|
Solace - Soul
= Soulless written by Stephie Goldfish Whom do I turn to for solace
when I feel so soulless
and life’s left me sapless
I turn to run to you
but when I do I find
just a mirage and I feel
even more helpless
I’ve searched so many places
and lovingly faces
to find solace in
hidden traces
of you
This "Solace"
poem is part of a Random Acts of Poetry prompted by L.L. Barkat over at The High Calling.
Click on the link below to read the full article and other poems about "solace":
"Supersized Solace" by L.L. Barkat
Stephaniah’s Phantasmagoria Bills, bills, bills, paying bills Pills,
pills, pills, popping pills Sipping Pepsi, Sucking Popsicles
Saturday morning thrills
Budgeting,
buying, spending, Breathing, sighing, exasperated, Relax, get so excited.
“You
huffin’ puffin’ billygoat!”
Psychiatrist,
Psychologist, Cardiologist, Gastritis, Colitis, Endocarditis, Hematology, Otolaryngology, Gastroenterology,
“Nucular”
medicine
X-rayed, radiated, over-exposed
The Dr. Goldman’s, The Dr. Goldstein’s, The Dr. Zins’
Who mend broken hearts, begin
where our mothers leave off, and
recover us from our sins. Untitled Ripped out,
torn apart,
shredded,
down the drain.
So goes life,
opportunity,
chance of a lifetime.
Yet, hope is still there
like the sap of a tree
to take root again,
and let you believe
once more,
in life,
opportunity,
chance of a lifetime. Copyright March 27, 2010
Playing God They played God with our lives, Then played a game with our minds, And they sent us out into the world. They set the boundaries and set the stage Like we were living in a cage Being viewed as a freak show. Until the appointed time for matters to be revealed, Until too late to be healed From a damaged heart and broken mind.
Little White Gods
Side by side lie little white
gods Like a mass grave In a John DiGianni designed box; Kills
in bold letters strategically placed.
Side by side lie little white gods
Snakes of smoke linger about her throat Suffocating
her very soul As her desires die with each satisfying draw.
Side
by side lie little white gods
With yellow fingers and black
lungs In image of their maker With crimson stained filter butts.
Side by side lie little white gods
In beds of lust, Moments of
weakness, Then feelings of disgust.
Side by side lie little
white gods
Intoxicating liquor upon her breath And scents of white shoulders Kissing death.
Side by side
lie little white gods
Light one for Jeffrey, Natasha, and Katrina Laid out in the sanctuary.
Side by side lie little white gods
Burnt by the fire Sitting in
coldness In nights’ darkest hour.
Side
by side lie little white gods
Slowly dying, burning out, Return to ashes, Return
to their God.
Curtains
Electric orange curtains trimmed the park,
Brightened up long winter days
of dark.
Through these gates of curtains that flowed in the air,
Went off many quivering lips a solemn silent prayer.
Riding along in the M96 from the West Side to the East Side,
The Annenberg juts up through the bare trees and
into the sky,
Like an architecturally designed Darth Vader.
I recall the first time I was taken down its sterile
halls,
Getting closer and closer, feeling colder and colder,
Afterwards walking along and closely observing the
posters on the walls.
White and blue pinstripe curtains hung from the ceiling,
When I regained full consciousness
and feeling,
The stinging shots of Heparin
Being stuck in my barren abdomen.
The white linen curtains
we washed and ironed that day,
No longer hang in the windows that are vacant.
MagnitudeThe heavy weight of this pain buries me alive. I breathe, but the
air is getting thinner. I feel palalyzed with no way out. My soft faint cries pray for someone to rescue me from this unimaginable fate. Beyond this hell, I hear life. They are trying
to break through the barriers that traps me here. Working vigorously around
the clock they toil the plunder. As day turns to night and night turns to
day, I lose my sense of time. What if no one comes to my rescue? Maybe no one can. I'm slipping into a dark
place, but there is a bright light that suddenly appears. I've finally been
found. The heavy weight of this pain keeps me alive. Copyright January 24, 2010
|
