Robert Louis Stevenson - childhood revisited

I need no mirror to scout it out,
I'm beginning to think
Now,
I know myself more than yesterday,
And the day before.

I have a little shadow,
A little dark patch on my heart,
I can see it whether I look or not
'Tis felt
Within and without.

I try to pinch it hard, between my fingers
I try to snuff it out,
I've left it to fester too long,
I let it grow and spread all about.

The dark patch,
Oh so clever it is,
It knows its ways around my heart,
It knows me better than I know me,
It cons her again and again, 
So 'tis its art.

Erasing, no, it works not a bit,
Frantic, frenzy, it stays put.
This little shadow, this little me,
Disown it? I know not how.

To burn, cherish light and fire,
Set ablaze corridors of wealth,
Scrimp the scrimpers, toggle the hate,
Gear to gentleness,
Let goodness be might;
Watch, watch how it trembles itself
Out of existence.


Linked to Carry On Tuesday - 'I have a little shadow'

Express.

Hold breath, let words flow
Into days of memories;
Life's like poetry.


Linked to Carry On Tuesday - 'Life's like poetry'

Half for a Whole.

The grills, they keep me locked in;
Security for those on the outside.
Do they fear my insanity?
They must have none of it themselves,
Well-nurtured, TLC-surfeit?
Extensively though you guard your heart,
You harden and yet soften
At the same time.
They will try, try, try,
Delving, searching, prodding your defenses,

And hoping none make claims.

Do they fear my insanity?
They must, surely, they must have none of it themselves.
Tiring, to find a pair;
Two minus one = present and future?

--

Linked to Sunday Scribblings.
Prompt: search

Shaky sensations and tingly skin.

Linked to Sunday Scribblings


I sat quietly, on the side,
Cross-legged, with the blue-box-T-sheet leaving marks on my skin,
I lay down,
Then sat up,
Fidgety.
Eyes closed, I listened
to the breathing, the unlabored snores:
The slightest hitch - my eyelids frantically peeled back,
Assurance was needed.
I waited, watched the clock,
Imagined the little armies leading the fight,
In their swimmy world of red and white.
I blew on swollen fingertips to calm shaky hands,
The clock watched me.
Suddenly I was scared adolescent, wide-eyed, unsure,
Until the half hour passed, taking the sensation with it,
I was careful adult woman again,
Taking measurements, administering elixirs,
Then sinking back silently to my cool retreat,
Ever-watchful.
Worrisome.
Adolescence was back - delirium memories and bitter tonics,
I swallowed it down, donned patience.
Watched the clock, let the ticking wash over my mind,
Until I was woman again,
Careful, adult,
Daughter.


My father has dengue fever. Please pray.

Early morning poetry

It started with a single verse of Pink Floyd. And he wrote. And i wrote.
It is... I


Pink Floyd: Tongue-tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit.. I


D: Left-alone mystery just an unimportant history.. I


R: Blue black and bruised just a solitary muse.. I


D: Pink purple cliche'd just an only climax delayed.. I


R: Wrap-around and hopeful just an introverted local.. I


D: Much taunted insanity mixed glum-haunted sanity.. I


R: Whipped-up dreaming with cotton candy scheming.. I


D: Stuffed up confusions but unstoppable intrusions.. I


R: Darned holy intentions and yet screwed up redemptions.. I

june 24th

I have carved your name in ebonywood,
Solid black with spidery rifts.
Stick figures dancing across the length and breadth;
Essence
Of scented sandalwood.
You will run your fingers across these scars
Until
The numbness gets imprinted.

I am a day flower

-
I have seen better days,
Under azure skies and purple clouds;
I have felt before,
This light, and darkness,
And the cold wind stinging my face --
Not cool, not refreshing.
I have seen the autumn leaves strewn across your path
And crunched my way
Toward oblivion and peace;
Rockets spewing hazy smoky somethings,
Out and over your head.
I have felt before this modest beginning,
This search for truth,
This display of innocence,
This image shattered by thorny lives
And hopeless endings.
I have seen before the walkways of your life
White sand beaches and gray sky mornings,
No deep-fried throbbing, only bitter pain,
Waiting to be spit out.
I have watched, and waited,
And then watched some more
(Waiting needs to become a habit)
I trod carefully over your scattered bones,
Lest I made another misstep
Again.
I tended the plants in your garden,
Then watched them
Wither.
I choked the vines with my bare hands,
Then watered the
ground, with my tears.
(Exceptions).

I have felt.

That is enough,
For now.
News when I do, not when I don't.
Exemplifying mindless mannequins
Twisting marionettes - hollow sawdust
And bones.
Watch foreheads wrinkle,
Temples throb,
Eyelids twitch
Forever.
I have seen before this sunset
Crimson-red, gold, lavender, gray
Swirling rocky mountain, and blueberry streams;
I have tasted your candyfloss dreams
Let them fade and dissolve and swirl away
Until anomalies appear;
And crush them.

(I am a day flower, I bloom in the day).
-