DOWN BUT NOT OUT
DOWN BUT NOT OUT (A 24-hour poetry marathon prompt – Haiku)
SHE HAD NOTHING LEFT
HER NEW BEGINNING BECKONS
FEAR REPLACED WITH HOPE
Voices
They followed everywhere
At all times of the day
They kept her awake at night
Forced her to do it
To keep a distance
To lock that door
To keep lights off
To keep staring at the wall
She didn’t want to fail
Si she kept trying
Without telling anyone
She kept struggling
In the end
She was about to climb
Just a step away from freedom
Something untied itself
Someone echoed loudly
He blindfold was put off
Suddenly her soul held her hand
She was awaken
She was fearless
She was now able to fight them
the voices stopped, they were defeated
No she knew what real freedom felt like…
butterfly (H4)
The flap of your
double-edged swords
mesmerize.
Do you know how deeply
your beauty and your brevity
move us?
down for the 3rd time [4 – #image]
sinking
in a starless sky
paralyzed
can’t catch my breath
i know i’ll die if i stay here
but i can’t move for
this sharp pain of memory
i have certainly loved before, lost before, and missed before
but this is the third time and i am
going down
No doubts
No doubts
Sylvia Plath said,
“The worst enemy to creativity is self–doubt.”’
I agree,
I never thought about writing in another language
Until I have the courage to do it.
Now, I write with confidence
I’m not sure with perfection
But without a doubt
(Quote allusion, hour 5 @Mejia2019)
Hold Me In This Vessel
Sixth Hour
Hold Me In This Vessel
My life is suffering so much stress,
I’ve fallen down,
things are just a mess.
When I tried to pick up the pieces,
it was clear, it’s just a test.
This body is broken,
my joints are torn,
my soul is ripped apart
and my psyche worn.
I am tired of being defeated
lost and forlorn.
My hope is shattered,
my dreams long gone.
I have no peace,
and I have lost my song.
Life for me is one loud sounding gong.
I feel like Job,
alone and sick.
It’s as if someone is playing
a cunning trick
on me that makes me stagger,
give up and slip.
No one understands or
has time to spare.
The roar of this life brings
sleepless nights and despair.
I sometimes cry out
“Lord, are you here, do you care?”
Please hold me in this vessel
until you come,
pull me up to where
I’ve fallen from,
to the secret place close
to your kingdom.
Hold me in this vessel,
seal me with your love.
restore me by your power,
from Heaven up above.
I need you Father,
shield me with your love.
I’m at my wits end Lord,
please, help me stand!
Help my unbelief,
I’m doing the best I can.
Make it plain LORD,
so I’ll understand.
I have got to finish my course,
and make it through,
but no one can help me
The way that you do.
Help me change my point of view.
Please hold me in this vessel,
until I can be found.
Bring your word to my remembrance,
place my feet on solid ground.
Grant me peace and a mind that is sound.
Hold me in this vessel,
cover me by your blood.
Deliver me out of the waters
and the deluge of mud
caused by the flow
from this torrential flood.
Please hold me in this vessel
until you come…for me…for me.
Please Lord!
Hold me in this vessel
until you come.
City of Compton
June 22, 2019@13:02
Married Despite All Odds
Pure and lovely like the little rosebuds peeking through the dark red roses of gratitude next to pink ones of grace, he stood ready for his wedding. The zinnias of yellow, magenta, and white reminded him of those many who had died over the years. "First generation" who had passed before the cure came, who should have been celebrating today, yet they were somehow. White violets flirted with blue violets, reminding him to keep a sense of romantic fun in coming days. The resplendent passion-flower? Well, that spoke for itself, and he blushed and buried his face in the tulips for a moment. Today, this hour, each moment, he had longed for and imagined and replayed. His wedding, his beaming groom, his bridal bouquet.
prompt for hour four
you are there
___________
city sky
with only
a smattering of stars
no wonder
our dreams have shrunk
to rectangular ones
we hold in our hands.
to see the infinite –
a place surpassing
limits
we are
but specks in
the vastness
where possibilities abound
so much more
than we can know –
how to reclaim
this view
in tune
with its song, would we fight
harder to save this tree, that
that whale, those elephants
because
they matter
as much as the billion stars
we no longer see.
they are there
though just out of sight –
ether of our minds stretched
to hold all that is conceivable
a truth
worth striving for.
Tap-too
Did you know
the word tattoo
originated as “tap-too”?
A sound based on a militant drum beat,
one i can hear perfectly in the sound
of a needle berating my skin,
the pattern that I designed being etched
into the pale placement I picked for it.
Sometimes that perfect pattern of pokes
is enough
to settle a racing mind.
That tap-too of the tattoo is a calming force
in a panicked life.
The day I called a friend
and she didn’t answer
my heart stopped
Minutes later,
on the phone with her parents
my heart broke.
Hearing about her secrets,
her hidden pains
put me in a state of eruption.
Terror, desolation , anger, guilt
came spilling out of me for days,
the sounds of “Colors of the Wind” on repeat in the back of my mind,
a constant reminder of our connection
and my fear of losing her.
“We are all connected to each other
in a circle, in a hoop
that never ends”
Now that constant reminder
is etched on my forearm
no longer a deliberate Disney song,
now a tribute to the people who are a part of me,
and the Pocahontas playlist has stopped.
The therapy is working.