It hurts.

from willowdot21

willowdot21

It Hurts.

Shoe laces taken

All you know, shaken

Not  a  razor  or  knife in sight

Still the pain sears through the night.

Corridors full of  eternal walkers

Going  nowhere, watched  by  stalkers.

Screams  erupt  so do  tussles

Held down by  ‘staff ‘ with muscles.

Nothing  stops  the pain  NOTHING

Smile at family don’t let them see the bluffing.

It hurts, it  hurts  you  needs  to  bleed

A sacrifice to the demon’s seed.

Doors  slam, locks  turn

Fears  grow behind  doors  souls burn

Help me  please help me

Blind eyes don’t see…………

Shoe laces taken

All you know,  shaken

Not  a  razor  or  knife in sight

Still  the pain sears  through  the night.

This is for mental health day

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#Poetry: After the Reading

My favorite
characters
have spilt
my guts
in public–

Now alone
with
my ‘self’

though

I

am
perhaps
a pretty
lie.

The globe
spins for
the sake
of

tradition

Gravity
binds
us to

memories
and visions
of sudden
lingering-

death.

Words and image (c) Rob Goldstein 1986, 2014, 2020

Poetry: A Day in the Hospital

A piece

of me

dangles

above

newborn

eyes-

Legs jig

arms spin

but that

ball

of intellect

lies

that ball

of rage

cuts

this ball

of love

falls

and

bounces

away.

We are at root causes.

Scent of remembered

sweat:

through cracks

it drips,

Yet now–

…silence…


(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2020

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the unraveling

This poem by Kat Myrman is so beautiful I had to share it.

like mercury colliding...

the unraveling

the tapestry is unraveling
earthy tones of brown and
tan, yellow and red fading,
white patches soiled from
blood and tears, offering no
warmth, no consolation,
threads splintering, breaking
unable to hold together the
dreams of the innocents
wrapped in it like a shroud…
where are the seamstresses
with steady hands and nimble
fingers, trembling with needles,
eyes too narrow to thread, to
mend the tatters, to scrub
the fabric clean, to restore
the tapestry, or better yet,
to weave a new cloth, one
that is brilliant, softened
with batting, large enough
to cover all who slumber,
to shield us from nightmares,
from the darkest of nights,
to bring us safely to the dawn
we’re hanging by a thread
tossed by tempests, trembling,
chilled to our bones
while the world burns

~kat


Crawling out from under my rock. Sorry for my recent silence. I confess that I have…

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