I Killed A Child
The deepest secret
that I never told
was that I killed a child
when I was thirteen.
She was bright
and dreamed
of space travel
and of inventing fantastic machines.
I yanked her from
her fluffy bed,
dragged her to the living room,
turned on the TV.
I stabbed her eyes
with a steely knife
formed of
pictures
of sand dunes and
of tanks exploding.
And I whimpered to her
as darkness
replaced the life that bled from her:
"That is where your daddy is"
I took a gun
and shot her ears
with the cries
of starved children
and the shrieks of vultures
ready to devour.
And I screamed at her
through salty tears:
"It's too late for you to save them!"
Her knees wobbled
somehow still alive
on life support
from the small light of hope
that drove her youthful soul.
And so I mustered
the shred of strength -or fear- left of me,
to explain
in a soft whisper
that some people
lose all hope
that they extinguish their light
entirely.
And at this, her color drained
from red
to white
to blue,
the same colors
as it happens
that her father
could be wrapped in.
I killed a child
when I was thirteen.
I killed a child
and that child was me.
#ProseChallenge #DeepestSecrets
I Must Confess
I told my secrets
to the daisies when
darkness began
to overtake my reflection.
but I don't trust
very well,
so I'm throwing matches
to cover my tracks,
and watering the earth
in gasoline,
I dream of feeding
the future with char because,
grass grows better
when something dies.
tomorrow looks
pretty fuckin good
when I consider,
what I'm about to do.
The Shadow People
We swallow unspoken words
Like moldy bread,
The secrets eat us from the inside
Until parts of our bodies dislodge and
Blow into the wind.
I'll never tell you that I don't love you.
You'll never tell me that you lost yourself
Somewhere along Highway One,
Your heart hanging from the tree limbs
Overlooking the Pacific.
We used to feel so invincible
That phrases tumbled from our tongues,
Overt and pregnant with promises.
Now we have to look for
Ourselves in the cracks
And crevices of crumbling landmarks.
We used to feel so significant
That our shadows could have
Been painted on postage stamps.
Now we have to press
Our fingers to our faces
Just to be certain We still exist.
Tricksters wool
Grimy eyes
Deceptive ways
When all that lives
Begins to fade
Creamy lies
Delicious taste
When all that breathes
Chases the bait
Failing to realize
The perfect disguise
The hidden pit
Fattens the skinny cat
Everyone thinks
He's royal blue
Out of the bag
Magic you
As black as the wood
Supportive fuel
They never knew
The pit
Made the changes
As spray polish
Does to shoes
Mummy and daddy,
are on a trip
Siblings are laughing
Glued to tv
You gently snick out
One cigar says, I do
Everyone thinks
You're whiter than snow
With feet of a kitten
Chameleons muse
Toothpaste to pepper mints
Encrypted news
Say you're a genius
Understood by few
Downgraded by your teachers
Parents include
Your theory can save
The atmosphere
From carbons misused
Everyone thinks
You're as dumb as a pig
The scales are not obvious
For you're Einstein renewed.
Tinsel lies
As I lie scribbling
on the beach
scrabbling for some
deep secrets
left to leak,
strange that I'm
not even tempted
to let my
conscience speak.
Confession, a blessing?
Good for the soul?
Surely that kind
of thing is
just a fiction
best served cold.
If you prefer hot,
I could take you
back to when
Led Zeppelin
was as heavy
as things got
and the nearest
thing to sin
was spinning discs
backwards to
let some evil in.
That's when
life was a hurry
and the passion
and the fury
were kept
decently buried.
Nowadays I
could practice
voodoo, deny God,
flagellate myself
and people might
even applaud.
These are shameless
times of few regrets
when uncovering
nameless secrets
is a thankless task.
Of course, it wouldn't
be poetry if it were
ordinary not odd
and stripped of
the mystery and
the alchemy
the coolest life
may seem a fraud.
Brave players we,
whether king
queen, knight or pawn
enrolling ourselves
in life's fantasy,
draped in tinsel lies,
to delude ourselves
that our hidden lives
are not the yawn
we know them to be.
So maybe the
dirtiest secret
now left to tell
is that I'm just
a simple poet
here for the ride
and have nothing
interesting
left to hide.
And if that's
not true of you
I would like to bet
you haven't learnt
the trick of
keeping secrets yet.
Silent Whispers
Ahh! The delicious secret
the naked sin,
aroused skin and body
where silent whispers reside.
Secrets plunging deeply
from frolicking clouds,
breaths melting in drops
in silk coats of passion.
Shadows are lurking,
ghosts lingering,
gliding on tiny wings,
subterfuge of secrets,
silken camouflage.
We run naked
into harboring forest
finding our dark den
of forbidden iniquity.
I slip deeply into you
with my mind and body
making love in woods,
where no one listens.
Yearning echoes ring
in chambers of my heart.
Can you feel my want?
Currents of unmapped
desire emanate through
tortured spirits.
We depart orange wine sun
leaving forlorn messages,
forever love
inscribed in the sand,
unveiling the secret
we hide from the world
that both of us
belong to another.
Hurricane
She holds secrets in her heart
Hidden under happy memories of her children
You have to go through hell to find it
But they're there
Sometimes patient, lying in wait
Other times digging, clawing, pounding
Behind the locked and bolted door
Sometimes you will see glimpses of it
Catching a moment of it in her eyes
When she thinks no one is looking
You can see them in the way she walks
Slowly as if with caution
The way she dresses in neutral colors and with modesty
To blend in
On the outside she appears quite composed
But if you could see deep enough into the darkness of her eyes
You would see there is a hurricane always brewing
A Secret Storm
The secrets I keep
Buried deep
In my stonewalled heart
Never to depart
My lips
But may drip
As diamonds from my eyes
Look past my disguise
And get lost in the maze
On your way
To my deepest secrets...
I build my walls high
To keep them inside
Disregard the cracks that have formed
From caging this storm
Beneath the surface of my skin
Secrets rage within
Look into my eyes
Beyond the maze of lies
And recognize
The danger
Of becoming my passenger
In this violent storm
Formed
From my deepest secrets.
Wanderer
Shrouded
clouded
dormant,
but poised.
This paroxysm outbreak
torrid and smouldering.
I wish it to be for you
Climbing
clambering,
far out of reach.
I need to feel this
Unrequited,
blemished committal.
You are not what
you promised.
Fundamental compulsions
evolved into necessity
while your eyes drift.
I want that unknown
Still
I'll lock this away,
decaying in the dark.