Pillow Talk

                         

Trying to hold back these tears is like trying to hold a ball of cloud in your grasp;
Ultimately, between lip-bitting, lips trembling escape tiny gasps.
Those tiny wisps of cotton-looking pleasure you're trying so hard to reach,
As another harsh life lesson life attempts to teach.
They will fall, let them fall, surely they must end.
The question we're often crippled by is 'but when??'

Dry pillows -I know that's all that you want,
To escape the feeling of pain that constantly haunts,
Taunts, pecking at your shell, penetrating your core,
The hacking sobs leaving your once strong muscles sore.


Will the darkness not come to hide these tears to usher me into the sleep of blissful oblvion?
'Til morning arrives and the mask I must once more dorn.
Must it come though? morning light, to challenge my growing skills of deceipt.
You see me smiling but wet pillows are my receipt.


                       

(From the anthology "The Voice" by yours truly)

The Voice

"The tongue can paint what the eyes can't see". (Chinese proverb)

Welcome!

Here's a prelude to my very own anthology of poems dubbed "The Voice", that was started years before its inception and, as the sands of time, likely equally unsure of the date of its completion!

Here you will find different voices resonating through your mind's ears, stimulating you to empathise, observe and ponder just a little bit more. Not everything is as it seems, not every view you've heard, not every perspective has been shared. You'll find entries often penned at the many peaks and troughs of my spectrum of emotions in reflection of experiences that have deeply captured my attention.

Let's let the lovely literary juices flow! Trod gently this journey whose corridors are the prisms of opinions and reality.

Atlas:

1.Pillow Talk
2.Living Among the Dead
3.To Be or Not to Be
4.The  Rising 
5.These Eyes
...To be continued!

Living Among the Dead

 

Help!
I cry from my rock hard bed of stones,
My only reassurance of life is the painful sounds of groans and moans
Some of which I'm not even certain are my own.
Am I alone?No-others are slowly dying around me too,
I'm beginning to think my moments of being alive are but few.
Alas!The hub of strong strange voices is the welcoming music I hear,
Help!But they seem so far away, yet so ver,very near...
Help!I cry with what little strength I have left,
Don't leave...not yet...not yet...
(Voice of a Haitian victim)

I'm helping to save lives and even recover the dead,
It's rewarding, fulfilling, heart-wrenching, dread.
The Caribbean sea swells with the volume of tears being shed.
(Voice of a search and rescue personnel)

 I'm alive!But my family is in there too!
 Can't you do something?Is that my sister's   shoe?
 See her lying lifeless, wounded, still,
 What angered Mother Nature, causing her   my sister to kill?
 (Voice of a survivor).

Too much voodoo down there!
Too much evil dominates their land!
So the Most High had to step in and take a stand!
Food for thought,yes, but are we any more deserving than them?
Don't we too kill,maime, steal,sin everyday? What gauaranteed us being spared the same fate?
(Voices of one who judges and one representing the judged).

Thank God for life, His mercies, food, clothing, shelter
These things I can so freely enjoy
While Haiti lies in ruins,
Those alive struggling to survive among the dead.
(Voice of one thankful)

Which are YOU????

 *Written  January 10, 2010 during the immediate aftermaths of that devastating earthquake in Haiti a few hours earlier*

*Divided we fall,united we stand*