Less Than Ideal

Image result for broken things

Hold the broken pieces in your hand of the vase you bought,

So perfect, not quite the same as the one you really wanted,

But almost perfect enough that you glue the pieces back

Though it can never hold real flowers in water again.

 

So it holds silk flowers-

silver medal never gold,

Second best never good enough

As the first, the original.

Now it’s flawed forever

Scarred forever marred forever.

 

Can never hold water again.

Can never be whole again.

Can never be perfect again.

Can never be the one you said you wanted.

Can only be hidden, faced to a wall,

Boxed up locked up

Might as well be thrown away

For it’s not worth the effort

To recycle reuse repurpose

The pieces into something

more beautiful than the original.

 

It’s not worth the effort to love it more now

Than when you bought it…

Because it isn’t what you wanted in the first place.

Last Request

Now I lay me down to sleep.

For my bones, do not weep.

 

I do not lay here wanting grief;

In my rest I’ve found relief.

 

No more worrying over day to day affairs;

No more crying over unhappy cares.

 

In the earth I now have peace;

In the quiet all has ceased.

 

All my sorrows are washed away;

No more suffering, no more dismay.

 

Weep not, I say, for what is gone

Look to others, look to your own.

 

Care for those who continue to struggle,

Care for those who cannot juggle

 

The mind’s chess game with them as pawn.

Weep for the living, those who walk alone.

 

Turn your eyes and hands to them,

Let your love be their stem.

 

For it may be their life was spared

Because of you and those who cared

 

To see the pain behind their tears,

Who understood and calmed their fears.

 

Then come the morning and the rising sun

Come to me and say, “Thy will was done.”

 

And I will smile in my sleep

Because you did not weep.

 

*Probably a good idea to not snack too close to bedtime…you know, in case you wake up crying from a dream you can’t remember and the lines to a poem running through your head and neither will let you get back to sleep.

Dancing Stars

If you love her

make her shine.

Make her glow where all can see.

For star she was and star she is,

and star she always will be.

 

Make her shine

bright as the moon,

bright as the moon at sea.

For love will do

as love has done

for all eternity.

 

And in the end

she’ll know your love

was her’s with certainty.

So make her shine,

Make her glow,

And she’ll love fearlessly.

 

*Sometimes, you just need time, space, and quiet to heal and recharge. ❤

Matins

What thoughts endeavor to pierce the brain

as we keep watch in the darkling night,

the slumbering stillness

of the breath held

until the stars blink and yawn, stretch,

and fade with the lightening sky.

 

While the earth waits and shadows play games,

visions of past wrongs accuse,

demand justice: atonement or forgiveness,

and peace comes on the horizon

by light or by blood.

 

*Had a completely different poem enter my head but I was caught in the middle of something and couldn’t write it down right away. The only line that I kept was “by light or by blood”. I was thinking of a story I heard about the Crusades, how the men would keep watch in the night before battle and other similar stories. I then had a memory of someone telling me long ago that matins was a version of that (to keep evil from coming in the night) and my brain correlated that with depression. Many is the time I have battled my thoughts in the dark and with the dawn sleep came, and a small semblance of peace. But there were times when, in the darkest point of the night, that I thought I wouldn’t make it. By light or by blood; life or death.

Judgment Day

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Run.

White wraiths across the rocky ground

Like foxes to their burrows.

Run from death’s heralds as they watch

From hidden places

Behind barren trees,

Appear up from the soil,

Black clad figures, ragged robes abrading the ground,

They follow

With skeletal hands outstretched

To snatch life away,

Unforgiving predators chasing pale, flightless birds.

 

Run.

Chase the pill with the bottle,

The needle into the vein.

Fly the high to heaven’s gate

Till hell brings you back again.

From hidden places,

Behind dumpsters and cardboard boxes,

Appear ghosts from fevered dreams.

No life everlasting,

Mortal flesh decaying,

We lay on marble thrones,

As the wind whines through our bones.

 

*this is what happens when you begin writing a zombie story while listening to Sia’s Loved Me Back to Life.

And the Rain Still Falls

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Through my tears I hear a sound

Meant for me alone.

Faintly at first,

Then growing nearer.

The darkness that enfolds me

Is but a faint echo

Of the torment my soul hides.

The night closes in on me,

Accepting me,

Sheltering me.

Closer now,

Louder,

The beating of drums.

Or is it my heart,

Long dead inside this shell

Called a body?

 

And still the rain falls

Around this empty soul

And what the rain hides

Remains a mystery.

For who knows

When the sun will shine again

On this darkening land?

Who knows when

The light will fill this beating heart

Just barely alive

Inside this body.

 

And the autumn forest

Hides all with its deadening leaves,

Covering the earth

With a blanket of mist.

And yet, a lone voice can be heard

Through the stillness.

The sweetness of its sound

Wails through the trees

And fills the void.

 

A shadow of what it once was,

The forest comes alive

With the dawning of a new day.

But the soul that hides inside its shell

Folds deeper inside the darkness.

The sound I hear still beats,

And I am still cold,

And the rain still falls.

 

*Throwback Thursday poem: one I wrote when I was 27. I was halfway through my custody battle with my ex-husband at the time and I was also dealing with feelings of jealousy and learning to overcome that battle. I am very pleased to say I did win that war (with jealousy, that is). I still get pangs from time to time depending on the situation and what is otherwise occurring but I remind myself of how small it makes me feel and how alone, and the feeling goes away.