Long Flashbacks Poems
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It leads back to the day...
When the formula of perfection was mastered within the voices
of five silhouettes...
Jina, Tara
Shannon, Trena and lastly... Tiffany.
The last that entered this family unit instantly;
With opened arms that was engaged with acceptance and
stability.
For the harmony of these five angels bought happiness, peace,
and satisfaction; especially in the eyes and heart of our king and hero
known as Mr. Roy Saxon.
And as the harmony of voices reached its peak within the lime green home
on Noble/ Monticello...
Tiffany steps out and begins to sing her solo of thanks and
appreciation to her father, and joy... her invaluable Uncle Roy
who taught her the way of God's
Love, faith, and unity that touched and captured the soul amidst the guest of
friendly fellows...
"I could never give back the token of love that you bought into my life".
For
You are the man who turned from my uncle into my father
overnight... and
With that being said...
You'd always jump on me; hitting me upside my head and said
"Hey Kathy!"
All because of that damn t-shirt granny bought and gave to
thee.
From family gatherings to whatever's today's happenings;
there's always a time when you're happy yelling out my adoptive name of
Kathy.
For I still have flashbacks from a floppy tennis shoe; you used in your
rendition of Hee-Haw while dancing around in a circle laughing and saying...
"Kathy, Kathy"; Which is branded and will always be;
Even you had granny calling me Kathy just between you and
me.
So with that being said...
You are my gift from God; my magic rock and stand.
What more can I say?
You embody the royalty of the Saxon name and made it classy.
With all of our love...
Jina, Tara, Shannon, Trena and "KATHY"
Standing upon the roof top,
watching her brothers walk to school,
Rekha reminisces about her playground,
full of childhood innocent smiles.
A sole kite decorated in orange and red,
floats in the morning breeze,
Rekha feels her soul tug at her heart strings -
yearning for such freedom to roam.
A martyr to dowry, a casualty of sacrifice.
What Rekha's parents thought
was an escape from poverty,
has made her a prisoner of brutality.
Scolded for too much sugar in chai,
water being too warm,
chapatti not being round.
Cursed and beaten like a stray dog,
for being unable to work fast enough,
because she can't walk nor raise her arms,
after being repeatedly raped last night -
by a man old enough to be her father.
Sickened by flashbacks of how
his saliva dripped on her like rotten fish.
Extreme nausea from his strong touch
felt like cockroaches and beetles
were crawling inside her flesh,
but no one heard her screams.
They just shut their doors, bolted their windows,
as he grabbed her neck with his dirty claws -
she wished he would have choked her!
Suffering in silence, the pain is too much,
her parents cannot rescue her.
Rekha wishes she could sleep forever,
because the bleeding won't stop and
her bruised body is slowly breaking,
like a porcelain doll with cracks,
living in an endless nightmare.
Her mind in a state of arrested development,
questions the purpose of existence.
Rekha stands on the ledge,
waits until her brothers are out of view,
waves the world goodbye,
she is fragile like a kite,
but cannot fly.
Rekha was only twelve..
I once owned a uniform that shone in pride
The polished brass, creases and lines
An army of friends and civilian respect
I marched upon every street, placed every laureate
The glowing admiration, the tireless market
Of gazing faces that sung even to the heartless
Badgered by memories that I couldn’t forget
Now withered and worn the years of regret
My mental battle the suffering toll of silence
No words I could mouth about the raw entirety
Flashbacks of those wars supplying me
But I sit a cluster of before
My battlefield a daily occurrence of aimlessly wandering
In routine emergence
of seeking cigarette butts and borrowing more time and beer
To drown out the battle none but mine could hear
I clamber from bush broken sunlight, coughing up
The empty sobriety of reality
Just a used device a human resource
Hoodwinked and lead noose in ignorant obligation
A never-ending instigation from mind emancipation
From this dumb founded degree of humiliation
Drunken laughter upon this man once bold
Pissing on the soul, and soles of my ragged boots I couldn’t maintain or even hold
Completely neglected by all I did serve
Now served by a starvational solitude
A face that none could remember, a shadow of my youth
Just aloof, wandering every day until my feet give up from the holes in my boots
Until I drop dead like the rest of the ‘glorious dead’
Should have been left with my rifle on a battlefield proper
Something my mind could accept, something I would now offer.
And who would care and would begin to wonder
Who these men were and why in such slumber
After all I am just a homeless soldier.
Splitting straws reveal tears of unfair truth
long and short of it bugs with ugly voices swear
Finding you are under the carpet
hiding inside echoes disturbing peace
The breaking point makes a stand rightly silence
shattering glass on the surface breaks code
Mirrored reflection flashbacks past repeating sins
Playing the same old downer breaking feelings
Rewinding backwards sorry does not get it anymore
That shows a moon's face upside down frowning
Thanking the lucky stars above
in destinies quest unfolding
We all know our soul purpose love remains true
there we see the snake that holds chains hurt
Legion of cold icy rain runs down the cheeks
demon your breath touches deep a fired memory
Torturing a body heart and mind aches with grief
Loveless my eyes just swam away lost direction
Caught drifting on cloud nine of your breath
frozen particles remain completely cold
spawning new direction forward and out
She was 5.
Not a glimpse of sadness in her eyes
Full of life
Then one day, She met you at 5
Next door neighbor , Not a fear in sight
She climbed into the treehouse with you on her right
That was when she had to fight to get your hands off of her, To cry out but none to help her, She just cried unable to stop you,
You put sadness in her eyes.
Took the innocence out of her life, Took her spark with you
Her eyes now empty, No spark no innocence. Just the tears you caused when you hurt her, Took her childhood away from her.
Now shes 18 and got ptsd, Trying to live her life, yet you still haunt her
Panic attacks and flashbacks,
She wishes she could go back and save herself when she was 5,
She was 5 when you took her life from her eyes,
She was 5.
-E.B.
Since childhood,
as alexithymia struck my soul.
I kept all my hopes a secret,
hidden in a bucket of unshared dreams.
I kept my soul sweet like marshmallows,
but life has finally caught up with me,
Like a fast car overtaking recklessly,
leaving me behind in the slow lane -
and I'm running out of fuel.
I'm a vehicle of flashbacks from flashlights,
fatigued from embracing the old,
preparing for freshly brewed emotions.
Yet they deprive me at every dawn,
as new beginnings are always challenging.
Suffocating in this silent selcouth slumber,
life tries to call my bluff, when it knows,
I am the master of my masquerade.
My soul pleads with fate to usher me with belief,
but I can see death at my doorstep,
creating intrusive insecurities like termites,
eating away at branches of my sanity,
feeding upon my ordained Orphic glory.
Emotions are an interior mechanism,
so many remain fooled by my exterior,
but I'm tired of searching for salvation.
You who claim to love me,
gift me a scented candle made with your hands,
so its sentimental scent can bring me peace.
Take me to a place without a name,
without a label,
without judgment -
without suffering.
Unchain me from jeapordising January jitters.
Free me from meandering in misty meadows,
which have misplaced me in foggy morning sunshine -
bring me clarity.
These are not random thoughts, random poems,
because my ink is tired from trying to find new metaphors,
to supplement an abundance of alliterations,
portraying humble happy horizons.
Love can be a false emotion,
when we yearn for reciprocal ravishing redamancy,
but when was love ever equal or even fair?
I have no resolutions, just to breathe with ease.
Sometimes love's presence made me feel aesthetic,
but sometimes a badly drawn self portrait.
You can stay or leave, but do come back,
hold on, but not too tight that it chains my wings.
When I ascend, please, miss me,
so my spirit flies back to you.
Can you not see the irony?
We accumulate many reasons to die,
but search for only one reason to live.
Ask yourself which oxymoron are you?
Dying to live or living to die?
*Alexithymia
A person's inability to recognise or describe ones own emotions
* Redamancy
a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return
Twilight's Reflection's
A Tribute To" Mr. G"
By: Tom Wright
5/29/99
In life's twilight, your youth, having long been spent.
I've observed you pass the hours, reading western novels,
visiting with friends who drop in or phone,
and reflecting to those times long ago, before your back was bent
and children moved away.
To a time when others were dependent upon you
and possibly giving you feelings of greater importance.
But then, this was many Surgeries and miles of Ace bandages ago--
Before your steps slowed and a cane became a part of your daily attire.
"Mr. G", be thankful that God, has blessed you with sound mind
to recall memories of older friends and loved ones, though most are now gone.
Through flashbacks, You can relive a life spent with Sister Helen,
your garden, and your fishing trips.
You've said many times, "Oh how she loved to fish".
Maybe you reflect back to times when you felt more important?
Or at least you were made to feel that way by friends and associates.
Perhaps that was before your mature years.
But maybe you should think of current times,
of the changes seen and lessons learned in your ninety five years.
The lessons, that often you paid an enormous price to learn, you give away.
Of the things that only few know, have seen, and remain to speak of.
Of the tracks you have made in your life and once more you should see,
You are still important!! In closing, I, [Tom] am persuaded.
That nothing really matters, that all is vanity.
For all that I have accomplished, or will accomplish in this life,
will be as filthy rags in the sight of God.
My casket will not be equipped with saddlebags.
I arrived at this party with nothing and will leave the same way.
The life I live in Christ, and the treatment of my fellow man,
are the things that matter.
These alone, will stand the test of fire.
God speed
Thoughts drifting
through my mind
Memories
that make me blind
To what I have
in life today
They pull me in
and I fade away
Back to a time
that has long past
I retreat to the child
who's future seemed cast
By others actions
unable to control
The events that damaged
an innocent soul
I cringe at the memories
in anguished pain
As i cringed from the dreadful
violence in vain
Once more in helplessness
I begin to drown
And I feel my soul
on the road to breakdown
I struggle to swim
out of this well
Of recollections
of a living hell
I make myself think
of the good times instead
Flush pointless flashbacks
out of my head
All so long ago
so far in the past
I climb into my boat
and cling to the mast
The mast is my strength
the boat is today
From the sea of history
I'm sailing away
As it made me who I am
of my past I'm accepting
Having lived compassionately
good future I'm expecting
I chose not to stay a victim
but an honest winner
And I forgive all the wrongs
as I too am a sinner
But I made my own way
and I made my own choices
Heard plenty of advice
from too many voices
So I took the gemstones
from amongst it all
Made them mine
and stood up tall
The past may come back
at times to bite me
I know just to squash it
like a pesky little flea
Rub salve on the wound
and walk away
And live in the now
here for today
Determined to be grateful
for the times I've burnt
Each bad experience
is a new lesson learnt
Goodness and wrongness
all lead me to be
A person who is strong
empathetic and free
You may hurt my temple
but not my belief
This simple truth
is such sweet relief
No need to struggle
in that sticky marsh
The awful muck
that makes my heart harsh
Put up the sail
of this boat of mine
And sail away
my soul sublime
There's an obscurity on the threads of darkness
dare I peer beneath the starless shroud of midnight's veil
as I walk through the misty breath that beclouds my vision
in hopes it leads me to the temple of your soul? My dearest
my comfort is there, yet I feel a quivering in the flames
beneath these gusts that prevail through inaudible voices falling
winded in the distance where these shadows walk between us
I feel discernment in memories as these bony fingers reach out
my heart shudders beneath the orchestra of night as it beckons
a samba from the angel of death as it spans its wings before me
I shiver breathless in its cold as the flames grow dimmer
yet this time love, I fear for you as dissolution ascends above me
Muddled mind ventures through vivid vales of scepticism.
Slowly subsiding to my knees under the shadow of moonlight,
crows gathers as helpless hands clench decomposing soil.
Sapless lips gasp for oxygen, shivering in illusory mistiness.
Death's harbinger stands before me, an uninvited hooded eclipse,
holding me prisoner, strangling my soul with naked tree tendrils.
In silent steps he walks towards me, I have no will left to fight.
He has no mercy, content on me kissing the mouth of the earth.
Words hidden behind metaphors, surface upon shores of regret,
flashbacks are like daggers, reminders of unspoken, unwritten words.
My love mourn for me not, as I fall into the graveyards of poets,
in death we still connect, as my words will always live through you.
A Collaboration with Silent One~
“Rewind Forward”
Memory mirror
supple sylph yields
and naked
walks through liquid glass
towards your dark eyes
to float in black
legs wrapped
rapture drawn deep
unclothed into your arms
bathed bare
you climb my mountains
pull me in
your fingers coiled
tight and unforgiving
around my silken hair
mouth drawn to bare
omni amor libido
opalescent skin glistens
slow dance
silence listens
caught in time
elementals float in the aether
no walls no stairs no roads
bodies in rhythm rhyme -
in your dark mirrors
are all my blue skies -
dream duelling flames
tongues do not speak
they torch a burning blaze
there are no nights
there are no days
two flaming souls
deep dive
erotic waves
they read no maps
trysting in their lovely trap
Pantoums
each the other world
Phantom
opium kissed lips
repeat repetition
Ships lost at sea
in our ghost myst
a fierce longing
a holy confederacy
Kisses long and languid
Luscious long neck licks
Drink my life
Your need is met
my mead is sweet
and want is whet
Honey swallowed
lost in the love
love in the lost
trapped in the net
an open cave
doorway
where lush moss
waits wet
treasure found
treasure kept
sensual salty
her sea is met
pounds to your
foreign uncharted shore
two rare pearls
are free yet
bound and kept
on the other side
awake forever
with the never slept
hearts open
wounds bleeding
turn the key
Mirror Memory
(LadyLabyrinth/2018)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OqEZ_RQ4Cm8
"Flashbacks", Emika
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wF6v7yCthd4
"Flashbacks (reversed)", Emika
“We did not touch each other. We were both leaning over the abyss.”
Anaïs Nin
“Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.”
Anaïs Nin
“Secrets. Need to disguise. The novel was born of this.”
Anaïs Nin
"But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover..."
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Kubla Khan