He held her memory fiercely dear
away at war these long-lost years
Her haloed hair, her velvet touch
he yearned for them so very much
So sweetly did she sing his given name
what he wouldn’t give to hear its strain…
While as she called him night and day
no flood of tears could wash her love away...
Though it was surely true what some dared say
a flame enclosed her as she prayed
A mother’s lap of gentle grace.
Side table set with Gospel light.
Sans Doctor Spock, God’s brilliance.
Instilled the worth of womb and tears,
Of blood and nails, and Shepherd’s crook.
Breaking fluid, warmth, and swaddle.
Suspense of hope, faith, love and mirrors.
Reflection of mother and child.
A stable environment.
Made visible -
A star one night,
To find our way home.
Joseph couldn’t have dreamt
Of a better home -
His dreams bigger
In the hands of the Father.
Mother Mary fed the King of kings
before Christ fed the crowd
with multiplying bread and fish.
Joseph taught Jesus carpentry.
As Christ touched the wood,
Did His palms ache?
Without Joseph,
at the foot
of the crucifix,
a flood of tears;
red cheeks.
A mother’s lap of gentle grace
not forgotten -
in agony, Christ remembers
her great sacrifice.
Just like a weeping cello
I sing my melody out loud
The strings of my heart bleed as those of a weeping cello
I call out to the god of sorrow
Oh rainy day of my eyes as a storm churns inside me
Oh sweet saint of melody
Heal a heart with thorns and nails
What I feel is an evil unwashed, a flood of tears
But that's what you'll never see in my eyes
The Vulnerability is not mine but the sorrow to keep
Today was no different from any other,
Yet for some reason I felt sad and depressed.
It began just fine and seemed pretty normal,
When all of a sudden, a dark cloud overcame me and I was stressed.
So I immediately looked to how this storm developed,
Bringing all this anxiety and worry in its crest.
And while I've never claimed to be a weatherman,
I can see high and low pressure systems, with the best.
My review and analysis then began to show me,
Where the fair weather was about to rapidly change.
It was initially far off and in the distance,
To the point that I didn't feel it was all that strange.
This is where my ignorance would fail to recognize,
Just how fast the environment can morph and surprise.
So now I'm filling bucketfuls that overflowed retention,
While stopping a flood of tears, so I can depressurize.
The Hurricane and Florida
The green valley near the blue lake
It sounds like a color combination by a happy incident
it was the weather of the day that made nature
impossible romantic
near the lake where Pink Salmond swam and
silver trout vake, in a cave, the Huldra lived
She was beautiful, but not by a human standard
her pussy hair was so long it covered her body
like a hairy curly suit
Could she sing, not half?
snow on mountain tops melted, and bears woke up
from winter rest, blueberry blued in April
I sensed attraction to her splendor but did not see
she had a tail, my ardor cooled
as the old tale tells, humans and trolls do not
mix, life is best lived along racial lines
I had to reject her, but by doing so, she released
a flood of tears that released a surge that was sensed
all the way to Florida
Thoughts shot like black darts
Ricocheting in decaying glass hearts
So uninspired so much to be desired
Black and white lines crossed tossed
I’m the piano playing out of tune
I’m poinsettia’s of black bloom
I’m the one that got away to soon
The flood of tears your fears of monsoon
Red tide inside of passions death
Never did lie to you lied to myself
Cried musical tears turquoise blue
Rebirth is near and I feel brand new
Winds within wild and free
Shedding my skin a spiritual healing
Was disappointed turned into anointing
Feeling tides teal rides of what will be
Lord, it is dark inside and darker out,
and black thunderous rainstorms thunder by
blessing the tiller, the grower in drought
but Lord, not all that rages is the sky.
Behold, I am drowning but not yet drowned,
an ordinary man and nothing more
on a quest to find hitherto unfound
the heat of passion that begins the thaw.
In the sum of all hurt this I must bear -
that I too have known the seasons of drought,
and washed am I in a cold bath of fear
by life’s flood of tears and love’s well of doubt.
Still the ground I till lays fallow and torn
but for the pricking briar and piercing thorn.
Written: July 1997
It's another sleepless night
I feel like giving up in this fight
The pills I take for the pain
But the sadness remains
I ask myself how I can take control
In my mind, I'm not that old
Sometimes depression is hard to bear
Every day I say so many prayers
This life of mine was always worth living
But something in my life is still missing
I have a flood of tears inside of me
I guess I feel something inside of me already died
During the day I show people I'm happy
But at night I know I'm unhappy
Sometimes you never want to wake up
But I know the next day my sadness will still be stuck
I guess inside my life is dying
And I keep asking myself why do I keep on trying
Today the doctor is helping me with my depression
And I hope he will lead me in the right direction
Inside of me, there is a happy person, whom I want to be
But in life, we know there is no guarantee
It's 2 a.m., and my bed is soggy.
A flood of tears has come to me,
Rain outdoors reflects my soul's pain,
I struggle throughout the night in the pitch dark.
A lone tear with every drop that falls
A sad story about the façade of love,
The sheets are saturated with memories from the past.
A love that could not endure forever.
Despite the rain, hope persists.
A ray of hope amid the agony,
My heart will mend because it is made to last, and the storm will eventually pass.
I'm scared I don't fathom my soul
With sense, I may not have control.
Perhaps I'll ne'er see it clearly
Lord, kindly have mercy on me.
The truth that lies beneath this sham,
Do I break my heart like a dam?
Am I one who loves, or beastly
Lord, kindly have mercy on me.
At times I'm a sear flood of tears.
Always bleeding drowning in fears.
Awed heart, a soul that can't foresee
Lord, kindly have mercy on me.
Candle holders midst of darkness
A pleasant sight to see thee there
But that I'm in vale of death
In world of thine I'm nowhere
With grief that mingling in the hues
With loss, regret ,thine eyes are wet
O Lying in the heart of Earth
With fear and awe I drown in sweat
O love of Lord O come by me
Take hands of mine in hands of Thine
O candle holders thou can go
I lit the dark with heart of mine
With lamps of eyes with flood of tears
That shed on Earth in deep regret
In loss in pain , O all in vain
But now that Sun of life hath set
Thy channels all I trode in life
And worshipped thee in sun in rain
O Lit my world with lamps of Sky
My Lord here I'm in the lane
With those who lead but life of pain
With those whose only hope is you
With those Who live there all in vain
Who searched in world but Thy footnotes
In sands in seas in woods in green
O send for them thy airy boats
And call them to Thy Eden Green
"A dagger of pain, a tear of grief,"
by Constance La France"
Pain, like a dark secret, will descend
it cares not how we fit into life
a recurring nightmare with no end
stabbing senses with razor-sharp knife
It transforms joy into hills of strife
Myriad ways for grief to consume
Disbelief midst the thickness of gloom
a flood of tears, like waves being tossed
hours alone, darkness fills the room
The heart is covered with bitter frost
Grief overwhelms as sadness invades
it's as if life has closed window shades
sadness finds the core of our being
fragile hopefulness becomes decayed
we need sun's exhuberant healing
Letting light in, we begin to feel
blossoms, trees, sunsets are again real
Brightly, sunlight glows warm on our face
Opening eyes, a promise reveals
the entire world for us to embrace.
May 15, 2023
for "Writing Challenge - A Quotes
by Constance La France
What a sad day it was on the fifth day of June
Death being so greedy visited Saint Francis in about noon
And a beautiful sunny day was thrown into shade
Man's wickedness to man makes my heart fade
For Nigeria, I'm tired of daily writing a dirge
But these recurrent events cause a verge of tears as we sit on the edge
Whether east or west we're covered with shame
But sadly our leaders run after fame
The tragedy in the land of Owo
Like others punctured our national honour
What's is left is a pontification
From a lack of good evaluation
Alas, I'm shattered as I mourn the dead
Maybe I should mourn Nigeria instead
The land of Owo was thrown into flood of tears
What score is ever worth a fellow's tears
I saw among those that have died
Some eminent people that had nowhere to hide
We're like lilacs or lilies that love to blossom
But this nation shades us with boredom
We live in the land of fury
Where we can't trust the jury
But I'm sure that the brains behind this continuous massacre
Will sooner face their negative karma
O child of stone, outcast, alone,
succumbing to desire.
Inside your chest, you’re sorely pressed,
assailed by a liar.
Do not believe the tales it weaves:
the lost, untethered heart.
Though it deceives, it silent grieves
the time it spends apart.
When realized, it bitter cries
for wounds it did impart,
and scarce conceives, much less receives
the grace of a fresh start.
But when it breaks, all of that ache,
like scales, just falls away.
A flood of tears, to be drawn near,
says what no words can say.
Your Father sates, and yet He waits
for you to freely turn.
Climb in his chair, incline your ear,
and hear what your soul yearns.
Child, fall asleep to rhythms deep:
a heart that fiercely burns.
Ah, to be blessed, and find the rest
your strivings never earned!
Crying a flood of tears,
Always having those fears
Of trusting others.
Life still dissatisfying even with brothers.
Cutting one self open,
Writing with blood.
Always feeling lonely and homely,
Hopelessly waiting
For the one & only,
So hurt...
Believing that everything is deceiving,
Thinking that she's only dreaming...
Killing just to see if she
Will go into her true awakening.
Bloody writings,
Left behind,
Writing in blood saying,
"There is no point in living."
She was one of a kind,
So now they wonder,
Why writing in blood
Was all she left behind.
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