Shackled II

Bare foot lay sideways, cold against the floor

My right shoe; shackles where there were laces.

My hands reached out, begging to find the key

Searching the dark room, a needle in hay.

My hurt and fears bound to my bounded foot

My tears and hopes held by encrusted chains.

Crying, nothing but an echoing voice

Looped circles; a deathly merry go round.

The key could hear, I could feel its presence

Calling out.. mockingly?  It must be near!

My bonds kept me from earning salvation

How does one move forward, while in the past?

A twist of metal!  As one link gave way

As if unseen forces, recognized pain.

My reach was the same, though my spirit rose

I understood, what was needed of me.

My path had been rough, so I donned a mask

Locking out all the world and all its joys.

I now lay shackled to what I’ve become

Captive to the world of my own making.

I was kept in isolation by force

A masked shadow cooed and held my hand.

Now I knew what I should have known before

One must move forward, and unchain the past.

The shackle gave way;  the chain turned to dust

I remained seated on the ice cold slab.

I was free to go on, living in dark
Or give up my bonds, my mask, and my fears.

Shackled

I was shackled to my hurt and all my tears

Forced to reconcile all my hope and all my fears

The key to salvation lay at my unshoed feet

My arms outstretched, yet I could not seem to reach

My happiness was bound to sorrow and regret

I crawled and cried to those who seemed not to relent

The chance to fix it all appeared a bleak and hopeless task

For like myself, my captor wore nothing but a mask

Hurdles lay before me, like bones left of the dead

Inching forward on hands and knees, crawling to be fed

The blood lay cold. Pooled. Nothing. Stagnant ponds.

Black and thick, the evidence of players and of pawns

I was shackled to my hurt and to all of my tears

I reconciled my ignorance with all of my fears

The key to my salvation lay at my sawed off feet

My arms outstretched, yet they still could not be reached

Black and Blues 2014

The brothers and the sisters

And all of the well wishers

The bastards and the legitimates too

The beater and the broken

And those with crimes unspoken

They’re all waiting for their next cue

The hero and the coward

And those that are devoured

The too many and the too few

The lowly and the highly

All of those who follow blindly

They’re all singing the black and blues

                You sing high or you sing low

                You set sail or say land ho

                You do what you do ‘cause you do it so well

               

                You try hard or not so much

                You say it’s  go, or say it’s touch

                You do what you do ‘cause you got a story to tell

The misters and the misses

And all the little kisses

The spinsters and the bachelors woo

The sinners and the saints

And the ones who say they ain’t

They’re all waiting in the next pew

The slow dogs and the cool cats

And all the hungry street rats

They’re all trying to get a view

The blessed and the meek

And those who seem so chic

They’re all singing the black and blues

                You sing high or you sing low

                You set sail or say land ho

                You do what you do ‘cause you do it so well

               

                You try hard or not so much

                You say it’s  go, or say it’s touch

                You do what you do ‘cause you got a story to tell

Goodbye

Puffed cigarettes and lies

Wine and heartfelt tries

Promises and cries

Early morning goodbyes

Broken words and lies

Questions and surprise

Pleading and cries

Late night goodbyes

Ignorance and lies

Blindness and broken ties

Disbelief and cries

Only silent goodbyes

Nothingness and lies

Empty phone and empty lines

No longer any cries

Goodbye. Goodbye

I Am

I am many things

I cry when I’m forlorn

I carry the tears with me

Perhaps for much too long

I am many things

I trust with all my heart

I give freely of my soul

Not only just a part

I am many things

I smile with delight

At the simplest things

Even those that might seem trite

I am many things

I dance when no one’s near

I embrace the feelings of myself

And reject my inner fears

I am many things

I’m angered by things unjust

I turn crimson at the thought

At all the misplaced trust

I am many things

I am a woman. I am a girl

I bend. I crack. I break.

Yet still as precious as a pearl.

image:  Woman Under a Red Umbrella.  P. Awapara

Not Guilty

I need no favors, if you care to give

I need no tries

I need nothing explained to me

I can barely look you in the eyes

An omission for the “good” of me

Is the reason you have claimed

An omission is nothing more than a lie

Just wrapped in honey, so you can’t be blamed

Memories show, like moving pictures

Reflected on my face

Trust is shattered, like broken glass

I have been cut by poetry wrapped, in lace

My worn and torn heart was shattered

You were trying to make it whole

Then you chose a different path

Disregarding the friendship of our two souls

You were a rock, a friend of mine

A person unlike anyone

Yet the smoke still lingers in the air

As you hold the smoking gun

“Not guilty” is the plea you chose

As you caused another crack

“Not guilty” to the deception you untold

As I remove the knife from my back

The Struggle

I'm struggling to be here
In a world that’s barely a day
To wake up each morning to nothingness
And put on my makeup of gray

To line my eyes with coal
To brush my cheeks with dust
To coat my lashes with sludge
To cover my lips with mistrust

What is the point of my being here,
To prove that I was borne?
Existing is nothing to being alive
As dying is nothing to being mourned

Why go through life unloved,
Like a cup or a balloon?
I served my purpose, for a time
Soon my parts will be shattered and strewn

For no one loves a cup
And little life, has a balloon
One is a vessel to serve one’s needs
The other a bubble to be harpooned