Here is a poem written in the 1960's by a young boy who committed suicide:
'To Santa Claus and Little Sisters'
Once
on yellow paper, with green lines, he wrote a
poem and called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog and
that's what it was all about,
and the teacher gave him an "A"
and a gold star
and his mother hung it on the kitchen door and
read it to all his aunts
That was the year his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair, and Father
Tracey took them to the zoo
and let them sing on the bus,
and his father and mother kissed a lot
and the girl around the corner sent him a
Christmas card signed with a
row of kisses
and his father always tucked him in at night
and he was always there to do it.
Once
on white paper, with blue lines, he wrote
another poem
and he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
and that's what it was about
and the teacher gave him an "A"
and told him to write more clearly
and his mother didn't hang it on the kitchen
door because the door had
just been painted.
That was the year that his sister got glasses
with black frames and thick lenses
and the kids told him why his mother and
father kissed a lot
and that Father Tracy smoked cigars and left
the butts on the pews
and the girl round the corner laughed when he
went to see Santa Claus
at Woolworths
and his father stopped tucking him in at bed
at night and got mad when he
cried for him to
Once
on paper torn from his notebook, he wrote
another poem
and he called it "Question Marked Innocence"
because that was the name of his grief and
that's what it was all about
and the professor gave him an "A"
and a strange and steady look
and his mother never hung it in the kitchen
door because he never let her see it
That was the year he found his sister necking
in the back room
and his parents never kissed or even smiled
and he forgot the end of the Apostles Creed
and Father Tracey
died
and the girl around the corner wore too much
make up
and made him cough
when he kissed her, but he kissed her anyway
Once
at 3am he tucked himself in bed, his father
snoring loudly
he tried another poem on the back of a pack
of matches
and called it absolutely nothing, because that's
what it was all about
and he gave himself an "A"
and a slash on each damp wrist
and hung it on the bathroom door because
he couldn't reach the kitchen.
I wrote this many years back(I write mostly free-verse now though, not rhyme). It is how it feels to me about those good around us and those bad. I call it:
THE RESPECTED MAN
With a surge of anger and fistful of might,
stood afraid and trembling, reluctant to fight,
a "man of respect", who stands for what's right,
against the evil that lurks within the shadows of night.
Can he fight them alone(?), will it be more than a match(?),
for the demons from beyond are not easy to catch.
Will his faith give him strength and power to overcome,
these unearthly beings, wherever they're from?
They'll cheat and they'll lie, and try to make you believe,
that the only way to live is to hurt and deceive.
Their darkness engulfs those susceptible to fear,
and clings to the innocent we hold precious and dear.
They hide in the corners, and emerge from the depths,
ever tempting our senses, putting our faith to the test.
But how can he fight , without falling prey,
to the hatred and deception he despises in they(?).
He must hold strong, ever keeping his guard,
rejecting temptations, no matter how hard.
Will he win this battle(?), may God only know.
Will the evil in man still continue to grow(?)
Is this the encounter which will decide all,
whether life as we know it will rise or will fall(?)
I hope for our sake, and I surely expect,
that this fight will be won by this "man of respect". R.S.
I'm not sure if I believe this anymore though. I think evil is too strong to just be overcome with goodness. I'd hate to have to see what the future of mankind has to bring..., and thank God.., I don't.
The doors close for the last time and I am free
But am I free?
Trapped behind the other side of me, I watch
Gentle blowing leaves take in autumn air
The next time this feeling comes it will be but a memory
Of peace or distraught?
Birds take flight, their new beginnings
But what of those with wings undeveloped?
A longing for the chance to hear the bell for a final time
Alongside friendly faces
So they say these things will last forever
Remote New body - smaller than our moon, or bigger than our sun... planet enters our solar system in an unforecastable manner. While doing pull-ups in the gym, Earth's gravitational force changes crazily, towards 90º, and then more, on many axes... perhaps more often than a moon cycle: < 1 day 180º rotational, or 10 days, 19 days, etc, affecting the other planets.... sun? Maybe not. Nothing we can do about it...
So pulled sideways on pull-ups machine, soon dragged out of the gym window, onto the vertical grass outside, grabbing the railings, hanging with hands - new pull-ups - to try to stay in place. See the gym machines falling my way thru the window, so trying to flip over the railings to avoid getting hit, and just making it in time. The the railings uprooted... finding a dead motorcyclist - immediately taking his helmet for myself, realising it was a really sexy bird. Heavy office cabinets falling on my helmet; so safe for now. She's crushed.
All freestanding objects in the buildings - cars, liquid tanks, anything balancing on any surface... the objects achieve a state of pause, static, and then they start moving back on the same axis, or another... like the tide. The moon plays a part with its lunar cycle. Catastrophic deaths - a new kind of typhoon, flood, hurricane, all in a continuous state of flux which cannot be predicted, but people start to track movement, hoping for a reliable prediction, but the body could take millennia of history, where we've existed on a world of continuous weather, moon, tides, etc, so far. Reservoirs tip their water hugely into different areas... Niagara Falls upside-down. Body might leave, on a tangent, or stay close forever... Earth never the same again, with fear of all the planets colliding! Even a way to avert energy to change gravitational force seems impossible. Rotational forces are here to stay / change. We've had it so good before!! THINK: all precipitation, volcanic activity will change completely! Sun & seasons go nuts. Antarctic becomes tropical environment, or changing all the time, as the mediterrenean hot midriff will be frozen ice or hot or humid, several times in a day - the new type of day. 3-hour day? We start building ways to fix things down at any surface. Need enclosed spaces to sleep in while turning in any direction, free of other objects... sleep and rest destroy humanity and animals, as it's impossible! Health. Relationships! Worse than any war - nuclear of social. Trains, planes, boats, helicopters, bridges relying on consistent gravitational force are not lost. Trains move around the track and eventually leave it when upside-down, and end up somewhere else and then crash back onto the surface later. Destruction... This initial idea needs serious planning to get a feasible situations... No food. Whales into orbit & back. All fish everywhere. Many things in orbit
Well...
I only have two pairs of shoes. One is for other things, and the other pair is for... other things.
Just one look,
A silent glare,
Gave me chills,
I do not dare,
To turn and run,
Flee this place,
Your reprisal,
I can't face.
Eyes burn deep,
Into my soul,
See the fear,
Blackened hole,
Which into fell,
My resolve,
Gone forever,
My will dissolved.
You tower over,
Broad and tall,
Giant like,
For I am small,
I won't fight,
I won't cry,
Bite my lip,
Close my eyes.
To another world,
My mind flies,
Of happy times,
Memories belie,
For any hope,
To rid this pain,
Of more abuse,
But its here again.
Just one look says it all,
Just one look to make me fall.
Just one look instills fear,
Just one look draws you near.
Just one look to show its time,
Just one look to know your crime.
Just one look to see whats coming,
Just one look there is no running.
Just one look of icy stare,
Just one look into the darkest depths
of depravity that lurks behind the
black and emotionless eyes of the damned.
Golden eyes
Mostly ebony
Some Ivory
Skittishness, just like me
Your nose in the crook of my arm
Your tail
A slap in the face
In my lap
A warm embrace
Your cry I can not remember now
Time has cleared it away somehow
The pain you felt
The wailing
The misery
You could not walk
You were poisoned
You were dying
The vet lied
You would not come home
You died
Afraid, I fear, and all alone
I Miss You July 28, 2013 at 11:04pm
Tears run down my face
Like rain runs down a window pane
Thoughts of you
Missing you
Wishing you were here
Such a silly boy
I miss your purr
I miss your wet nose
In the crook of my arm
I hated that then
But I’d give anything for it now
Dreams of you
Waking up crying
Wishing you were here
My mom sees you
You come to her
You are real to her
Not just dreams
Like me
You were my first real pet
My own
I took care of you
And loved you
Like no other before
Your sister did so much better with you here
She’s not the same now
She’s scared
She’s skittish like you were
But much worse
That’s your little sisters fault though
Ivy
You never met her on this plane
But I’m sure you’ve seen her from where you are now
You loved kittens
I think you would have loved her
I miss you so much my boy
Almost six years now
Since you’ve been gone
A piece of my heart
Forever torn away
No one understands it
But me
I love you, Tasia
Forever and Always
I love you my sweet boy
I miss you dearly
I hope to see you again someday
When my time comes
In heaven
Walking through the broken forest,
Thorns keep scraping at the knees
Although I cease to look around me
I try so hard to make it serene
The fallen, the destitute, the wretched
All stare with broken bones and canine hands
And I try so hard to make them clean
With solid water and muddy sand
Wonderland:
That place you only see in dreams,
That beautiful state of mind
Where hell is broken at the seams
Whitewashed walls refuse to tell the truth
The pearly walls break before me,
Cracks to show the bones of youth
Youth:
You poor creature, rejected and forgotten
An undressed skeleton put to rest
Indulgence burned, left inside your rotted chest
Thus I see all, from the tower I stand
Balance broken, the fall rehearsed again and again
Weaved together with the strand
Of broken bottles and an unchaste Man…
Walking through the pearly gates
Ethereal figures and happiness waits
I shut my eyes to join The Blind
As reality fades and loose ends are tied
And the darkened picture burns in time
Removed from the influence of time
past the realms of Kadath
Nyarlathotep writhes, desirous
emitting sulfurous miasma, amorphous
creeping through the broken window of space
from a place unknowable to the human mind
odious mucosal excretion
feelers outstretched, trembling
appears in dreams, a specter
wringing life force from broken souls
a trail of crushed bodies in his wake
This vacancy,
This shaky feeling early in the night,
Weak depraved, soaking wet,
Carved, whittled down to minute particles of soul,
This cage is cold tonight,
Pacing and crossing back and forth,
Chest heaving,
Proud golden fur,
Drooling in time to the beat of the clock,
She whispered to me,
She tempted me,
"Never leave me",
"How terribly I would miss you"!
She threw the phone,
It hit the wall, broke, and fell into the waste basket,
"GET OUT"! she screamed,
"LEAVE! OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE"!
But I could not leave,
There was nowhere to go,
The street was rowed with the slowly dying,
The police knew it well,
We shared the bed again,
She is snoring again,
The train whistles blew in the distance again,
I am thinking about love,
About how things come up just a bit too short,
God never seems to give you quite enough to cover the void,
The smell of sheets,
The light on the wall faintly makes a human figure,
It's just the neighbor kid smoking a cigarette,
This cage is cold tonight.
