The mind, when cornered by unbearable truth,
Builds walls from silence and locks from sleep.
It learns the art of leaving itself
While the body remains behind to suffer.
There are wounds no language can dress,
No reason can bind.
So the psyche invents distance—
A thin veil between terror and breath.
It begins in childhood,
When love becomes danger
And memory becomes poison.
The soul, desperate to survive,
Steps sideways out of pain.
This is not madness.
It is architecture.
The self fractures not from weakness,
But from necessity.
The mind, like a nation under siege,
Burns its bridges to keep the enemy out.
How bad can it become?
So complete that one no longer knows
Which voice belongs to whom.
So quiet that life feels like watching oneself drown
From the shore of one’s own body.
So distant that joy feels like a rumor
Heard through thick walls.
The person survives,
But the witness disappears.
Yet know this:
Dissociation is not the illness—
It is the scar.
Proof that something once threatened
To destroy the soul entirely
And failed.
For even in retreat,
The mind chooses life.
Kiss me as you’d kiss a baby,
softly to show your love.
Touch me gently,
as you would someone hurt and afraid.
Hug me and hold me tightly,
that I might feel secure and protected.
Smile at me and laugh with me,
so I can see your joy and inner peace.
These are the things that sooth my soul,
inviting me to join you in a loving relationship.
These are the traits that will open my heart,
allowing love to flow freely.
Agree with me that we each have the right to be authentic,
and we’ll be free to be the best we can be.
Now two shall be one as passion is unshackled,
we shall frolic in unfathomable love.
It was a million years ago
I walked out of the light
Left everything, I cared about
The darkness wrapped around me
Feeling so much like Death’s shroud
I never looked back at my past
Never looked toward my future
The darkness became a womb for me
And I had no desire to leave it
So, here I stay
A part of the darkness that surrounds me
Just as it is a part of me
© Poem – VII/XXVIII/MMXXIV
LRET
You decided to abstain your vote for or against Israel, United States. You stabbed your ally in the back.
You know that we are the only ones who stand with Israel (who was attacked over Red Heifers and the right to rebuild their own Temple in their own Land).
You know that a non veto is a stand with the world against Israel.
Paraphrase_"and I will make Jersualem a cup of trembling and a burdensome stone, and whomever shall bother themselves with it shall be cut to pieces...although that the entire World stands against it.
The whole World is about to be fractured and go into derision and deception, with wars, rumors of wars, famine, pestilence and Death.
April 8 is your signal, for the uocoming period like no other and shall never be again.
You are being transported
On the road, HE, provided
In the JEEP promised to me
I got to walk the way
Following,HIM, in the dark
But never, really, got to see
How it would play out, in the natural
You are living in the home
A place of peace and rest, He, provided
To shelter from storms, outside
In the house promised to me
I found my home in HIS heart
Finding secret rooms, filled with treasure
That I left at HIS feet
But, I was homeLESS in the natural
You are eating the feast
At the table, HE, prepared
In the CHUPPAH provided for me
Someone was sitting in my place
So, I stood...
Wondering if my LOVE, would notice
He did, and enveloped me
Now, only those who seek HIM
...will see
Written by Trudy Schrader on 09-07-2023
Feathers have a meaning
In life, it's light retracks energy
They have such beauty and is
A symbol of strength
Giving you a feelings of importance
Between two worlds
Aquamarine waves
lap pristine rugged shorelines
casting call for beat
bohemic coral ballets
hip sandy beach applause
(This poem made the first PS Anthology, but disappeared
from my list.)
“Not sure of being familiar
With Washed-Ashore Emilia,
Neither saw The Cadillac
Not The Woman in Lilac,
Whom they’d decided to waste,
Stripping her down to the waist”.
Oh! How my two ears did burn
And my quiescent belly churn
And I stopped seeing Keats Urn
When the cops said “It’s my turn
To down sit for questioning”
And me was positioning,
Their routine activity
That made my captivity …
I would say quite Dramatic:
Experiences Traumatic;
All the time Protective
Before Smart-Eyed Detective
“Lots of pity, Emilia
But to her not familiar” …
Later, I learnt ‘Candidate’
With her rear’s ‘Up-to-date’
To neatly win The Loyalty
Of even The Royalty.
Just what lengths would you go through
To protect those that need you
Love trumps all reason
In every season
Would you adopt the same view
TV show: Your Honor
The storyline is about a judge whose teenage son hits and kills another teenage from a crime family , he panics leaves the scene of accident. Judge knows if he turns his son in they will kill him.
April 23rd, 2022
For Joseph May's On a Lim contest.
Frontliners wear PPE
While they fulfill their duty
To protect humanity
Dad,
I loved it when you showed me how to hammer in a nail.
The many times at the lake you carried my shovel and my pail.
When you taught me how to hold a hockey stick.
Shooting the puck is what I learned quick.
The times you hid behind the tree.
Making sure my sisters and I were as safe as we could be.
I am proud of you for teaching me right from wrong.
To never back away ,feel courage and be strong.
But the day you left and I could not see you again.
I hugged you tight, now I feel shame.
The battle of COVID was not fair to you.
The lack of oxygen made your skin turn a pale blue.
You fought hard to be here for each and everyone.
It was your time, you were ill and you really missed sweet mom.
Pandas are so cute
They also can be vicious
Protecting their young
O O
(^.^)
d( )b
0 0
Be careful
When talking to a protective sister
If you say the wrong thing
Exaggerate even the slightest
This could happen....
Point him out she will say,
beginning the hunt, primed and
ready to tear him apart for you
You will be mortified that you
embellished the story as you watch
him get flung through the air and hit the wall.
In a weathered oak tree with a sense of fun
There is a heart-shaped room with room for but one.
Door leading to it says For Honey Bun.
To be used by B, a miniature nun.
Her sanctuary in this protective solid oak tree
Is exactly where she forever after wants to be
If she ever invites non Catholics in for a bit of tea
I would very much like to sit next to Nun B.
Mama deer pranced diffidently
checking the meadow for man’s smell
Her spotted fawn trots along
unaware of danger
checking out the food
of pure and sweet
glorious
verdant
grasses
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