I was called Life and I gave gifts away
Till they came and asked for better pay
I was called Religion and I gave them hope
Till they came along and said they could cope
I was called Goodwill and I gave the poor time
Till they came along with smiles full of lime
I was called Knowledge and I told them to learn
Till they left the books on the bonfire to burn
I was called Imagination and I taught them to think
Till they brought the Red Flag and washed me down the sink
I was called Purity and I told them their scope
Till they gave into their loins and learned how to grope
I was called Pain and from me they learned Fear
Till they detained and tortured without shedding a tear
I was called Evil and I gave them choice
Till they turned to me and adorned me with poise.
I was called Death and I brought them on
Till they forgot and labelled me Demon's Spawn
I was their God, and now I am dead
Surely they don't seem like they want me instead?
Quote: Where did I come from, and where will I go when I die? maybe all this time
that's all I wanted, the freedom to find out.
In the peace of silence comes a splinter of happiness,
So I may wander the wonder's path, toying and tinkering,
Yet society has stuck me on this rippled rout,
And every step fills me more with doubt.
My emptiness comes out and fills the atmosphere,
As I'm left alone to stumble to the mirror,
Seeing the consuming melancholy in my chest is the only reminder that I'm still alive.
My limits confound me in chains yet all I have is a smile.
Like a patient with a small smirk cannot cry a tear for it would dry his body weak to the
cancer.
Now I'm feeling the emotion I can't speak to the shadow stuck alongside me, it alone
has the answer.
The warm concrete kissed my cheek
when I had finally stopped falling
and I lay there,
at peace in the sunshine,
bruises on my knees and
scrapes on my hands
bleeding oh so quietly
while I sang my uplifting songs of gratitude.
It's finally happened,
I met the ground,
The world quit spinning
all around
The clock just stopped
The pain just quit
I just embraced my moment
while my throat was slit
I sang and sang and lay and prayed,
My time has come, it's over now, bless my soul
forgive my sins
--scratch that--
I don't give a sh**
Just leave me be, here on the ground
Let me sing without a sound
Let me be at peace
In my effortless glow
Let me have my minute
Of being alone.
I need to remember who originally owned my superman cape.
Do you realize it's not all just a dream?
Do you know what I mean now by patterns?
They were, now, and will be
Forever present and pliant around you.
So can you tell me where the cape might be?
With it I could do amazing things.
Without it I'm missing the cape. And nothing amazing has occurred.
I can tell by the way I feel, they wish I had the cape on.
I can't find the cape. I don't remember if I have the cape on or not.
I hate the cape. Because I think I need it.
Though I know the cape would rather be me in a heartbeat.
Since I'm real and I have a heartbeat.
That is, if a cape could ever want something.
The silence of darkness is deafening,
pounding in my ears
the fear of peaceful illuminations.
I'm comforted by the booming,
vast nothingness,
wrapping me in blankets of void.
Embryotic, I'm happy.
Enlightened, I'm sad.
And the light,
a flame to burn this moth's wings,
Drawn though I am.
Let me close my eyes.
Envision black, as it soothes my sight.
Let me sink,
further into the mire, of murky maelstrom.
Let the light fade, with my hope, as I sleep.
Happy at last.
with open mind and hardened heart
im trekking thru this plane
when enemies cant play their part
it leaves much to explain
is somthing truely hovering
that gives me such a glow?
opponents surely shuddering
at something.. i dont know
is it the fact that i prepared
my head for future trials?
or is it the torch that i bared
that gives me such a guile
i think that its my diety
that makes things fall apart
with weapons rasing against me
my praying surely starts
there are the pieces strewn about,
without a semblance of order, unless
viewed from the vantage of secret places,
then the pieces find automation as I am looking at them,
and they reorganize and retract and coalesce
into a novel and whimsical order
they tell me that they, the pieces of my life,
are happier without me and without
the constraints I place upon them
happier when I allow them to act as they wish
as we all wait for the great equalizer...
what is most commonly refered to and forgotten,
Time,
As they like to say,
to put an order to the multitude of endeavors
and spurts of genius only we are capable of
putting into motion,
but my tiny brain minions are
holding out for a greater leader.
I close my eyes and go within…
Breathing long, slow, deeply the silent space begins…
I listen with alertness, love fills my heart...
The days rushing business and I do part…
You give to me access to the sacred gap,
guiding with intuition for there exists not a map…
During this visit you reveal my truth…
I am merely vibration once forgotten after youth…
You hold me subtly in your powerful hand,
placing me softly back in my mind where this began…
Gratitude flows from me straight to you…
Until this time tomorrow, I shall live this commune…
If love is a chemical reaction in the
brain
If attraction is simply chemistry
If the right substances binding and
exploding,
Combining and conquering,
Coursing through my effervescent
adolescent veins,
Conquering my conscious and
unconscious actions,
Consuming and possessing me,
caressing me,
Turning my blood against my better
judgment,
Compelling me toward a clearly
catastrophic,
Clearly cathartic and exotic end,
Can make me a doe-eyed,
endearing lunatic,
Then...
If I'm just along for the ride on a
careening mind trip,
Then let me stop to sniff the
flowers.
Through the passage of time up until this day,
unaware and ignorant are left behind.
Delusions of charlatans lead them astray.
These are ones proving most evil of their kind.
I see among the assembled multitude,
there is an abundance of those in dire need.
Affluent ones display reckless lassitude.
Wealthy pay no heed due to their greed.
Appalled by this destitution, I now share.
I remain with my own weight to carry.
I am separate from those who do not care.
My activity will not let me tarry.
The virtuous life’s path we must determine.
I pursue mine until time of death.
May I keep my power of acumen.
Guide and protect me until I draw last breath.
Who do I turn to when I'm all alone?
What do I see when I'm in the dark?
What can I feel if my senses are numb?
When will I live if there is only time to die?
There are questions that I have,
But no one will answer me.
It's like I have no voice,
And I cannot speak outloud.
So I sit to myself.
The way I like it.
No one to bother me,
No one to become attached to.
No one to hurt me in the end.
But it is so lonely,
Curiousity always grips my soul,
And pulls me close to her.
We roam the Earth together,
Through happiness and despair,
And through every wicked pathway,
That God has placed on his Creation.
We find the broken souls,
Confused just like me,
With no voice,
And no hope.
We take them,
And we love them,
Because no one else will.
I have found the answers to my questions:
We look for ourselves when there is no one.
We look for courage in the dark.
We dream of the things we cannot feel.
And we take each day like it is our last,
And live it to the fullest.
I can set my chin against the wind
And even shut my eyes to sin.
Yet, I live my days with a purpose still
To help someone, someway, with some will.
The person needing help the most
Is he that from me has sometimes been lost.
It is me, of course, of whom I speak
And this discourse is more than just a peak.
Though I try to be savvy, witty, and upbeat
There are those moments alone where I fall to defeat.
I have found a few words though, to help get me by
Often I use them, so I will continue to try.
Someone once said, "Life is like a vending machine".
You wonder why...well, here's the thing.
From the day we're born I have no doubt
"If you don't put something in...You won't get anything out"!
So, put the coins in your vending machine
Let others know that you have been.
Take the choice you have vended
And pray that it is enough, when life has ended.
PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE
Personal philosophy is a shoe which fits me and no one else.
I cannot claim that my philosophy is good for everyone.
All I know is that it is good for me. No one can teach you
A philosophy of life. You must teach yourself.
Used to be a serial on tv called The Lone Ranger,
A cowboy hero who solved problems for others :
And their disrupted community got settled again -
But he disappeared before they even realized he’d gone.
Then they always asked, “Who was that masked man?”
Corny, I know, but it impacted me then
When I was fourteen…….. and it still does.
I want to leave no evidence of my personal presence,
Just good results and benefits which are long-lasting.
I don’t want or need rounds of applause or floodlights.
Please just allow me now to solve the next problem.
I want to leave no footprints in the sand,
No marks of my shoe and its worn-out sole.
Where do the Demons come from
That reside in us from deep within?
Where do their evil powers lie?
Were they always dwelling there
Or did I somehow invite them in?
Haunting you…Haunting me
Did I commit some Cardinal sin?
Will someone, somewhere someday
Help me to drive them out
To free me from their evil whims
To allow me to ever live without?
They are always, always, there it seems
Pushing me to the verge of the ever after
And I struggle daily just to cling
To the rafters of myself and what I’ve been
To hold on to the tangible
And not get swept away
Into the demon’s nothingness
Where I’ll cease to forever have been.
Copyright Christine A Kysely 2010 November 26, 2010
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
WELL, EXCUSE ME
People don’t like me to say at parties that it’s such
A waste to throw out good food when so many
People go hungry every day even in our city.
Can’t you laugh for just once? they say.
Sure I can laugh, laugh at myself for having such
High-flown ideas that even the birds think I’m
A danger to their fly-ways, and should be grounded.
But the next time I hear someone complaining that
His Lexus is a pain in the neck due to its low gas-mileage,
I will surely add he should sell it, walk, and send the
Proceeds to Oxfam. And the next one who asks about my worry
That the planet is over-heating, will surely feel uncomfortable
At my sardonic response about worry that it is not over-eating.
Even a poem like this can make some feel uneasy in their penthouse.
Well, excuse me for disturbing your complacency.
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