How can I describe the choking of life yesterday?

How I could not breathe without reprimand

or directions on each step I took

and how one step out of line brought instant overbearing misery?

Living like on stage for the world, giving a performance

of what life I am supposed to lead, while I am living in hell

So hard to break free from this electric hold on my mind, my SOUL!

So bound to custom and regulations and punishments.

Then to be cast out and rejected of this "priveledged" existance,

the "comforts of home" stripped of me, and thrown to the desert.

The starkness of life slammed me in the face, reeling me, spinning and spiralling in my mind.

Suddenly I could move, left or right, it was my open choice.

I could eat and travel, all facing me at once.

I was lost in familiar territory.

I had a rag for s shirt and jeans more holey than the Pope.

I had a backpack of a few scant items to walk with.

And walk I did.

I walked and sat under bridges.

I walked across streets and ate from bushes and trees.

I washed in sprinklers.

I found railroad tracks to follow.

I made all store clerks stare at me while I played games in Best Buy.

I was a throwaway, and free as trash in a wind.

Right, left, north, south? The constant choices freeze my mind and I walk-

walk-

I've danced with Death

and he was a fine dancer

smooth and easy

but his hands were clammy

and he had a desperate grip

Life was a much finer dancer

He occasionally stepped on my toes

and stumbled about

but he had a warm grip

his face shone

and his unbridled, unpredictable

happiness

is easily spread

Hot, salty tears

no one can see.

No one to look for them

no one to weep with me.

I'm reaching

and getting air

I'm reaching

and nothing's there.

Lightning-fire chased the winds
I can feel it
It electrified me as it passed
Snapping me to attention
Hackles saluting the skies
I spun, reveling
But it passed
And I slumped, lost in thought
Sinking into psychotic dreams
Feeling cursed with immortality
“Just give me a Purpose,”
I anguished, “to die for,
To live for”
But the empty, rolling prairie,
With it’s bare void
Black, silent thunderheads
Left me there
And, seeing no life,
I imagined….
The prairie glanced at me
Out of the side of it’s eye,
Meaningfully,
And I jumped and soared,
And chased the lighting-fire,
Who chased the winds.

It was sunset when I realized-
There was no day
Day is yet to come
So I wait; my new religion
To start my life at Daybreak
So I suffer trough the Night
Just waiting, waiting
Praying and living and crying
Trying to imagine my new life
Compared to sunset,
Sunrise must be paradise!
And I dream and wait
Thinking how I could laugh at this
Nighttime ride
And it dawns on me
There is no Daybreak
It was just a dream to get me through
The Night

Crush

Can’t you see

What’s happening to me

It’s the crush of living death

Ah,

There’s more

Than one way to

Kill yourself than by what you see

Worst

Kind of execution

Done by your Self

I’ve killed myself a long time ago

Inside

Where death resides

To set it free

Is by shedding Life’s liquid rivers

Crush

I can’t breathe

I can’t even see

Who can take this crush from me?

Get over it

What happens
To the child
Who has never known
Real love?

They forever exist in lacking
And yearn for what they do not know
Each day is cold
The road is hard

Without the basic needs
For survival
How do others expect
The grown child to thrive?

When the child flounders
In the emptiness
The desolation

…

Surviving is not thriving
And the greatest shame
Lies in the comment
Get over it

Were there a physical wall to see
How easy would it be?
Only as emotional creatures
Do the children choke and starve on love

O were there a wellspring to visit
To be replenished enough as they should be
To stand on equal ground with fellow men
And start life prepared and filled

No, this is fool’s dreaming
Damage done cannot be undone
Were one’s bones calcium deficient, their bones would be weak
Likewise if one’s soul is starved, their heart is weak

All the child can do
Is gather what scraps of love
S/he can find
In hopefully the right places…

I don’t exist
I am hated
There is another I love
I fear for her

They’re gonna get her

I am too scared
To run away
Even though I dream of it everyday

There’s nothing wrong nothing wrong

But I am so so so so bad
I don’t know what I did
But it has to be so

Because they say it is true

Why can’t I be good?
It’s all my fault
I try and try - not good enough

I think something’s not right
Though I can’t believe it
I am sooooooo scared
When I hear them coming fast

They’re gonna hurt me
I want to die
I can’t breathe
When I hear them

But as soon as I step outside
Nobody knows and I’m fine

I just stay at school until late
And slowly go straight home

Like a good girl
Like a good girl

I'm not sure how I got here
And I'm not quite sure where here is
But it seems I'm hanging on a rock cliff face
Hanging on by my fingernails
And it doesn't seem I'm going anywhere fast
So I've got lots of time to think
I'm got plans on going up
But gravity's laws are pulling me down
And soo I don't think I'll care which way I go
Each move up, I'm pulled down one
Got people looking at me funny now
So I'm hanging on a rock cliff face
Only by my fingernails and will
It's a stressful situation
I think I'll need a guide-no, I'm not blonde-
"Cause my will and fingernails are wearing down
Sometimes I think I'm not really here
Or maybe the bottom's five feet down
But it's gotta be the heat or the rocks in my eyes
"Cause I've been here too long
There's only two ways to go-up or down-
So I guess I'll go sideways

wish I had a broken leg
or maybe an arm, I have little preference

people could sign it and doctors would check it
pills would numb the pain

but I don't, I’m fine
have no injury to be seen, I am well

only because they don't make casts for broken hearts

because they don't, mine didn't set right
I think time doesn't heal everything

it so easily breaks as I am looked down upon
or at the slightest upturned nose

I tried to make a cast, i really did
an impenetrable wall around it

but I made it wrong, no surprise
it's weight is crushing what's left of it

I wish a doctor could make it all better
and give me some pills for the pain

but until x-rays can show it
and casts can protect it

I’ll just be still and walk gently and alone

I’m not a poet,
as if this didn't show it

I’ve o.ded on you
I’ve passed overload
The wave is yet coming
It’s staring at you
You mock it on the growing beach
As it retreats from you
Blind to what must be
It is growing
And it has an ocean behind it...

I’ve killed you a hundred times
In a hundred blurred faces
I’m… different
Dying while growing; not one of those typical cases
Won’t let anyone understand me
I’m a wanderer, always lost
Don’t care
A sick healer, a bind seer
I’ve got to get free, no matter the cost
Got to shake this sick hate
Helpless rage
Killing me and molding me
No purpose in a world of arrows
I look the same, but realize- you can’t see
If you haven’t guessed- I’m depressed

Ask any terrified child

if the pain ever fades

they say nonononono!

you can only forget it

and with it

everything else

even to forget any joy

just to forget the pain

it's worth it

it's all the same

faces bring memories

one thought leads to

the other

the other might bring pain

just forget the past!

All gone!

Just forget it!

just forget It.

am sorry

cannot see

your

problem

I'm

blinded

the one

you

gave me.

The Persuit of Fleeing

dusty-foot I clamber

over porous black brittle rock

coated by blown dried blood-red dust

the tiny crags make tiny incisions

on my dried, bony hands

I tire

nothing striking has my eyes seen

for timeless time

the red dust tainting the air for miles

the sharp black rocks

from gravel to boulders

I thirst

a scrabble of dry grass I see

deep in crevasses of rock and dust

thin dry blades nourishes by a dead insect,

no doubt, home to a spider or scorpion-

there, a breeze-stirred web, and there,

a claw in the stillness of hungry wait.

what baseness of life I perceive

and, knowing memory gives roses in winter,

I try to call up times past

come upon a scene of pain

I refuse to recognize- be gone!

bad pastimes are all-present, for all time

this visage

I imagined to see a happy holiday

but nay, it was tainted

by a dried blood-red dust

never have I been carefree

but wait- thee was once...

on the genesis of this sojourn

I worried little; I was free

of one imprisonment and walking to freedom

I did not know imprisonment needed

no chains, sometimes

open confinement

chains of Babylon, chains of freedom,

chains of memory, chains of dreams,

an imagined map to an illusory goal!

ha! only dreamers traverse the

jagged landscape in search of

happily-ever-after Elysian Fields

or perhaps due to the war of my life,

my pure eyes and life against the

twisted foot-soldiers of Babylon,

Valhalla is my rest and glory, ah,

sweet rest of glory, never-ending vitality

oh, fool I am, I dream on, I move on

I hope

the trumps and drums of victory festivities

sound in my ears, the blustery, dusty wind

slowly ebbs, my limbs gain strength-

a sound alien to the land of desolation whispers, it is - it is water!

my yellowed eyes descry the blue serpentine,

a painful color following the morbid

hue of this earth, and I stumble

over the mountainous terrain to

the cool blue and halt, distrusting

for poison or brackish liquid after my

trek in malevolent country, then rush careless

into the stream, cleansed temporal and spiritual to find-

ah, sweet nectar of purity
slurred with the blown earth
but a welcome retreat the same
finally a course to follow, if I can trust chance
to it’s end-
my tired heart dares not rise to the hope
and rebels the thought of so easy a win
after such a journey through frozen time
and unwrapped eternity of paths-
I freeze in indecision but a moment
to reconcile my feelings and follow the flow

no mourning can amend this trial!

no sign of human touch have I seen
but if I were not alone I would not know
if another or a throng has this or that way marched
due to the bluster of the arid landscape
and those downcast eyes of mine
that only glance up at guarded hope
i am pledged to this aspect by writ of waking existence
and loss of any other bearing-
naught else remained to me to do

ah me and all to be and see such

howbeit a land becomes rejected of Nature?
what life has it held, or secret it withholds
deserves such unrecognition to the all encompassing
touch of Her?
perhaps…
i have much in common with this place I try to defeat
or I must be quite wicked to deserve such pains

hey see! A figure in the mist of dust
standing stark and still
eyes unblinking and deathlike
and visage quite horrid
but all round him the air stands still
and sand does not weather his face
I sidle up to him and wordlessly address myself

He turns to his own unseen path
So I follow in my manner,
stumbling where he glides
till we come to a shelter of quaint exterior
wood being it’s substance
an enigma of origins in this treeless plain

here ends, I recon, my long path

upon entry I see Spartan furnishings
like following its purpose of miniscule activity
and thought

when a trap springs, it can at times be a relief

here- I pass my time- in silence and breathing
trying to find in my mind it’s peace
and reconciliation of the events in my life
and choice of avenue

there remained a door never opened
as plain as the portal to the rocky plains
politely never spoken of
with a single word scratched above on it’s frame:
weep

that was one door I dare not open
weep? what a miserable state,
to blubber and wail over truly nothing indeed

so I pass my time, a year and more passes
in silence and contemplations
until one eve as I rock slowly in my chair
mid sleep and wakefulness I see the child
that I once was, in it’s terrible state
unloved and uncared-for
sitting silently as I do now, my eyes blurred curiously
and a drop of salty water slipped down my cheek-

my surprise and shriveled shame at it!

I wiped it quickly away to find it followed by another like it
so on, it goes, the water falling
and he looked at me, the ugly benefactor!
watched me without shame!
I turned away in anger and frustration
hoping the immature act would cease
and lay eyes on that door again
with it’s sign

why not?

I rise, seeing as I finally fit it’s requirement
open the door splintering with age
to

light…!

color brazen, cleanliness
and my goal!
it is realized in complete
how dull I am to let slip years
and avoiding the realization of my toil!
happy souls that once wept
after the horrors seen
surround me trumpeting in jubilation
that I finally have come!
a dance never have I imagined
no fear of precise steps or order
just an expression of BEING and happiness!
a pomp and gaiety unmatched by any in my
past travels in mortality,
happy am I to be home!
and oh, what a simple price to pay-
to weep-
for myself? what a thought, and ah me, what a reward!
this is what healing is, eh?
a glance backward spies the ugly benefactor
still unsmiling and unmoved, shutting the door softly-
I think I understand-
each step, even the resting, is the path
each miserable step a step to prosperity of spirit
each necessary, but needing to be moved forth from
to realize Valhalla of the wanderers
lost on the path from Hades.

The Hero Fallen, a song

Have I been anything, but selfless?
It is what I am, to serve
I stood before a flag and declared my blood
To be yours without a thought

I swore to do naught but serve
In all my days
I swore to uphold my land in peace
I swore to give my all, for those who scorn...

And I hold my peace, when despised

Was there any moment I failed you?
Was there any time, I turned my back?
Was there any more that I could do-
And didn’t do it?

I dreamed to die, bathed in blood
I dreamed to live with pride
I dreamed to be your hero
But I feel that I have failed.

And I hold my peace, when despised.

What am I, but a servant too weak
To serve?
What am I, but a wish and a prayer
For something more…

I lived to die defending you all
I lived to defend your right to live
In peace and in prosperity
Yet here I am…

Gone my glory, and my history halted
Gone my purpose, my life
Yet here I am…
Only a dream breathing still…

I wanted nothing more than to serve you
I wanted only to be one of the team
I wanted to fight for our honor
Yet here I am, again…

I can only ask, now what?
I have not forgotten my oath to serve
I have not forgotten to die and not surrender
There is no “I” in team…

I would die, so you could mock my battle
I would die, so you could mock my purpose
I would die, just so you could breathe free
If only, for just one more day.

Open Mic Night At The Coffeehouse

I’m nervous here
Standing in the eaves
I don’t do well in front of others
Or so I am sure, ‘cause it’s how I feel
I watch as one by one they stand
Take their place behind the mic
Recite some stuff they had in mind
I can’t stand the smell of coffee
It just fogs my head
Some have laptops, all are dressed, well,
Just not like me, I guess
Now it’s my turn, so here I come
Walk to the place I borrow
For a few words of mine

These people are strangers
I’m not sure why I came
I thought to spread my word
But would they hear it?
Hurry, take a breath-

(I’m not like you all
You look nice, if you don’t mind
Your poems are artsy and I’m quite simple
Your nails are black, that means death?
Death goes yellow, I know…
I don’t wear black often, it’s hot
Walking outside
The parking lot’s full though
So I’m sure you’re comfortable)

Hello, I’m not angst
Not anger or confusion
The sun, flowers, and butterflies are pretty
I agree
But I hope you see what I see
At least for today

I don’t have paper in my hand
My poem come from inside, not a pen
It needs to be spoken, and maybe to be heard
It demands I deliver it
And I’m here to serve

I never screamed, I am silence itself
Discretion and propriety
But I had reason to, long ago
But the chance is lost, so hear me

The color of pain is sparkles,
More starry than the city night sky
Brighter than the sun in eclipse
And as dark
It’s what I see when he hit me
Mid blur of motion and color confusion

The color of anger is not red
It’s brightest white
The tightness of skin
On a face…
Pulling in a grim grin
And the slow pull back of the arm…

The color of betrayal is blue

The color of the carpet as you’re face down
And the mother who cradled you
Gasps in exertion of kicks and blows
As you curl in a ball on the ground

Beauty is the sun

Setting over the tracks
The glowing orange of smog
And the far away boy’s choir in a high note
Haunting, chilling sound of a train far away
It’s beautiful because you can see it…

Beauty is listening to the roar of a mall crowd
The feeling of life and vitality
And the range of emotions you feel
That they feel
Because you feel something…
Even if it isn’t from you

I never screamed
When I was stalked
In the cool quiet of night
Safe inside the window, breathing deeply of free air…
And the sharp surprise of blows
Isn’t really painful
At first, you just wonder
Where the air went

I’ve known a bit of pain
The kind with sparkles
And the kind with blurs
I haven’t known much else
But I can feel its presence
Of possibilities

I truly know the taste of sweet nectar
When all you’ve eaten is nectarines
Hidden grown and secret picked

And I know the feeling of rest
When you wake in another alien place
And for a while, not remember why you’re there…

I know laughter so hard I split my sides
Looking up into faces of friends
Oh, the sweet laughing faces of ignorant friends
As we waste away the after school afternoon
On the grounds where you are strict governed
And timely minded
In chasing and teasing and laughing in the sun
Oh, nothing so sweet as the forgetting
And pretending you aren’t waiting
For night…

I know beauty, and it isn’t in trifles
It isn’t in the obvious
It isn’t in the little moment
It’s what you look for when life is all you see
And damned you’d better find it
Its there, just look at me…

You see, I’m not in a dress
Or black turtleneck
No black painted nails
No laptop or car
I’m not like you
You’re not like me

The beauty is in the junk
You all turn away from
The beauty is just in the freedom
To choose what you see
And to see what is there
Is just fine, and perfect

I see it all the time, the good stuff
In every second it’s there
In every moment, it’s there
Just look! Damn you all
Pursue it, chase it, open your eyes
Everything’s beautiful
Even the white, the blue, the sparkles
Don’t muse over trifles
Or expound on the obvious
Chase sunsets and look at rocks
The dirty child’s face
My gosh, what the work
To make each thing so perfect
To form the living human
That can live in the moment
Hellish or heavenly moment
And have LIVED every damn minute of that life
I haven’t missed a thing
I am cultured and experienced
Worn and smooth
To live in the moment…
Is to never use the pay scopes
On top of the buildings
And to see the cityscape
And be the cityscape
And not miss a thing
And see perfect in flaws
Is to be perfect in flaws

That’s all I came here for
The words commanded me
And I obeyed
I live to serve the beauties
They serve me to live

And so I walk off the stage
Looking coyly at their reactions
Some haughty
Some astonished
Some scornful at the “low class poem”
But they at least thought a moment, I’m sure
And they can walk out in the blinding sun
And think a moment
How I would see it….

15, there's still time for you

when all you have is a hundred years

to live

as the song plays

and i stare out of my window

at my world

at my freedom

and i slowly begin to accept

yes, perhaps it is real

life is always bustling on

everyone with a goal

and no destination in mind

always thinking

once this is done, then i can....

but there is no done, no rest

this is as good as it gets

and that's ok

that's ok

cause now we focus on recovery

and yes, all recovery is hard

physical therapy or mental therapy

all the same, the same pain

but i can rest now

i have my freedom

what more could anyone want?

we eat, we are clothed

we travel, we talk

we watch tv and movies

we read books, we relax

and are not forced

free to choose, to be

this is as good as it gets

and that's ok

that's ok

there may not be a crystal castle

no rainbows everyday

but those dreams aren't real

this is the life

our one and only

and it's as good as it gets

and that's ok

that's ok

My silent sea my silent sea

and me and me

gliding silently silently

all grey in my silent sea

no sound of waters

no sound from me

in my silent sea

alone i glide just only me

no one's missing me

or knows of the silent sea

it's just me just me

and my silent sea

no to or where just only me

and my silent sea silent sea

Fallen Look Up

Fall the fallen

Intimate with human frailty

Seeing heights in quaintness

In meager existance

Feeling fate hunted

Chased by hated realities

oh fall, fallen

why persue?

why entreat emptiness?

Heights mock, yes

Yet are mocked

From low sensitivities

Replaced by humbler entreat

For quiet plot and tender embrace

And air sweetly scented

For easy breath

To absorb the last sigh of

Miscontent and heavy chest

Wild Ones

I don't fear the night

I am the night

I don't fear the weather

I am the weather

I don't fear pain

I am pain

I don't fear fear

I am fear

I am here, never to fall

never to be blinded by darkness

never to tremble with anything but fury

I am the wild one

Complete and whole as only fury and wildness

No wind can push me

no sun can burn me

no blow can stun me

no waters can drown me

no thing can make me bend my knee

I stand to stand forever

I cannot be broken, I break only

I crouch in the cliff holes and wait for quarry,

migrating to the waters in the south

waiting with my clan with endless patience

Still as stone,

only movement is invisible blood in it's streams

In a cloud of red mist I take my fill

the violence balances out the stillness

The true wild ones do not fear the wild

they are the wild

They are the forces that others fear

the Mother of nature

there is no fear here...

heh heh

Would you love me if you knew?

Would you shake your head, cry;

Would you ask me how, why?

It makes me tremble, what would you do?

Would you cast me aside,

deny me outright?

I'm too scared to fight.

Would you say that I lied?

All I want is to be loved by you.

If you should shun me,

I hope you could see

that to not die is all I can do.

In Hearts Called Home

How can I express?

I was raised alone

in a seperate world;

taught that The Family

would be all I had.

I never knew a kindred soul,

expected I would enter alone

in Heaven;

no soul to greet me,

no soul to care.

I knew I would wed,

alone,

with no one

to walk me down an aisle.

I knew

I would have few Christmas cards,

no birthdays,

no celebrations.

I lived alone in my soul,

faced a future of bleakness,

as bleak as my lonely past.

I surrounded myself

with acceptance,

knowing I would be pitied

the rest of my life.

I faced it,

I lived it,

this life lived singly.

I was a tumbleweed,

tossed and rolled

to far places

because I lost my roots.

I never had a chance.

Then:

one day my life changed forever.

I sought a name on a whim

and found a lost life.

A life I was deprived of,

a life with validation,

a life with love.

I no longer tossed alone,

I was lost, then found,

and then brought home.

I feel like a square peg

working into a round hole,

but some way I'll find my place

in hearts called home.

For all my life I’ve been freewheeling in the sea
Fighting mountainous swells and the crushing, pulling of the waves
Paddling pitifully against the currents of the tumult
Gasping, flinging, an insignificant speck in primordial sea
Always fighting, wondering when it was time to give
Wondering if it would be a sin to relax
To let my limbs go slack and

let the storm take me
Pull me under to where it thought I belonged.
I’ve been fighting so long; it’s been my only existence
But now, now it’s not my choice, the sea takes the chance of sin away,
And pulls me under, strongly under
Until I realize what I really have been fighting
It was not for my life in a storm that has its time then disappears into memory
I’ve been fighting The Storm, the single thing in my life
Pretending if I fought long enough it would fade and let me struggle to shore.
Now as I am being pulled under, not by my will, by God, but by the Great Storm
And I feel for the first time the searing pain of salty water in my throat and lungs,
Filling them and taking residence.
I feel the strength not being given up, but taken from me.
I feel the fear suddenly fill me deep inside, so fast I have not time to prepare for it.
For before it was only a struggle to stay afloat and survive till it passed, and that was my woe.
Now, now, now, The Storm stops playing games and shows me what is its Law.
I have not time for fear, nor anger, nor sorrow, nor surprise.
Now is a feeling never acknowledged by me before, a feeling unwritten, untaught in school…
Not the sad, happy, fear, anger, excited, and such that is taught in primary schools.
It is only a feeling deep within that fills the body, that has no facial expression,
But seen in the eyes of a man who suddenly realizes that his reality is gone forever,
Or in the eyes of a child/woman who sees the true horror or her life rise before her, and knows she was on borrowed time.

It is the feeling called TAKEN.