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Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky Poem
there are many women who's life has been a tragedy.
we all know that is not the way it ought to be.
tragedies, unfortunately, are equal opportunity employers.
they strike all, no matter what race, creed or color.
think of the woman who are denied their basic rights.
they do what they are told and are instructed to neither fuss nor fight.
they have been taught through experience that they have no value.
so through life they go lacking self esteem & confidence,
with no dreams to pursue.
yet these are the strong women who have endured life.
life... ha!
countless, endless nights of sexual assault and she wasn't the wife.
if she were the mistress it would have been her choice to make;
but she wasn't, she was too young and for daddy's sake.
she endured the pain of being defiled....
threatened, young, afraid, her confusion was compiled.
daddies weren't suppose to do this ......
not to a child.
to mommy she went hoping she would be saved, after a while.
but mommy wasn't sure of the why's and how's.
how do you stay with a man who is a sow ?
how do you raise a family when you don't know?
is the child telling the truth or is she lying?
no ... it isn't a lie because you feel like dying.
so the daughter grows from child to woman.
carrying with her this tragedy that will always remain.
she has confronted, accepted and knows she isn't to blame.
she has grown to be confident, successful and quite sane.
forgiving is what she has learned to live by.
she had to deal with the pain and her mother the why.
as for the both they will mend;
but for the other he will surely spend.
the rest of his life in an eternal hell,
for he was under the devils spell.
Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014
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Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky Poem
A bedroom should be pleasant
a place where futures are conceived
where wonderful dreams in their effervescence are woven and believed.
when dreams aren't loved, supported and nurtured,
they are cast aside along with the future.
weeds now grow instead of flowers,
rhapsodies of life to be,
has lost all of its wondrous powers.
it is at that time the bedroom is changed.
where windows once stood with freedom's form.
steel bars are now in the window frame and
the factory for dream weaving has been transformed.
the mill of fabrics has been shut down,
the thread has dry rot and can not bound.
there will be no more sewing of seams,
for love is dead, and so are the dreams.
imaginary, ha you think so?
steel bars of betrayal, oppression & humiliation ....
believe me because I know.
imaginary... ha.. you think so?
steel bars of heartache, tyranny, anguish and disbelief .....
believe me because I know.
imaginary ... facsimiles .... replicas.....
do you believe these steel bars not to be true ?
they are there ..... believe me, i'll give you a clue.
bedroom walls which could tell many tales,
now bleed and cry.
smashing freedom as do all jails,
with its boarders wondering why?
a million pieces of devastation...
dreams of love are now only mutilations.
a retardation of two hearts and souls.
hearts once joined are now at opposite poles.
so the bedroom turns from a happy place to sad.
with bars of steel that are eternally had.
bars of steel that destroy and breed hatred.
bars of steel that satan deems sacred.
victory can be gained over those bars of steel.
to conquer that demon, love must prevail.
dream dreams of love,
and sew with the strongest of thread.
weave your fabric of love,
the dream mill must be started again.
make room in your heart, soul and head......
for the dream weaver........................
the dream weaver returns triumphant again!
Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014
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Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky Poem
i selected a drawer, one deep enough to accommodate.
i looked over my remembrances, it was getting late.
i took them and packed them away slowly.
letting myself remember and feel wholly.
there was reluctance on my part,but it had to be done.
so much had happend... i had so much love, passion & fun.
i placed them carefully in a draw marked sacred.
i realized that my life is what i had made it.
the draw is closed with my heart's iron clad seal.
to please keep this draw closed, unopened for real.
i reflect slowly on what was a beautiful dream.
i was the "grand dame" with a dynamic man who i deemed.
a dream of passion where feelings ran deep.
but for him, he concluded the passion was to steep.
the man, you know, the one i deemed so -
he vanished, disappeared it was a “no go”.
so this fabric of pleasure and pain,
had been folded deftly never to be opened again.
in my car while driving i hear songs, the shower, the mall ...
it all triggers thoughts of him that are anything but small.
the separation is sad, lonely, and filled with pain.
so desperately i try not to let my dreams play again.
but i am helpless or at least that is how it seems.
the draw slowly glides open and out comes my dreams.
against all my restraints and seals and pain.
there he is emerged, playing with my heart again.
i push the memories back down as hard as i can.
but a song, a word, a feeling, living my life;
the draw opens he is there....
and the cycle begins again.
Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014
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Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky Poem
there is a place that we each withdraw,
a place which protects, delights and always adores.
this place is not real although we sometimes wish it were.
a warm place where negativity is always deterred.
the place is called fantasy,
an island dedicated to what we want it to be.
fantasies are dreams in which we let go of all inhibitions.
where we imagine love, fun, sexual pleasures in submission.
fantasies are where illusions of grandeur tend to bloom -
visions of all you "can be" brightly loom.
fantasies are where happiness is a mere mirage.
hallucinations of, what could be.......
no, what should be is just a visage.
fantasies are the product of a yearning mind’s invention.
it's all made up, or should i not mention ?
fantasies, the reflection of your heart's vision.
where a man full of passionate, undying love is no apparition.
dreaming wonderful, love filled fabrications;
when the reality of it all deadens all sensations.
Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014
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Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky Poem
Rainbows
when love is new, moments last for days.
glances, smiles, stolen kisses and a single touch
no matter how aged...
playing over and over again can never be too much.
when feelings are exchanged,
importance is assigned to words that are spoken;
but mostly to the ones that aren't.
the fanatical, maniacal, insanity that exists.
presents awkward moments that sometimes persist.
awkward terrain,
transitional plains,
tumultuous passages,
comfortable plateaus,
surmountable mountains ....
afraid for... yet crying for... even longing for...
complaining for, trading for, fighting for.........
pursuing, striving almost worth dying for..........
chasing rainbows in dreams.
searching for dreams in reality.
hunting for that pot of gold...
not realizing that
the gold is in hand,
the reality is the dream
and
your life is the rainbow.
Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014
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Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky Poem
i write, to my lover, words of desire, passion and love.
i ensured there arrival, so i sent them by a dove.
perhaps i should have asked for help from God above.
these words of love and understanding
did they do me good or are they squandering?
so now i am waiting possibly longing to hear
a response, you know words, from my love...... my dear.
will he write or will he say ...
no, to him, words just get in the way.
we will meet one wonderful starlit night.
my smile, covering my nerves, will be warm and bright.
he will stand in the doorway anxiously waiting.
as i park my car and start slowly gaiting.
he will kiss me and hold me close.
i will be in his arms, where i want to be the most !
he will look down at me warmth and love in his eyes.
then, right at that moment we are transfixed, in love's vise.
he will lead me to his bedroom,
making small conversation in the hall.
for the present our voices fill the room
for loves sake, our hearts are glad that we made the call.
he will admire me in what he views as beauty.
love struck, nervously i'll say something about his beauty.
i will try to be coy, alluring and provoking
he too begins kissing, stimulating and arousing.
i will succumb, easily without pause.
he will be masterful, skillful and guide me with great cause.
he will act out his words of love
for his words are my words
those sent by a dove.
Copyright © Jacqueline Newton-Kowalsky | Year Posted 2014
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