds.
Only you exist.
You will recognize me by
my love -
you will find yourself
in my love -
look into my eyes, NOW!
Now go my heart.
I love
you.
Stronger than Death
Once belonged together,
changed my soul forever,
against us was time,
only left me this rhyme.
You wrote me letter after letter,
some from tears were wet,
became part of me, the better,
all my years I kept.
Your picture,
in me,
forever,
you,
I always,
will
remember.
Read your lines of letter,
again and again,
felt like being together,
again and
again,
could hear your voice
when I laugh,
and feel your choice is my
path.
Felt many lives pass,
since I met you,
bear many earths mass,
until I get you.
When grown
old,
the beloved ones passed,
your letters I
hold,
your thought be my
last.
Through letters,
through time,
to a place exist,
will wait,
in mind,
until death resist.
The longing for youth,
it comes with a cost,
not seeking the age,
it is the person we lost.
Cruelty of life,
isn’t it
so,
everyone you love,
you have to let
go.
Our love,
older than time,
you
are,
always mine.
Our love,
wider than space,
in it
engraved,
is your grace.
If reborn,
hereby sworn,
at lifes toll,
will find your soul.
In my paintings,
live forever,
every color shining,
you to remember.
In my poems,
the reason words rhyme,
will torment language,
YOU,
in every syllable
to bind.
The Shade Within Me
There's a twisted mind inside my head,
That daily I find that I shall dread.
He speaks whispers of the truth,
Along with opinions so uncouth.
Perhaps along with cynic eyes,
He sees the world as its own demise.
A hellscape avenue atop the world.
He runs along the walls so steep
In a dreamscape while I sleep,
Where the laws of physics know no meaning.
There you can see the towers tall,
The bogs so dim and crazy calls,
About how the end is only the beginning.
During the day, the sun's always eclipsed,
The night is dominated by a twist
Of fate and logic so entwined,
They may as well be the dragon's eyes.
I suppose that I should get on with it.
I don't suppose the world' see fit,
That this shade should make his slip.
As his insanity is one I know well.
He dreams of some kinda forgotten hell
When he's not running along the streets
Of some unnamed massive city
That seems quite scary and never silly.
Save for the fact there's massive sleds
Upon rails where oil sheds.
And people ride them from place to place.
A bullet train that's g-force safe,
Serving sushi upon slate
And ramen that seems to never end.
I suppose this dreamscape sounds quite nice,
And perhaps you won't take my advice,
But frankly, that Shade is but a devil.
He's more dark than outer space,
He's got a twisted demeaning face,
He worships gods beneath the sun,
And during the moon he comes undone.
He's a third month in to insanity courses,
Perhaps more gifted than his discourse sells.
But in the end he's got it made,
He has but to ask for marmalade.
But like this world, there's a darker side.
Oh, leaders oh so chaotic,
Madness in the streets so sick,
Control at every single side,
And madness in every person's eye.
A way to run and a way to hide,
Is always scarce unless you have a ride.
But even then, it may not work.
We'll I've talked your ear off for too long,
I've got to go care for this dog of mine.
But maybe one day I'll actually sing you a song.
So whatever you do, make sure your lights always shine.
Leftovers
Spread the banquet
in the darkened hall
and save a seat,
surely I'll be there
sometime maybe
even just
next week
give me
a moment,
to let it all sink
in,
at the vestibule
where the skins
change, aged,
by miracle,
inside, I mean
before the dishes
are categorically
due, again
for scrubbing...
I'll paint the picture
of how the gravy
engraves the edge
of the plate
like a print
escaping the scrape
of the last utensil
in a repas
that was meant
to satiate
the commission
of a familiar portrait
left, unfinished
in pressing
the thing we
most miss, on
riding the camel
of wayward abyss
into undefined
Western set oasis...
and looking back
gilded, we'll God bless,
the garbage disposal
in the drain..!
as we're moving
along
the piped dream
finding that
somehow
the dispenser jaws trap
the tarnished locks
always threatening
with an emergency call
at the plumber's office:
"what's that..!?
a major clog?!,
or minor leak?"
and among the
gray snake coils and foil
they already know
all about it
down the street,
the way
memory fades
with each Macy's
TV parade,
which
if anyone asks
was turned on
(exclusively)
for the Children's sake!
and like with pie...
there's always room
for you out there
after the decimal
for one more
random figure
to pull up and sit
in the cool foyer;
but it's no rumor
the family's getting
bigger,
even as its members
retreat in count
on comfortable
ulteriors,
the porch creaks
with the ghosts
of passing feet
that mark in time
the distance and heat
the ruler, and the rule
failed to keep
where we all
took measure
of the stock,
and the broth
that was made
long, back when...
in a steam
of our bouillon cube,
all was vacuum packed
and carefully wrapped,
from bones picked-clean
2 million odd years ago...
04.06.2024
MPC for April "till we're done" challenge @Prose
Somewhere, Someone Says it’s Ok
The truth comes
once you don't give
a fuck anymore
That's when shit
gets real
But what you have to
go through
to get to that place
how many times
can you break
your own heart
after its already
been ravaged
and nothing left behind
to be mended...
'Cuz there's some things
that just can't be fixed.
And I battle myself
almost every waking hour
Raising up demons
of my self-creation
It's a pitiful attempt of a war,
my heart's not really into it
but there I am
creating myself
and
destroying myself
over and over and
over
again.
Now I'm just tired
and I don't give a fuck
I already know I can't win,
'cuz there's no such thing
as sin
but I continue my struggle
again
'cuz if there's no hell
full of devils
collecting my payments
for their den,
how will I ever get to heaven,
a heaven you might
live in.
A heaven that won't exist
unless there's an Evil
to excuse me for my sins.
Resurrection
“Mom, where are you?”
“Home, sweetie.”
“Lock the doors and windows. I'm coming right over.”
“What's going on?”
“It's all over social media. People are jumping out of caskets, kicking their way out of refrigerated drawers and in a few cases people have found a way to claw their way out of recent graves.”
“Stop. Social media? C'mon sweetheart. It must be some sort of deep fake or movie advertisement.”
“Just do it, Mom. Please. Don't open the door for anyone but me.”
“You're worrying me, honey. Hold on, someone's ringing the bell."
“Mom, don't!”
“Hey! Just a...! Ohwhuuuuuugh”
“Mom!!”