the time will run out
the silence will end
the clouds would burst open
the rain would lash down
blood would flow
scars would show
the heart would be torn open
the mind would go haywire
the time will run out
the sky would fall apart
and the land would burst in flames
only pain, suffering
would linger in the end.
Gone with the wind so long ago,
I still have a long way to go,
And on the road to gravity,
I will look for my liberty.
Though sometimes there are battles lost,
And though I have to pay the cost,
I will fight for some dignity,
If I can not avoid pity…
For I made my family sick,
I can’t do anything but stick
To the dearest ones in my heart
And wish we’ll never be apart.
I wish that I could be a prowling cat
or, ghostlike in the wall, hear pieces, bits
of whispered conversation. Oh. He quits?
How can this be? I feel my heart fall flat.
I wish my dad had not deserted us.
I wonder what we might have all become
if he’d not gone away and left us numb.
I felt a big subtraction, never plus.
I wish my father had approved of me,
shown his encouragement or his support.
Instead, he and my mom wound up in court,
their marriage then dissolved. He, fancy-free,
married again, then two times more. I saw
him try for happiness. O, how I begged
for his attention, but I had him pegged
right, and I sadly saw the fatal flaw
that kept him locked from free and easy back
and forth relationships. And how I wish
than cancer hadn’t spilled its nasty dish
into his lap to emphasize the lack
he must have felt. I stopped my wishing then,
forgave him, overlooked much, and calmed down.
He, after all, had shared his writing crown.
He’d lived Days One through Nine. Soon coming? Ten.
Curl up here inside my heart.
I’ve been keeping it warm
just for you.
Love, joy, peace,
fruits of the Spirit.
Open your heart.
Love will walk in.
The phone would have rung about 11:00 this morning.
“Happy Thanksgiving, honey.”
My mom. And she did it on Christmas, and Easter, and our birthdays, and our anniversary, always that call to begin the day.
It’s been 17 years since I’ve heard that phone call. It was her habit. Call the kids and wish them a happy ____________(whatever). Her voice, tuned to the emotional strings of the day, rang into the depths of me. I could depend on it. Like clockwork, as they say. No call this morning, no voice…
…except in my heart, where I will always hear it.
I love the way you make me feel
like I can tell you anything
I love the way you make me smile
like all my joy is yours to bring
I love the way you call my name
like all the world makes perfect sense
I love the way that you care
for everyone is so intense
I love the way that you love me
you have my heart it’s true and real
I love the way that I can say…
My dearest one, I love you so.
Again feeling nothing
an emptiness prevails
the mind is numb
the heart is fragile
I ask questions from myself
but there seem to be no answers
Again feeling nothing
it is a large void
where I exist with myself
with nothing to feel.
I saw the sunlight lighting
the part of my room,
I flinch away from it
towards my abode where
there is no intrusion by sunlight.
I saw the hope eyeing me
in the corner of my heart,
I tend to shoo it away
towards the dark closet from where
there is no chance of it teasing me.
Finally I saw myself in the mirror now
cowering in the corner of this world.
Sing the song of love with me-
The song which you know by heart
but have hidden within the valleys of your heart,
let it come to you, let it guide you.
Sing the song of love-
The song that will end all this pain.
Let’s sing it together,
let us all sing it together
so as to engrave it in all our hearts.
Sing the song of love with me,
for it will bring the joy, the beauty in our souls.
Sing it with me- the song of love.
Liberated plunge, devoid of any plan,
soaring on wisps of air in pleasing free fall scrolls,
as if escalating the odds against
increases the chance of elusive triumph.
throbbing with delight and
a little fear.
Trepidation’s heart beats,
and fashions simple routes to bolster
Whilst Mutinous Psyche
moves to deliver
the putrefaction of expectations and
to envelop my tissue paper germs of probability until
and, without back up,
On the other side
You know I couldn’t believe it
I felt the heart attack and thought
Not now ! But I fell for it,
After I have been sold and bought…
You tried but you couldn’t help me,
But now it’s a different story,
I can lend you a hand at least,
And I won’t call you the beast.
It’s time to have a new dream,
Cleared from my monstruosity,
Let’s shine like all the sunbeams,
Let’s change the face of this city !
I’ve been a loser all my life,
This time, I’ll keep an open heart
Beating the rhythm of the night,
I won’t let them tear us apart
No more !
September, the 12th
My heart is full
Makes no sense…
Yet makes perfect sense
To all who understand
And many will understand
My heart is empty
Some will say
They don’t know
The fullness therein
And never will