The man after eating all the animals

on earth and putting out eruct,

and making them extinct,

is taking initiation to write,

other planets’ organism’s forecast.

*******************

Crystal, marble memories

Course the labyrinth of my mind

Circle round the maize

In hopes an exit they will find

Trapped within the cornfield

Shame that stalks, whispering winds

Harvesting emotions

In the combine of back when

***

photo credit

the season we are in dot com

20 years of dizzying changes gone by.

I miss our times together my brother.

The old wounds have faded and gone

soft in my heart.

I know they were never deeper than my

over sensitive skin anyway. To hear your

voice on the phone every few years is

nice, but I love to see your great big smile

dance across your face and hear that deep

so true laugh rise from your chest.

We parted ways on uncertain terms, but there

was not malice in me when you got

on that lonely Greyhound bound for the deep

South. I’ve missed you over the years as I left

our Northwestern home state and moved across

the world to my Far East destination.

I should have reached farther. I should have reached

out sooner. The bridge isn’t burned, but I can see tiny

tendrils of smoke rising in the distance and I worry.

#poetry #poem #loss #family #grief

“Shame on you, Ocean Boy!”

Her words cut me like

A barbed verbal insult

“But, I…”

It was all I could say

“But you said we should dance.”

“I meant with each other, baby.”

Her tone made me stagger

I’d been dancing like Jagger

With a girl dressed in black

Like a passion attack.

“But we’ve never been lovers,

Always dancing with others!”

And she snapped back her head

And her look cut me dead.

“You’re so full of emotion,

Just a lusty wide ocean

And you don’t see my tears

When my hope disappears,”

And her eyes filled so quickly

I felt I was fainting.

I never had seen

How her love held her back

And the shame rolled across me like thundering black

And I stepped in to kiss her

A moment too late

As she slapped me and left me

In a moment of hate.

And she ran from the club

Carrying five years of pain

And the driver had no chance,

Tyres slid in the rain.

And I live with the knowledge

That her love was so pure

As I visit her grave every day I feel sure

That the shame I am feeling

It will always be there

For she loved me completely

And I just didn’t care.

I like this version (it could be the video.. tsk!)… I only just came across this, but I actually love it… makes me smile…it is such a fun version!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkjKgh-G6vg

Not the original by Shirley and Co, which is here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEzQV75LDL0

I wrote this back in the 90's for someone in the family that took his life after suffering alone with HIV/AIDS.

Shame Has No Boundaries

By Tonya Rene Gill

Shame has no boundaries when you're alone in life.

No one to feel your heartaches no one to feel your pain.

There's no greater shame than a man who walks alone.

No one to remember who he really was, no one to guide him home.

A man who everyone would walk around but never saw inside,

the soul of a loving caring man who also has his pride.

Remember his courage he tried so hard to keep.

In the midst of battles where all he could do was weep. There's no greater shame than a man who walks alone, tormented so badly he never waited for God to take him home. Shame has no boundaries when hanging from a rope, ending the shame because no one cared to offer him hope.

He slips into the back row

eyes cast down,

answering unspoken questions.

His cheeks flush

knowing they see him.

Confronted without castigation,

indirectly demeaned,

he hears them.

A hundred thousand voices in the night

echoing condemnation.

Everything he shouldn’t be,

he is.

shame slithers round me

like a sly, sorry snake.

he curls ’round my legs,

capturing me like his pray,

never letting his eyes leave mine,

not even for a second.

i am enamored by him,

i am his vessel,

wreaking havoc to all i touch.

i am not a good daughter,

i am not a good sister,

i am not a good hater,

i am not a good lover.

shame slithers shamelessly until i’m shaking in shambles.

sexuality a sin, sin is my shame,

my sinful shame strikes my soul from heaven,

strikes my soul and leaves its sorrow,

my sorrowful sorry, my sinful shame.

“Just look at her all prim and proper.”

She hears their whispers in the air.

“How can she even walk into the same room as us?” As they all stop and stare.

Still the whispers go on as she takes her seat.

It takes every bit of strength she has left just to sit in her family’s pew. The same pew in the same row in the same church whith the same people she grew up with. Half the congregation she’s related to, the other half she’s known all her life.

So one would think this so called “FAMILY ” would come together when one of their flock is suffering.

Instead they sneered at her. They judged her.

Everyone assumed she was easy and she could hear some of them whispering

“Slut” “Whore” as she held her head up walking from the door. P

Everyone assumed this was her doing, because she was born pretty she was too enticing to men so it’s no wonder she was in the family way, only 15 years old and not married! If only she didn’t have those sexy long legs, the kind that look like stripper legs in high heels. Maybe if she wasn’t so well developed “38”- “24″- “32” and looking like a 25 year old it wouldn’t have

happened. Maybe if she had fought harder it would have made a difference.

What a pity it’s a shame she was born so pretty.

As I sit worklessly and aimlessly

my mind wanders through the walls of past,

head bows down and eyes clench tight as I recall...

The days when I refused to say “yes”

as the teacher took attendance in 1st grade

because I was scared and a coward that I was.

As I climbed up the stairs behind my mother,

“mother’s tail” they said and goaded me

where I became extra aware to climb stairs in their absence.

That day when I broke my own record of being

“girl who never got scolded by the teacher”,

and got slapped in front of the whole class.

When my parents stotl my diary and

later chastised me for writing rubbish,

and then hid my own diary away from me

When yesterday I stood like an outcast and invisble

where none cared to acknowledge me

while they were talking and playing

And they call me “friends”.

The shameful events of my past still haunt me

where I just can’t let go,

So instead of trying hard to forget it,

I think it has to be embraced and accepted

because that has shaped the person “me”.