I glance at my hands

I glance at my hands
wondering why...
     darkness beneath my skin.
I look about me
wondering how...
     my view is my sin.
I crave something,
wondering what...
     feeling lost within.
A voice whispering,
wondering who...
     knowing its not my kin.

Written by K, Copyright 2014

*This poem is being share with the Midweek Motif over at Poets United, with the prompt of addressing UFO day (which was July 2nd).

her voice shared freely

Her voice shared freely
as she read from the pages
of his favorite book.
Uncertain of being heard
by his silent, still body.

Written by K, Copyright 2014

* This was a Tanka Tuesday word prompt (friends)  from The One-Minute Writer.

her breath

Her breath is filled with hate,
screaming.
Her heart is pounding
against her broken chest,
searching.
Seeking the truth though
blinding.
All becomes silent, still,
drowning.

Created by K, Copyright 2014

dancing jester

I have an imposter that resides in my head;
he dances around dressed in purple and red.
For he is as much a jester as a jester can be,
he is someone that's quite opposite of me.
I tell the truth and he will lie;
he makes me frustrated and makes me cry.
This dancing jester can ruin my day,
even if I am happy he gets his way.

Written by K, Copyright 2014

what's in the air

I reach my hand out
into the air
and watch the blackness
absorb into my skin.
My fingertips turn black,
dying dead,
spreading up my arm
like a spiderweb.
I can soon feel
my heart skip a beat,
or two, or possibly
not beating at all.
My lips feel cold and blue
as if I am at Death's
heavy door.
I gasp for air,
my last breath surely,
as I pump the foaming soap.
I wash my hands
and wash again, and
once more for good measure.
The blackness fades,
my lips turn pink,
and my heart beats true 
once more.

Written by K, Copyright 2013

lost progress

I can feel it rising
from the recesses of my brain
slowly
creeping
as it invades all parts
of my being, through to the bone.
That aching sensation of the need
to panic
to cry
at what lurks in my surroundings
until I am once again
where I started.

Written by K, Copyright 2013

compulsive

Constantly on look
Out of mind in what ifs
Mantras rolling on loops
Persuading unsuccessfully
Underestimating the power of
Listless worries
Straining back tears of panic
Into an unsettled mind that
Ventures along the line of insanity
Enduring the inner conflict

Written by K, Copyright 2013

my glass jar

My thoughts fill my mind
every hour of everyday-
some beautiful and golden,
basking in the light,
others from the darkest
corners of the globe,
provoked into existence.
These thoughts fleetingly whisk
from my mind, falling into
a bottomless glass jar
with no lid, always visible
and easily accessible.

by K, Copyright 2013

my motherhood

 

 

My motherhood flows
like a river
gliding and carefree
enjoying all the little moments
that make my center calm,
at peace, and right with the world.
The cold waters are refreshing,
fulfilling even, as I dissolve into
this world of constant
graceful movements that become
so natural, as if Destiny herself
has placed me head first
into this river, knowing it was mine.
Sometimes I am restless,
like a rushing rapid
out of control, my waves
crashing and destroying
as I am reminded that
there is no map, pamphlet,
or book that will withstand
these twists and turns
in the riverbed, as I allow
sharp rocks and twigs to
pierce me while I continue
on this path of my
everflowing, ever changing
journey of motherhood.

by K, Copyright 2013

*This poem was written in honor of Mother's Day, and to share what I cherrish most dear to me, my beautiful little ladies. This poem is also being shared with Poets United Poetry Pantry. The photo is one I took a few years ago, one that I always think is so precious...my two daughters lost in their own world of fun on a lovely sunny day.



power of pain

 

I watch her writhing in pain
and screaming for my help
that I cannot give, choking back
my own tears of limitation.
Her words of broken faith
and torn dreams of life
mock me- leaving me empty
watching her true pain unfold
like an unwanted magic show.
My heart breaks as I try
to find a place within for this
unwanted knowledge that tortures,
leaving me nowhere to express
but through the ink of my pen.

by K, Copyright 2013

*This moment was written about a time when my oldest daughter was hospitalized due to Crohn's Disease. It was a moment for me that completely changed my life. It changed how I see, how I write, how I feel. She was hospitalized for a week and was in a terrible amount of pain that could not really be helped with pain meds due to the side effects of pain meds causing her even more problems with her Crohn's Disease. The photo was taken towards the end of her stay, of a ceiling tile that she painted once she started to feel a little better. Here is a photo of other ceiling tiles painted by other children in the GI ward of the childrens hospital:

I always get emotional when I see these photos and think of all the children that were there during that time, crying their own tears of pain, just as my daughter was. This poem was written this morning after reading Poets United prompt- poetry heals. I remember one night shortly after we returned home from this hospital visit, I awoke in the middle of the night overwhelmed with grief, and was soon after sitting in my bathroom with the door closed to not wake the rest of my family, writing out a poem that was interlocking with my sadness (which you can read here). It is true that poetry heals, for me, in the way that it allows me to connect and understand my own emotions and express them through my own writing.

my wintry home

 

Many homes I have had, lonely tears
Yearning to lay down roots

What my inner depths call home
Is not where I am, but where my soul
Nestled against snowy peaks in
The near distance, where my eyes could
Remain closed, but see the frozen beauty
Yet feel the warmth of the crisp white snow melting me

How my bones ache to feel that
Ominous chill against the skin on
My face and deep within my lungs
Evermore, my frozen fleeting Alaska

by K, Copyright 2013

*The plight of many military families, I'm sure. This poem is about my love for a place that I only had the blessings to live in for 4 years, and know that I will probably never have the opportunity to return. I took the photo while I lived in Alaska...it's beautiful mountains that I have much missed for many years.

lamentation

Listlessly rocking, keening
Against the rocks
Memories flooding
Engulfing her while she watches
Nymphs swarming, slithering
Through the waves
As waters rush aboard
The ship, his ship
Insensible, the scene before her
Offensive waters pulling him down
Never to be seen again

by K, Copyright 2013

*I would not speak my truth if I was not to express that there have been many times throughout the past several years that I have struggled to hear my own voice and have failed to understand who I am, amidst the chaotic sorrow that floods through our house due to one of my daughters being diagnosed with a chronic disease. This poem was written for Poets United prompt an authentic life.

dance

Daughters twirling
And swirling on stage
Nothing matters in that moment
Caught in my heart-
Endless for all time

by K, Copyright 2013

*My daughters had a dance recital this weekend, and my favorite part is watching and recording them during their dress rehearsal. Everytime that moment comes I am filled with so much joy at seeing them perform something so magical and beautiful that they've worked so hard on for so many months...it brings tears to my eyes. I love watching them put so much effort into something so special and watching their happiness unfold at being able to accomplish something they've set their minds to. Those are the little things, the moments to cherish and remember.

remicade

 

Remission is hopeful
Even through the pain
Many tears and needle pokes
In the arms of
Children
And the hearts of parents
Destined to
End in... peace

by K, Copyright 2013

*This was inspired by one of our many trip to the Childrens Hospital for my oldest to recieve her Remicade Infusions. This photo was taken during one of her infusions.

my heart withers

My heart withers
on the vine.
My fingers reach
and stretch
across the earth
to find.
I wish to hear
that note,
that familiar song.
But now I'm blind;
I hear only silence,
feel only cold.
There's too much, and
it makes me cry.
There are no soothers
or sayers to wipe my tears clean.
So I just grow around
these cluttered things.
I don't take flight,
I have no wings.
I weave and wind
across the time,
with blackness
cluttered, trailing behind.

by K, Copyright 2011

*This is not a recently written poem, it has been a couple of years.

anxiety

Always lingers
Never fully leaves
X marks the spot
In my mind where it weaves
Engraved upon my markings
To my stomach it cleaves
Yin to my yang, though no peace it brings

by K, Copyright 2013

*Yet another acrostic poem. I am really beginning to view this type of poetry in a new light, and I like it!

emotion

Eternally mine,
My memories
Old and new.
The impressions deep
In my soul,
Only visible
Never

by K, Copyright 2013

*This was my very first acrostic poem, at least my very first serious acrostic poem that wasn't just someone's name written down. If you aren't familiar with acrostic poetry, the first letter in each line spells a word that the poem is about....

Easter...

was a day of peace
     upon the couch
as I watched my hard work
     from the night before
          unfold like magic.
Little eyes bouncing
     from one plastic egg to another;
          baskets emptied upon the floor.
Hearts swelling with joy,
     looking upon the road
          scattered with the promise
               of new beginnings.

by K, Copyright 2013

his death

She flips the switch
to hide her grief in the shadows...
     even from herself.
The darkness emanates around her
as she lashes out at the hummanity
     that she openly loathes,
     but quietly longs for.

by K, Copyright 2013

*This was inspired by Elena's craziness in The Vampire Diaries after Jeremy was killed.

body

needles, procedures,
pills and pain-
her body

grief, loss,
empty sadness-
my body

by K, Copyright 2013