Monday May 23rd same time as the above poem was written, now i'm 44

out of sight, out of heart, out of luck.
sorry. It's what I play.
Survivals the name of it.
You are its' mere ending.
I can't wait, when everyday is the past present and future- each night I die,,,,,,,,,,,,,
there's no tomorrow- only a new birth- la new person, whose yesterdays only blurr, in feelings,,,,
Yet calculated memories exist, as if 'video taped'.
I can not play your white man's game-
(i'm native american and not prejudice, he was white and was an indian wannabe)
of distance making ones love fonder.
Newness sets in, new face, new situations to experience.
New. Each day is new.
Only after the realness of bonding, is effective, does distance become temporary separations,,,,
but not in newness, the memories fade quickly,,,,
Survival skills.
Promise.....another white man's game.
Soeak not, for you've shown me your whiteness, not your red.
Red, speaks not, it just does.
dlj aka ww (whiteWof)

Big White Man

(again anti person not race, he was the one to point it out.)

You make me laugh, all of you, but for you, it is not funny.
Here I stand, quite alone, in a circle I drew.
Step inside, don't you all want to?
You're eyes don't lie, just the white mans tongue.
Step inside, open wide and take your ride.
How does it feel when I've let you win,
Chests puff and webs spin.
So in "your" world I've let you step,
but in mine is where you thought you'd crept.
The circle gets smaller, until only my feet fit,
How does it feel to be pushed out, you tried to match my wit!
ouch ouch ouch you shoutl
Before those step into that circle of illusion,
speak on truth, before hand, not confusion.
My minds on overtime, in its vastness,
vast, large and wide,
My soul is pure and white in pride,
but its my heart that rules your fate,
with mind and soul as its' gate.
One must touch, the two, ever before,
they can locate and open that heavy iron door.
The hearts' quite guarded, my body lies,
it's the white man's body game, I play, in sighs.
So before you step into that circle you all have made me make,
send me your purity, for your own hearts' sake.
dlj

Recovery sat. june 5th 93'

How do you tell prospective friends, you've never lived the 30 year old body they see.
How do you say, you've run away, in constant fear of being caught, only you don't remember all the weapons used, or all the faces behind them, how could I, there were just way too many?
How then do you tell them, you don't want to remember anymore?
That the memories provided in flashbacks, hurt and broke you to the point of total emotional and mental break down?
How do you make them believe your kindness is so real, when they don't?
That you know pain and forbid the passage, or when pain is felt, you want to share the misery to the non-optimists?
How do you tell them you were just born, today, and that the over grown body is emerly a facade?
How do you cancel the super instinctive qualities bore through the brain?
And, PLEASE, please tell me, after all this, cause I never felt it,
what does love feel like?

dlj

merely a facade, fourth line up from bottom, oops typo

January Sunset

Last night at sunset, I did behold
Contrast so striking, colors so bold.
Billowy clouds of a purple hue
Dissolved into a glorious view.

A sillouette of forests, below
Formed an inky frame of sunset’s glow…
And an arrow of geese winging by
Slid across the tangerine sky.

I thank our LORD in Heaven above
For this reminder of His great love.
Truly a glimpse of Heaven’s glory,
But only one page of His story.

cathy

Oh noble valiant one
all courageous defender of the terrified,
whose exertion conquers mountains,
let rest your arms and sag your straining shoulders.
Ungird the pillars of your thighs
and slip down to your knees before me.
Fear not, but breathe as from spare frame
and proud head I ease your armour.
Thus revealed in naked softness then recline
that I may tend your many wounds.
With cooling salves and gentle fingertips
and tenderest of kisses.
Let flow your tears that they may soften frozen features
and melt the crags of loneliness and pain.
Relax from watchfulness and sleep
for I shall bide awake and gently hold you in repose.

i have no other place to share this. don't read it if you are easily triggered.




I Want to Scream

Thick, velvet darkness inches on
Chasing sunset across the lawn
Swallowing every speck of light
To hide the evil in the night

Is that a shadow lurking there
And does it bring more shame to bear
I hear his belt drop to the floor
I want to scream, run out the door

But no, I’m frozen where I lie
I must not breathe, I must not cry
I smell his breath, hot on my face
Please find a way to leave this place

My body’s dead, my mind is gone
I should die, but my heart beats on
And now the darkness comes again
To imprison me from within

The Clock Ticks On

The clock ticks on,
Where...have...you...been?
Your time is spent,
You're...late...again.

You've one sock on,
One in your hand.
For this long time
Did you just stand?

Nary a thought
Escaped your mind.
No good reason
You're in this bind.

The clock ticks on,
Where...have...you...been?
Your time is spent,
You're...late...again.

cathy

Ok, so I've been having REALLY bad nightmares for a couple of weeks now. I've tried taking ativan, and while that puts me to sleep, I still have the nightmares. I've tried sleeping during the day (since I typically have worse PTSD at night), but I've been getting them even when it's light out. The worst part is that once I'm fully awake, I can't remmeber the nightmare, only that it was really bad :-( Therefore, I can't do any analysis to put the nightmare in perspective, and I now fear going to sleep. Last week wasn't too bad because I was on vacation, but now I have work again, and I need to get up at 5:30 every morning. I'm so tired in teh morning; my body just feels spent.

Anyway, I wrote this poem about nightmares...maybe you all can relate...

"Nightmare"

I dip beneath the quilts,
blissfully ignorant of the notes of suspense
that crescendo--
Overwhelming the senses
my limbs struggle to break free from
the roots which hold them down into
suppression
molested by the elements
so unnatural and obtrusive to the
nature of man:
an offense to the gods.
I search like a medicine man
hoping to find a cure for this reality
of circumstance that foreshadows
the outcome of my life
in this dream-like kingdom of
midnight madness.

Powerful words nic, thanks for sharing! Hope the nightmare's improve.