there is nothing left to give
of myself… utterly drained
and driven to distraction
i wish it were not today
this day of reckoning that comes
with such brutal constancy
for my heart is tired
and my mind is spinning
and my soul feels worn like
a flag left out too many winters…
this heat is draining any remnant
of sanity that i may still possess
and still… i will go to this destiny
as appointed, to relive the pain that
resides within the hidden closets
of my memory
Tag: poem
cruel illusion
i fear that I would wander the world
looking for that which already
lingers within me, afraid that
what is housed in my heart is
not enough to sustain love…
even as the sun shines
and the moon shines
i would question this because
darkness is a cruel illusion
that enters as friend and never leaves
oh! my cruel friend turned master
what would you have me do but feed
your emptiness with more of me?
would you go mad?
if we were all quiet,
just for a moment, the world
silenced… no words…no sound-
save that indescribable
white noise of buzzing energy…
would we hear the call of
our soul from within the ether,
and but for a moment,
find within it our own song
that might make clear our purpose
and release the banter that
drives us so to distraction?
or would we suffer at the empty
silence, grasping at the air for
release from the pain of nothingness
that would grip the heart, stripping it of
that which keeps blood flowing?
if but for within that single moment
when the world shut down all sound
would we find ourselves or
go extremely mad?
pricked and beautiful
spent time in my garden
now my hands are lined
with marks from thorns-
roses and raspberries
red and bleeding,
tracks left from nature’s
mighty protection …
i feel the lingering pain
and think of my heart throbbing
shredded and raw like my hands
from the love you gave me-
pricked and beautiful-
but so hurtful
overgrown
it’s just an emptiness that fills
the broken space within
darkness takes root in the cracks
and grows strong
soon these weeds will overrun
my garden
leaving no space for purple balloons
or forgetmenots
for low riding phlox or baskets of gold…
and i lack the strength to continue pulling
grasping at the never-ending tend
for the darkness is rooted within
so deeply that there is no
shovel that could dig out these roots
of overgrown memory
trapped
traumatic walls line my heart
as a dark shield of pain
what once was protection
now makes me a slave
it’s a cage of dull metal
and though i bite and i scratch
there is no relief
nor anyway to go back
oh! that i could take you
far away from here
but, my heart, you’re too willing
to just remain inside trapped
bleak warden
there is nothing left inside my chest
but a bitter emptiness that lines
the hours of my love with
caged bars to keep me safe-
and while I long, like a song bird,
to be free of my prison
i know that this self-imposed
pain in which my heart resides
is but a punishment of the self
for things that cannot be told
but rather lay hidden…
and I am lost to the ravages
of my own mind
a darkening that lingers within
my heart like a bleak warden
you
what longing i had for you
is outmatched by the emptiness
i feel within my heart…
for it’s not your absence that
causes me harm
but rather your presence-
lingering- that haunts
my waking steps
spinning
My head is a top
That won’t stop spinning
As if gravity doesn’t matter at all
And it’s wearing a hole
Where it’s turning
Making my soul thin and dizzy
holy holy
Between the inhale and the exhale
Lies the holy holy
A silent elixir of eternity
Would that I linger in that quiet darkness
To find riddles answered
And my heart consumed
oh! but for a moment,
to reach such eternity
and breath as one with divine
the SIBYL'S SONG 