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Catherine A. Mackenzie Poem
The pages crease and cry when I turn them
and read the words written there, and
I wonder of the person who wrote them
as I admire the fancy scroll within
the faded blue ink of the fountain pen.
There is no binding,
no staples,
nothing to hold the sheets together,
for this is only a draft,
a yellowed pile of memories
gathering dust,
moaning and crinkling
before they fragment
and disappear back into the past.
Copyright © Catherine A. Mackenzie | Year Posted 2011
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Catherine A. Mackenzie Poem
I scrub and scrub,
trying to erase stains gravelled upon my face.
Age has defined its mark,
solidified a presence in folds and furrows
raked over a once-smooth fabric now heralding me as old.
These seams line my skin,
years claimed my youth
from time I hadn't known had passed
and disappeared too fast
like thieves in the night
creeping without warning.
I smell that newness born with babes,
Oh, how it escapes me,
leaving soiled flesh in its wake.
I'm alive,
still breathing,
but it's sighs of old.
Vibrancy and youth permeate my spirit
until the mirror silently highlights worn flesh,
illuminating my face and
haunting me like a ghost
forever lurking around me.
When I peer closer I see more yet less of me,
fragments of remaining years shadow daylight gone,
like dirt disappearing from a child's face in the rain,
innocence turned to the sky,
tongue gathering pearls.
Age is dark. Quiet. Unobtrusive. Unwelcoming.
These common threads live to capture us all.
Copyright © Catherine A. Mackenzie | Year Posted 2021
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Catherine A. Mackenzie Poem
Amid the darkness
And despair and doom,
View the blazing sun
And azure sky...
Or the silvery moon
And nightly black
When the living rest
After a day of light.
Grasp your hands
And flex your fingers,
Be grateful for
Limbs that move:
Legs to carry
You through the day
And arms to fold
On your chest at night.
Feel blessed for breath
That wakes you
Every morning,
For the power to yawn
And stretch,
To frown
Or smile,
To greet a new day.
In this new normal
Of a not-so-gentle world
Of confusion and chaos
Be kind,
For we share one life.
Be thankful for tears,
For to love is to cry and
To die is to have lived.
Despite doom
And despair
Be grateful
To be alive,
To see the sun
And the moon,
For what is the alternative.
Copyright © Catherine A. Mackenzie | Year Posted 2024
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Catherine A. Mackenzie Poem
I hear the screams
And every moan
But nothing’s as it seems,
Every day the light beams,
Birds have flown,
I hear the screams,
The moon still gleams,
The ball is thrown,
But nothing’s as it seems,
Form teams,
Stand upon a throne,
I hear the screams,
She beats and creams,
Clothes are sewn,
But nothing’s as it seems,
Water flows down streams,
Everyone’s alone.
I hear the screams,
But nothing’s as it seems.
Copyright © Catherine A. Mackenzie | Year Posted 2025
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Catherine A. Mackenzie Poem
Dark, stark is the path,
I control my wrath,
Trod forth,
Staying on course,
Wanting—needing—to reach the end
Just around the bend,
I pray, I hope,
I grope,
For I’ve travelled far and wide
Without a star to guide,
Without a light
In the night,
I sigh,
Cry,
Wipe tears,
Wish away fears,
And then, ahead
I see red
And greens, yellows, blues,
Various hues...
The sun is shining,
I’ve quit whining
For I’ve reached the end:
That place around the bend,
I shade my eyes
From the glow in the skies,
Peek at the land,
Stand
Strong and tall,
For I did not fall.
Copyright © Catherine A. Mackenzie | Year Posted 2025
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