An Angel, A Saint - I'm a Sinner

They say writing helps

I say I'm a writer

In writing there is not enough or there is too much

not enough oomph and pizazz

enough training

enough time

Too many thoughts, too many dreams, too many words flit away, fleeting

I can't write, I can't speak, I don't know, it's all pressing in upon my heart

I miss something wordless, something sacred and dear

Sadness, tears, hope

Feelings that don't make sense anymore, I've lost them

How many patches can heal a broken heart

Broken, yes, but despairing

I suppose humility would help, I know I have been guided and blessed

Ha I recognize this!

Can I sing Hallelujah? I would, I would sing with the choir

I can't though, I can't

Can't you look at me and know that I'm sinking? Sinking in the mire! I'm doing what I can yet I cannot do enough! I cannot! I Cannot!!!

If I could just give this pain up I would, oh Lord I would but that seems to require that I care! I Cannot! I cannot! I've got too much to do!

My love, my word it's nothing like I want it to be, it cannot be I cannot feel! My God!

If you loved me you would require that I should be held, just held and loved and loved and held and you would let me go or would hold me close or leave me alone because I am a shell sheltering a little girl that once cried every night for a friend.

They say that writing helps

Does it? Am I helped? Am I better? NO I miss what I never had, I miss what I wanted before, I miss something, something and even though I try I cannot be enough of who you think I am

An Angel, A Saint

I'm a sinner

I'm just this way, a pathetic wreck of a soul

Can you tell me I am not? What about you Cousin? Cousins? Friends? I have no friends I'm too busy no one cares for a wreck really? Do they? They care only if you can cheer and make them laugh, I cannot, I'm no good for them.

Vita Post Mortem

In the middle of the  whispering sentinels stands a man not yet born, there alights in the shadows a hint of glory to be found.

Shudders of fear as the visionary chants in the darkness, singing the soliloquies meant to hide, meant to reveal what is thought.

My night has fallen, my soul is in torment, I cannot face what I don't understand

So the child shouts into the wind, no one seems to hear, the silence is deafening, darkness abounds

Oh golden sunshine, heal this broken heart, make man out of this clay, make light out of this darkness

Reveal the hidden crevices where the chimera is kept

Grasp firmly the branch, feel deeply the root for here it is safe to be alive.

Night has fallen, the day brings new light where the socks don't makes sense and the cents don't add up

Struggle, and nip at the scarcity, nip at it and work for the school holds no answers, heartfelt songs hold no secrets, or so they seem

Tears fall in a discretionary way in snippets of time warps which seem never ending

Ask and ye shall receive, the hero doubts and then recoils

Receive

What recompense, what answers have been given and the lines don't add up

The lines are too long here, the books are so thick

Questions lay heavy in the air

Darkness falls again and again

Light! Send light! Send recourse! Send happiness!

All the threads that bind us together are unseen

Alone

An illusion

Dismissed

Through pain of others imperfections

Silence

Yet your voice is still heard

Though night and day fall, confusion and light, in truth all hearts are one

The child is man

Death becomes life

Clay becomes flesh when awoken by a spark

Statue

Gazing out the window as though gazing at the dark foreboding sea
Cursed be her thoughts
Cursed be her heart
For cursed is she

A silent thoughtfulness on her face as passerbys scrutinize
nothing is revealed save the darkness in her eyes
no nothing can be conveyed but the darkness

Still she stands, as a statue, on watch for the dawn
she stands a martyr to her fate
her words as venom in her heart, a betrayal of her own

Unknowing the power her words condemn her
knowingly she prays
silence answers
for the inner voice is gone

Abba

Where have I been?

ABBA

My father?

Where have I been?

Torn away from myself, torn apart, torn by life, torn by love

Oh Abba, Abba why is life so hard?

I've failed myself, I've failed you, and all those who love me too.

Abba, Abba, ABBA! My Father!!

Right here, you've been right here
when the silent of the night falls I have held you as you selpt
and the Angels wept as you struggled to stand.

Right here, you've been right here
In my heart, in my soul, I love you

Your voice is not silenced, your silence is heard
daughter, allow yourself to be whole
allow me to heal you

You've done that before, and I faltered Lord, fell

Stand again, I will hold you

but I don't trust myself

Stand and walk I will be right there

Always

The Psychology of the Animals

Animals that pick on other animals, homeless, mangy animals
the way that they see the myopic strangeness of now
yet often cannot see the obvious
how often they guard and protect
how often they run
how often they cry

they cry because they cannot see

they cry, they cannot see

there is another side

a side you cannot see

Harsh, harsh hurtful infliction

Puncture, wound, maim

Lash out

they say he is insane

and yet they cannot see the wounds, the silence, the wounds

and then the end, the pathos, the end

Silence, lonesome

a howl in the night

pathos denied

the criminal is dead

The others rejoice, he is no more!

gloating silence, he is no more

Ha

and then they see the emptiness

the depths of sorrow they had missed

the silence echos
a refrain of the empty life.

George Michael - Faith

Because the Playlist version went splunk, here is the You Tube video of one of my favorites.

Understanding

Fell the light leaves, each leaf joined the earth
yet searching the rains could not quench

Poured out were the waters, waters of hope
hope sprung forth from the ground

Shadows hide the sight of the moon
brief ephemeral beauty


Sight unseen fallow ground
brings forth hope from hopelessness

Short Breaths

Fussy fussy night noises, I cannot discern one thought from another, I am left to wonder at the irritation felt just beneath the surface of my nerves

My daughter shifting on the bed, turning upside down
clapping
Scratching at the pillow

There at the tip of my tongue
the thought I want to convey

Snatched as though grasped by mocking demons, laughing at my desires of expression

Tears come to my eyes, frustration, desire

I wish to be alone

yet ironically I know this is all

a breath of my life

Greek Tragedy

In that fashion, not quite unknown to me, yet like a foreign language a burden on my tongue, I shall try to write this bit of poetry.

It is as if the ancient Greeks have dressed me with false masks of emotions

I stand before the stage about to appear

trembling in the anticipation of the tragedy before me.

An act! A farce!

The falsity of silence behind the curtain.
Yet I can feel the emotions newly starting behind closed eyes.

Behold the Heroin! Bright shining star!

Behold her now

Through trembling lips I give the confession
a condemnation of reality

Priestess! Now pauper

Silence greets me

a haunting reminder of the truth.

Living Life

I'm listening

Someday I will hear and understand

I'm seeing

Someday I will comprehend

I'm doing

Someday I will know how

I'm cleaning

All that I clean will be unclean again

All that I see will someday be altered

All that I hear is the harmony of everything that once was and what is

I'm dreaming

Dreams are realities yet to be born

Life is living