Lost in wondering who I am today,
Cost of living for the current day.
Pictures of myself looking like a stranger,
Fixtures of typical I perceived as danger.
Tossed straight into the frigid bay,
Crossed easily by those who know the way.
Strictures of expectations, 'you must change her'.
Scriptures, theirs; an itchy manger.
I've severed my conscious from the backplates of my brain. I’ve pleated vine and cord through the cracks of my rib, bedsores spreading across my ever-paling appearance. I haven't left this hole in weeks.
I get nauseous at my own proof of life, conviction, correction of every flaw flowing out the gaps in my crooked mouth. I let insecurity envelop me, so I hide. I hibernate through nightfall and shorter sunshine. I paint powder over blemishes and broken bones. I crave to be coddled in frozen droplets and sheer fabrics that cool my skin; But I can't bear to be draped in anything but harsh winter coats and the pudge that distorts my figure.
Maybe, I'm addicted to hatred. A taste so strong I can only starve it out of my system - though I'd drown in the taste of every regret I've shoved down. Every loss of control is sharp at the end, blackening my ivories and souring my savory-sweet till I'm all overt ailment and I can't salt the snow that strikes me.
Over time, I've been pricked and prodded. What is now only winter breath replacing empty calories down my throat. What was once soft snowfall is now avalanche, and I can't bring myself to do anything but lay down and freeze.
I carried grief,
an ache deep in my chest,
each breath tight,
each step heavy,
my world closing
around the hurt that stayed.
I held that pain
in my hands,
turning it over and over
as if feeling it
kept me alive.
But time flows on
and even stones soften...
edges worn down
by patient currents.
One morning,
I set the stone aside.
Not because I forgot,
not because I excused,
but because I was tired
of dragging yesterday
into each tomorrow.
Forgiveness is not
a letting go meant only for me:
it is what saved my chest,
the breath that rebounded
the sky opening above.
It meets my eyes, a vacant stare.
In nakedness, it seems so bare.
What more of life is there to write?
Sunsets, dawn or the lovers' plight?
Plethora of words prance and tease,
seduce my heart, but give no ease,
instead run wild, like weeds untamed-
they have no form, no home or name.
Blank paper mourns like barren land
and whispers through its outstretched hand-
I'm fallow, yes, but I shall speak
of the secret potions that you seek.
Just trust, lay down your soul on me.
The muse will gush forth fruitfully.
Complete me with your seeds of lore,
open wide the sequestered door.
Let your passion descend like rain
upon this paper's barren plain.
Your inner sun guides what you know-
once bare pages, now a fertile meadow.
I lay down my thoughts like an endless river, as the sun sifts light at dawn,
I wish for you to smile, untouched by memories, without my heavy shadow, without the burden.
I see you walking down the old street in the sun, with ice cream melting on your fingers,
Among those who never doubted you, with eyes lit by untouched dreams.
I gave up the dream where I held you, in the crowd that whispered about us.
Perhaps it wasn't them, perhaps I was the executioner, my prayers, empty recitations.
I wonder if you would have met me, before life's masquerade ball,
What chance did a tall rose have, with a lotus blooming in murky waters?
Could your grace have transformed the swamp into a garden of shining stars?
Would your winds have carried the scent into my silent and deep ruin?
Or would my world carved from you have stained your soul's brilliance,
With the rust of unprotected things? How would your pure light shine in shattered mirrors?
Perhaps in a kinder life, you will find someone unafraid of your light,
Whose ruins know how to bloom, not bruise under my weight.
And if I am reborn in that hour, I will remain a shadow, watching you smile, from afar.
I lay down in bed at 9 PM, seeking peace in the darkness that envelops me,
beneath blankets that conceal the burden of a world full of noise and light,
where their laughter and joy intertwine with screams lost in the night,
paper hats flutter in shadows like faded dreams,
cars glide down streets, carrying women and drinkers,
in a procession of fragile hopes and unfulfilled desires,
in the muted roar of time passing mercilessly,
and none of this can dispel the fear that keeps me awake,
for the New Year frightens me with its hollow promises,
and life knows not the rhythm of years, only of moments slipping away,
in an endless dance, an illusion of change,
in a world that counts only the echoes of a single moment.
In this silence, I hear my thoughts flowing like a river of melancholy,
without a shore to embrace them, without an end,
and I wonder where all those years, those moments have gone,
and if tomorrow will bring more than another mirage,
or just another night to hide beneath blankets,
from the sounds that fade but never disappear.
Fear not of the undiscovered journey -
the soul’s compass will show you the way ~ the poet
When the curtain finally falls
and angels soft chimed voices calls
there are no mourning tears to seep
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Time to set forth upon my way
towards that honeyed, nectar ray
Pray not my dear loved ones to weep
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Shell left behind for pure sheer bliss
all mind’s attachments to dismiss
eternal life so shall I reap
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Loving arms gently guiding me
amongst heavenly sights I see
my saviour at my side to keep
Oh Lord, as I lay down to sleep.
Soul radiant as it takes flight
fleeing shackles from dark to light
Pray not my dear loved ones to weep
Oh Lord, I awake from deep sleep.
Lay down misère faceoff
In 500 card game
The open misère bid
To lose all tricks
Is a no-trump call.
There is nothing that beats that time
When I lay down that bed and close my eyes
I might have not done it well
Heck, I might not have done it at all
But whatever, it means I am getting rest
There is nothing that beats that moment
When every conscious thought escapes me
That feeling is just so freeing
I forget everything
I forget even myself
I am held up to nothing
There is nothing that beats the silence of the night
It becomes me
I don't have to wake for anything
There is nothing that beats early morning silence
When everything is yet asleep
Sure I am hurt a little
But with a cup of tea in one hand
And a book in the other hand
Trust me, I don't want to be going anywhere today
Doris's time is flying by,
She looks like she is about to die
Some people thought she was already dead
As in the obituary, they had read
Just that morning.
That Doris's family were mourning
Her demise.
A few weeks later
Doris was on an escalator.
Doris had a smile on her face
When she passed, her daughter Grace,
Going down the moving stairs.
Doris was going up the escalator,
Grace was going down,
Doris was wearing an elegant hat,
As she was going to town.
Doris was amused
That her dysfunctional family thought her dead
They had read the obit wrong,
It was Doris, Doris's friend instead!!
Doris may look old and grey,
But she lives to tell this tale today.
She Lay Down
with fantasies;
a warm surf ebbs inward.
His fullness fills her.
That night, more imaginings,
a magnetic need becomes
images, visions incarnate.
The morning finds her
washing her face,
watching the mirror blush.
Still the night in silence calm
Caress the ocean void at rest
Take notes to be on time
(as there is precious little left)
Build monuments to the invisibility of spirits
Rise with the morning dawning in a song
Pretend to be the wind’s last breath at rest
Lay down tomorrow as tomorrows never know
Remove mountains in your road
Remove trees along the timber line
Frolic in the meadows before they close
Take the flowers but not the roses
Pray to God to wake you up before it’s over
Steal the bread but not the soul of heaven
Caress the ocean void at rest
Last until your last breath
I dreamed of you last night, you wore a smile
Fifty years ago you took your life
And left me for the agony, the trial
Since then I’ve had no vision but denial
Your face was absent,cut out by a knife
I dreamed of you last night, your little smile
There was no motive, we had never quarreled
I was blinded, nervous and too shy
You left to me the agony, the trial
Who consoles the woman left in horror?
Sickly on my lonely bed I lay
I dreamed of you last night, you wore a smile
In my view, I could not see tomorrow
Through my suffering I did try to pay
You left to me the agony, the trial
The grief of fifty years has gone away
Oh, lay down, baby,lay down, baby lay
I dreamed of you last night, your face your smile
You consoled me then, old lovers reconciled
Lay Down My Soul
Lay down my soul
Please Take a rest
Cease striving
and have peace
The time has come for rest to stay
The weariness to cease
Lay down my soul
and dry your tears
Forget about the wasted years
Rise up my spirit
and move on
Towards your destiny
My spirit rise, my soul lay down
Be all that you can be
Lay down my soul
The peace that comes will overflow
The joy will know no bounds
Lay down my soul
And know the One
That's called you to this day
Rise up my spirit
Dwell in hope
My Jesus shows the way!
Grace Daub
January 27, 2010
. for public domain
Set fire to our mothers' graves,
frenetic genetics is all the rave,
give "Yesterday" a parting wave,
reeling feelings now enslaved.
Exchange a useless past for "Now",
the Broken Tablets, the Golden Cow.
Feel the breeze, the chill, the bone,
bow to Nothing, burn the throne.
Low chants that leave no hollow echo,
betoken the trim of New Age deco.
Holding flames against the rain,
condemned to repeat, we start again.
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