CycyEnfeebled ageA cause to weepFrom pale blue eyesSoft and deepA mind that neverReached its peakA voice that rarelyEver speaksBones gnarledLike ancient vinesThey say it's justA short little timeThough she breathes inLittle gasps here and thereMuttering, humming againA simple womanLocked awayFamily goneSo here she staysIn this place ofgreat neglectFor we are ashamed of ageAnd of the imperfectlives touched by missing genesOr a few too manyShe shrinks away to nothingnessIn a drugged hazeNot seeing or caringOf the passing of daysUntil the pain of her mortal frameBreaks throughAnd her few words are expelledAnd there's nothing more to do…But wait and wait and waitMuch like she does, humming againWaiting to see an endTo the shameAnd emptinessOf this hazy existence.
clottedthoughtsInaction grips me in this stateAs ideas clot inside my brain…From my couch I watch the world go byFrom noon to sundown to somewhere aroundMidnightTaking walks and wandersIn searing sunlightMy life is so changedFrom the bustle and hurryOf my past.Here nothing, and I mean nothingMoves fast.Please…Motivation fails me withSo little to doBut so much at the same timeCan't focus on a single taskCan't comprehend so many tasksAt once.Stacks of papers to sortBoxes to unloadDishes to washClothes to foldDomestic goddess I am no longer.A little help please?My batteries are wearing downCan't run on foreverLike I was young…Simple words fail meIn conversation-Difficulty completing a thought.Stopping is easyStarting is notMy idea of fun.Something is not right hereThough things are okayIdeas are trapped insideMy mindAs words get in the wayLike an accident on the freewayBottlenecked, choked and crawlingSome ideas are choked to deathOn the mass exodusV
warfearI fear that day we part againWhen you head for sun and sandWith full battle gear onIn another foreign land…I fear the call that may comeOr notOr the visit by those who only know youAs the honorable soldierAnd me as spouseWho enter with apologies - empty words,well-rehearsedEchoing off the walls in our house.I fear the day we part againWhen you head for sun and sandWith weapons drawnFor another foreign land…I fear a change that is intangibleBut comes nonethelessFor the man who makes it homeDoesn't come back the sameAs he struggles with visionsNight and day of what was orCould have been.I fear the day we part againWhen you head for sun and sandEyes open and everywhereIn another foreign land…I fear a hospital visit, findingYou in that sanitary prison cellWhite tile and bright uniformsFalse hope and cheerfulness amidThe broken men,fractured spirits,altered futures.I fear the day we part againWhen you head for sun and sandDecked out in a new uniformIn an
FirstWarm hands glide upon my fleshTurning my bones into liquidAnd my mind into fire.What do you want from me?To be first.To be this closeTo feel your pulseTo hear you breathePlunges me into another world.My mind stops.You are so nervous.I tremble as well.What did you say?Remember.You are so close,Getting closerCloser still.Time stands still.Drawing me in with gentle hands.Lips meet in the darkness-Soft, warm, searching,An answered questionRaises so many more.What did I say?Unforgettable.I must have just thought it.Time stands still as we embrace.You release me for an instant.Stunned, I catch my breath.What do I say now?Nothing seems to fit.No time to react.My breath catches as youPull me in close again.
the call that changesA mid-week night, my cell phone beepedThree missed calls in an hour and messages to hearDialing the voicemail, mom's voice alrighthurried and desperatesomething's not right.Figuring it was more of the usualthe mother who feels all aloneher psychosis that comes and goesand when it comes, she's on the phone.She answered, voice shaking, hoarse with tearsand the words she utteredreached through time and spaceto the core of my childhood fears24 trips around the sun I've made,some with her, some withoutand in the moment that she told memy gut turned inside out. My knees turned to jelloand I sank to the floorwoman turned to child in meI didn't want to hear anymore.I wanted to retreat to make-believewhere bad things didn't occurat least not to good people...at least not to her.My mom is less than perfectshe may not have done everything rightbut she's still the one who gave me life,who boosted me when I was down,did her best without my dad aroun
ParanoiaParanoia settles in,I know my reserves are wearing thin…Stressed about making ends meet,About how many dimesWill get me down the street,Pained by excuses I haven't yet made,And the myriad I have.Who holds the bill?Who collects it all?If I slip in this mess,How hard is the fall?What if there's no bottom,And no roots to grasp?What if the what ifs keep comingRight up to my last gasp?Stressed by my shortcomings,Coming shorter by the day,No end to them at all,No possible way.
Breaking PointI'm reaching a point-A point… I don't know,Feeding emotionsThat I can't quite show.the past and the presentCoincide…Inseparable horror and pleasureBuild up inside.I open my mouth to speakBut silence pours forthAs I limit myselfFrom defining the sourceOf the pleasure or painWhich spins inside…Feeding emotionsThat I can't quite show,And cannot afford to hide.
trade-offThe individual assimilates into the collective...Trading off my youth forstability and responsibilityand a piece of paper on the wall.Looking in the mirrorI almost don't recognize me.The yesteryear daredevilcould pass for someone's momfor temptress trades withBusinessandNO ONE speaks of the PASTor the covered tattoothat speaks volumesof years gone by.Blink onceBlink twiceyep, I'm still me inside.The stranger blinks in the mirror,then winks mischievouslya few more lines mar the landscapeof her fair skinbut she still remembers.The stranger and I make an exitboth one and the sameinto the faceless crowdlosing our individualityto the adulthood realitywhere statements are spoken and notMADE.