Dreamweaver – Nightmares of Abuse

“My father was one of those men who sit in a room and you can feel it: the simmer, the sense of some unpredictable force that might, at any moment, break loose, and do something terrible.
[Burnside, p. 27]”
John Burnside, A Lie About My Father: A Memoir 

The following is an excerpt from the hopeforhealing.org.,  poetry by survivors of sexual or domestic violence.

 

aneasylife4u

Come, beckons the night,
Let us dance together, and chase the dream weaver
I am not laughing at you
It is only the laughter of the past
Rushing through your brain
 
I am harmless, why do you resist me so?
Pearls of wisdom are here within my walls
And peace offerings as well
Yet you quake at the sight of me
My power has not alluded you
 
Need I remind you?
You cannot resist me forever!
I am that necessary evil
Which recreates evil past
My nourishment lies in your screams
So, foolish one, scream on!
 
No one is listening, no one hears
Wake them; tell them of your sad tales
I will recapture them before your voice silences
But they will not find your persecutor
And will think you mad
 
Reach for the sun, it is hours ’til its’ dawn
As I am your punisher, it is your reward
However, for now I am your companion
Let us dance together, and chase the dreamweaver
Come, I beckon you
011912

Empathy

This method of writing eliminates as many words as I can from an existing piece to create a new element. I leave it open to your capable imagination my dear friends.

 “Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant with the weak and wrong. Sometime in your life, you will have been all of these.” – Gautama Buddha

infocaremd.
New
Seeing smiles, feeling frowns
Hearing empty laughter 
tears
Wet my reaching palm
A facade of silent screams
Searching, a waiting heart 
mourns
 Strangers will never know
 Old
I see their smiles, I feel their frowns
 
I hear their laughter, their tears wet my palm
 
Their facade is perfect, their silent screams for relief wake me
 
Even in laughter their heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 
 
 
I see your smile, I feel your frown
 
I hear your laughter, your invisible tears wet my palm
 
Your facade is perfect, your silent scream for relief wakes me
 
Even in laughter your heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2010/12/empathy.html#sthash.azi4OmuA.dpuf

I see their smiles, I feel their frowns
 
I hear their laughter, their tears wet my palm
 
Their facade is perfect, their silent screams for relief wake me
 
Even in laughter their heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 
 
 
I see your smile, I feel your frown
 
I hear your laughter, your invisible tears wet my palm
 
Your facade is perfect, your silent scream for relief wakes me
 
Even in laughter your heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2010/12/empathy.html#sthash.azi4OmuA.dpuf

I see their smiles, I feel their frowns
 
I hear their laughter, their tears wet my palm
 
Their facade is perfect, their silent screams for relief wake me
 
Even in laughter their heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 
 
 
I see your smile, I feel your frown
 
I hear your laughter, your invisible tears wet my palm
 
Your facade is perfect, your silent scream for relief wakes me
 
Even in laughter your heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2010/12/empathy.html#sthash.azi4OmuA.dpuf

I see their smiles, I feel their frowns
I hear their laughter, their tears wet my palm
 
Their facade is perfect, their silent screams for relief wake me
 
Even in laughter their heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 
 
 
I see your smile, I feel your frown
 
I hear your laughter, your invisible tears wet my palm
 
Your facade is perfect, your silent scream for relief wakes me
 
Even in laughter your heart mourns, how does a stranger know?
I see their smiles, I feel their frowns
 
I hear their laughter, their tears wet my palm
 
Their facade is perfect, their silent screams for relief wake me
 
Even in laughter their heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 
 
 
I see your smile, I feel your frown
 
I hear your laughter, your invisible tears wet my palm
 
Your facade is perfect, your silent scream for relief wakes me
 
Even in laughter your heart mourns, how does a stranger know? 

– See more at: http://www.opinionsofeye.com/2010/12/empathy.html#sthash.azi4OmuA.dpuf


revised 10242013
 

Sheets

“The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss of blankets.” – Rupert Brooke

nicholaspadula
We succumb to the softly falling sheets, gently settling, as a billow of laughter touches our skin lightly at first, then, holding us in cool delight. Little is known of the heat born as the neatly lying cotton cage begins to twist and flip while we twirl beneath it. We give birth in our playful gathering to memories, touches that last and excite through the night, the dawn, and the new day and days. There is where our happiness finds a purchase, in wrinkled sheets lying on the bed’s corner, falling on the floor, leaving us to cover our nakedness with a dozen pillows that allow our satiated skin, still wet with the practice of secret pleasure, to peek out in childish delight. 

Also published in Broowaha

Cleft Derision

“…independent and brave, and sure of himself and of the importance of his work, because if he isn’t he will never survive the scorching blasts of derision that will probably greet his first efforts.”

derision preemption – a life-style tactic; the refusal to go out on any sort of emotional limb so as to avoid mockery from peers.”- 

Sorrow is better than laughter, she whispered

Sharpening the knife of her concupiscence

Drawing a razor’s edge across the wrist of commitment


Tears define your purpose and cleanse your soul, she mumbled

Hacking at the cords of her errant desire

Carving the yearning arms of safety and family


Cries hone the instincts and rebuke complacency, she sang

Slicing through passion with words of dark rejection

Cutting with lust and splittinghearts asunder in cleft derision

05222012

Reason and Rhyme

“You’re right, he’s a killer,” you said. “A rooster with some serious issues.”
Lucy Christopher, Stolen
 

lauramcintosh

I came sowing with tears into the life of your ruin


Knowing the pain will come to roost with me soon

Laughter is strange in this world of gloom

I lay down my peace to dance with your tune

Listen with care you simple of heart and small mind

Take this advice, listen to reason and rhyme

To ruin me were thoughts but you could only try

Never to win, this morning the rooster won’t die

Beautiful Silence – Words never heard, but plainly understood

“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.”
Elbert Hubbard
 

bpl

Evening unexpected, a happening unforeseen

Things all new, before not a thought
Following the wild road
Only going where I don’t plan

Beautiful silence, the wind not whispering a thing
as it plays with your hair.
Beautiful silence, the moon quietly casting shadows
of our hands dancing together
Beautiful silence, the clouds a captive audience
to our tryst by the sea.

Seeing miracles as I let go
Holding you close a myth is born
The night still young with untapped energy
Laughter unfolds, unprovoked and easy

Beautiful silence, the wind not whispering a thing
as it plays with your hair.
Beautiful silence, the moon quietly casting shadows
of our hands dancing together
Beautiful silence, the clouds a captive audience
to our tryst by the sea.

Reality blurs into a dream
Thoughts quiet now except for the pursuit
Good things do happen, I take the chance
I wake with a smile, oh what a night.

Also published in Broowaha
01082012 

Pleasant Company – Nature’s brotherhood

“Our task must be to free ourselves… by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and it’s beauty.” Albert Einstein

DMW Sager

Start off easy, morning sun, waves in the distance, crashing their applause. Wind tickles the leaves creating an uproar of green and brown laughter. The wind again, running through the boughs, skipping with childish delight from one branch to the next. Spotlights, sun breaking through the tropical canopy, like lights on a dance floor. The trees give up a few tired friends, they fall to the ground, a crackle, snap, and a crunch, their dieing cry. Some stubborn appendages hang on for dear life, rigor mortise has their woody fingers clinging to rebellion against nature’s whips. Through the clearing, a dark blue sea, a stark contrast to the subtle deep green and yellow new growth. Not to be forgotten even miles away from its brother forest, waves cheer back, their voice carried by the mediating wind. Peace my younger brothers, sing with exuberance at the arrival your visitor.