I asked my Mother
on a cool, gray blue morning
what Projections are,
the projections of passions
pouncing proudly
within the poetry of reality,
She said, with woed eyes,
Sometimes peoples' brains
become burdened like a mirror
with too many faces to appease,
disease from judgement, the jeer,
the lear, fear of another's unempathetic ear,
the stress to confess our duress,
our confusion of camellion countenance,
so we project pictures into the lenses
of other's law fire,
pictures that protect us from uninvited pain,
I watched the corner of her mouth
divet from the embarrassment
of disillusionment,
She continued with necessary nerve,
We also judge ourselves into volatile
escapes that steer us away
from vulnerability's virtue,
we create self fullfilling prophecies
of people's positions on our hearts,
We sometimes conjure demons
of self defeat that feast fast
on the devestation of our desires
cackling at the carcass
of our crashed confidence,
My Mother looked at me slow,
with a low heat in her voice, saying
You must trust Yourself
to be Yourself...
J.A.B. 2023
Categories:
divet, love, mental health,
Form: Epic
Silence is all I hear,
Trapped in a box with no memory of coming to be,
Wondering what lays beyond the box,
A world void of all color,
Where time stands eternally still,
And silence snakes it's way about the barren land,
Quieting out the sounds of a world that does not,
Nor never was meant to exist?
This box must have a key,
There must be a way out,
But there are no doors or windows,
Just stark white walls around me.
I can't help but feel like a caged beast,
Left out in the wilderness to starve in it's trap,
To decay into nothing, to remain,
For no wind will ever carry through this vacant dimension.
Eyes full of fear, I frantically search,
But find no divet or crack to slip my nails into,
I'm stuck, and I fear there is no escaping,
For I must have wished for such quiet,
And that wish has been fulfilled.
No song bird will fill it with it's melodious voice,
No brook shall ever babble,
No wind will whistle through the trees,
These thoughts in my head will never speak
But whisper only one word,
...hush.
Categories:
divet, confusion, fear, places, world,
Form: I do not know?