THE SHADOW OF SPITE
You smile at me with eyes of
stone,
And leave me standing all alone.
You twist the truth to play your
game,
And try to ruin my good name.
I see the trap you want to set,
But I will break your heavy net.
You watch my life and wish for
tears,
To feed your own dark, hidden
fears.
You fake a smile but hide a
knife,
To bring hard times into my life.
You thrive on pain and love to
fight,
And block out my my happy light.
But I will stand and face your
test,
And give myself some peace
and rest.
Your cruel words will start to
fade,
And ruin all the plans you made.
I'll step away and shut the door,
So you can't hurt me anymore.
Silk merchant 's gaze, a practical sweep,
Fine thread he seeks, where shadows sleep.
A finger points, with eager grace,
"This crimson hue, a rare embrace!"
Young maiden stands,with eyes so deep,
My mother's hand, it secret keep.
The silkworm spun a crimson stain,
Where pain and love, did interwine.
"Her wounded hands, the thread did hold"
A sacrifice, a story to told.
The silk, it glows, with life's own fire,
A mother's love, that "burns no higher".
Merchant's hand is still it's quest,
A sudden weight, upon his breast.
No words he speaks, no price he names,
But feels the sting, of hidden flames.
He sees not silk, but crimson Tide,
Where love and loss, forever ride.
The silent tears, the woven plea,
A mother's heart, eternally.
~Byeol
Eyes: the window to the soul, the gate to your tears, the mirror of memories and of ghosts that linger near.
Eyes: some forever glazed by the blurring of sorrow, some haunted by the past and some cursed to hold tomorrow.
Eyes: the way you see the world, and the way the world sees you. Reflecting every colour, every shade, every hue.
Eyes: they see, they feel, they hear too close, too deep. Carrying unspoken stories, secrets they must keep.
Cursed or blessed, they blink, they stare.
Picking apart the world they view with a knowing, silent glare.
From lingered looks to stolen glances.
They depict, translate – every gaze enhances.
They light up, they sputter out, they glitter and glint or they dull and dim.
Holding laughter, pain and love trapped within.
So, don’t walk in someone else’s shoes-
look through their eyes, feel what they feel.
Only then will you understand:
Eyes hold much more than just tears.
sunlight on the son,
shining like a star.
king of the world,
the man from afar.
his army of peace,
come to stop the war.
a hint to the rich,
a hand to the poor.
the princely posture,
standing nice and straight.
the life that we live,
will come down to fate.
let the magic free,
dancing like a fool.
we all have to have,
some kind of fuel.
The night falls like snow,
lying on the bed.
and doing those things,
that turns a face red.
Don't try to know why,
life is confusing.
sometimes it is nice,
not the abusing.
Only time will explain,
why there's pain and love.
and when we will meet,
this god from above.
The sepulcher within its confines hold
a withering shell where once a grand life spent
a journey both of joy and discontent -
of pain and love and stories left untold.
Too simple and complex I contemplate
mortality where souls are briefly weighed,
and conscience where the weight of sin is paid
against a deed of good that came too late.
So...what of death, a tax that must be paid,
and measured by the value of my worth?
It matters not - the plaintive cry "I tried"
when even that was honest truth betrayed.
Each day anew I celebrate my birth -
and not regret a humble life that died...
Blacks and blues, a cruel kindness,
A paradox that leaves us blindless
Words that wound but also heal
A mix of pain and love we feel.
Ink blots spill onto the page,
A canvas of our inner rage,
Delight and sorrow are intertwined.
A reflection of the human mind.
Each stroke is a story to be told.
Secrets are hidden yet unfold
In the ink, we find release.
A way to cope, a sense of peace.
The blots become a crafting art.
A glimpse of what's within our hearts
A reminder of the ups and downs,
And how we wear our battle crowns.
So let the ink spill on the page.
Let it be a cathartic stage,
For in the blots, we find our way,
To live again, another day.
Written: June 08, 2023
Half empty love, a bitter truth,
A tale of pain and love uncouth,
Of relations that failed to last,
Of hearts that shattered like broken glass.
Flipped coins and cents of life,
A gamble that caused us strife,
A love that promised joy and bliss,
Now just a memory that we miss.
We thought we had it all,
A love that would never fall,
But soon it crumbled to the ground,
A painful ending that left us bound.
Back-stabbing and hurtful words,
A love that flew away like birds,
A trust that was broken and betrayed,
A love that died, and memories fade.
Now we're left with half-empty hearts,
Trying to make sense of broken parts,
Wondering if love was ever true,
Or just a dream we once pursued.
But through the pain, we'll find a way,
To love again, and see a brighter day,
To learn from past mistakes and strife,
And find a love that's worth the flip of life.
The sepulcher within its confines hold
a withering shell where once a grand life spent
a journey both of joy and discontent -
of pain and love and stories left untold.
Too simple and complex I contemplate
mortality where souls are briefly weighed,
and conscience where the weight of sin is paid
against a deed of good that came too late.
So...what of death, a tax that must be paid,
and measured by the value of my worth?
It matters not - the plaintive cry "I tried"
when even that was honest truth betrayed.
Each day anew I celebrate my birth -
and not regret a humble life that died...
Author Dana Redricks
February 5, 2023
I keep holding on even though at times my body is consumed with pain and deep down inside I want to fall apart, and cease from holding on. I try to remain strong, but I realize I can't do it all on my own. I want to let go of all the pain, let go of all of not knowing what tomorrow holds. It's hard trying to remain positive when your body is consumed with pain. I don't want to burden others with my pain, but there is someone who I can go to and to Him all of my burdens I can share. His love is everlasting, and He knows just how I feel. When I come to Him, I don't have to pretend, because He knows each thought that I think, and exactly how I feel. Jesus is the burden bearer, and in Him we can find relief. There's no one who can love us the way He does. His love is unconditional, and never does it change. His love for us is consistent, and He is never far away. So today when the things of this world seem to get you down remember there's a friend you can go to help ease your pain, and love you in ways no one ever could.
soul said the journey of pain and love has ended, we all left our loved ones behind.
Even if I am going to heaven my memories are making me fall behind
Even if I am going to live near god I will always wish to see you by my side.
God was there at the back listening to him in hide.
what you left was nothing kid all was in your heart inside,
come to me let me show you the real side, whenever you fell behind in your life I was there to hold you tight.
the loved ones were messengers of mine who messaged the love back that you gave to me even when you were suffering at night.
what you did in the world was karma of yours that was counted by the world but here you all are children of mine even if you are the bad one I will teach you here never let you burn inside
that's how I enter the soul in my heart what you call heaven and there is no hell beside.
Its pools of elastic black oil
that pulls lines and curves
spaces pausing words
a flick of a tale
a flick of a tail
tendrilled T's that stretch and yawn
U's that capture like cups
O's that don't stop or start
slytherin squiggles of serpentine s's
i hang a hammock between too Y'S
not too wise
without the h would it urt
scratching scrawls that screech of something soulless
feathered fails and faltered falls
scripts of pain and love that came before
lies that slip the silence
truths that never shared
Hope that just hopped by
Fear pulled sorry by the ear
until it shed a tear
Eating away at the hate
What words will i let go
which will i store for another
Which sword is wrnog
which rite is write
The clouds above me darken, as I sit here reminiscing about my past.
It's a challenge to invest in and build relationships that are not meant to last.
Some memories are pleasant, others not so much.
Recalling your last touch.
Indeed, I'm trying to learn from my mistakes.
No matter how long it takes.
I've seen it all before, we've decided to go our separate ways.
In a matter of minutes, in a season of rage, the decision is given.
Shall we find it in our hearts to one day, be forgiven.
How did we get here, replacing hate with love?
Touching the sky above.
Unknown it is to me, the fantasy of a happy ending.
Maybe we were both pretending.
It all only exists in fairytales, played during innocence.
I no longer have a guilty conscience.
We both failed, each other, staying out of convenience.
Yes, people experience pain and love, at times, together.
But today I realize that nothing, lasts forever.
this is about pain and love
when i listen to myself
i hear bitterness, anger,
longing, hurt
frozen in time,
never aging
i was 25 years younger
46 years later,
i’m 21 years older
i never think of him as
what he’d be like today
never about “what if” now
it’s always then
everything was black or white
half good, half not so much
the good was shared,
the rest, rarely
he had all the control
like everyone else,
i waited for his next move,
his direction
on the rare occasions
he needed a lamb
i was the one
on the alter
when we said “see you later”
for the last time
he knew we would never
see each other again
and that he screwed up
i could see it in his eyes
hear it in his voice
there was so much unfinished
he didn't know
who or what else to be
he was reflective,
as if asking,
“does it have to be this way?”
if he had asked
i wouldn’t have had an answer
i wanted more
of what little there was
and or at least some of
what i didn’t get
that was never
going to be possible
i’ve finally come to terms
it’s been a long goodbye
A surreal vision
dreamlike and bizarre.
I felt as if I were in the throes
of a turbulent blazing blizzard,
a throbbing pulsating migraine
almost static in fermentation.
It gnawed intensively at my innards,
atrocious labor pains.
She put a small wet warm towel
Right on my forehead.
Then relief.
A calming of the spirit,
ethereal, soft, relaxing.
A vision of vastness
dotted by languid lakes,
rippling rivulets,
autumn-colored trees,
eternal waterfalls,
and myriads of emigrating geese.
I slept, feeling you besides me,
warm, homely, and satisfying.
Precisely why I loved you.
22 April 2021
Placed 1
Writing Prompt - Ache - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
my demons remembered the
way you fought so hard to forgive-
your crimson fire sought a life
too barren to live
absolute nothingness,
internal resentment for all who
know my secret-
captured inside an hourglass
with grains trying to keep it
breaking bread without wine
bestows unholy faith - ashes to dust-
allowing pain and love to align
gives way to feed off distrust
for i am but a leach;
a one-sided serpent, all knowing,
yet knows nothing at all-
mother nature attempted to reach
the naked reverie flowing,
adrift the power of my waterfall
fearing not what lies ahead,
tormented at the loss of you-
i entered your threshold instead
and expressed what i always do
my arthritic fingers, frail-
too full of ache to quill this pain;
all the wonder of the fear i impale
is all this soul can contain
and
all i can remember is this desire...
i craved you in autumn's medallion delight-
you ignited my crimson fire-
under the harvest moonlight
________________________________
February 11, 2020
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