(Two poems written at age 18)

PREGNANT MADONNA

Holy Mother of God, mother to be

I wonder if—

if the second coming of Christ is near?

In the kitchen

it's cold standing on the hard wood floor before

a sketch of Mary

with a crowned fetus cradled in her arms

help us Jesus

In the news they don't talk about it anymore

the greed to choose

My Dad's sketch clear and fragile as thin ice

drawn in pencil

on scraps of time uneaten by a cookie

factory that 

in it's inconstant infernal mercy

allows us to live

—sad manifestation of the proud world

perhaps it's happened

that the Savior at rest in a womb

has been murdered?

(Jan. 28, 1998)

This poem submitted to a poetry anthology "Rhymes of Greatness," you know the kind where they jury-in just about everybody in the hopes that the enthused aspiring poet will purchase the book so the group can recoup funds/make a profit... background in interpreting this somewhat uncharacteristic write for the time (being quite personal and in poem form): My mother's name is Mary; my sister was expecting an unexpected baby, my father was an Artist though he did not "earn-a-living" by it and was in physical pain from factory-work related injuries...

Below another poem, needing no explanation really, except to note that it was submitted to a similar anthology published by the Poetry Guild; it has some awkward grammar that I had insisted upon at the time... in both poems I have faithfully transcribed the exact texts, despite being tempted to tweak here and there...

(Feb. 12, 1998)

SEA

Ah! steady and powerful force of sea

How kindly it flows over its own;

Protecting its inhabitants gently

And this ocean, itself vast, is sewn

Of, to, many immense forms— so peacefully

That only littleness could dare dethrone!

Ne'er vicious, it follows Law gracefully.

This sea thus could, with thought and skill, be our...

That we might seize what is in our power—

Not worthless trinkets of so soil'd money—

But now rolling up our sleeves happily,

And bringing forth our dust rags, though late hour

Begin to fill our responsibility

To, with all creation, live easily

#FoundPoetryPieces #Challenge

<font face="Helvetica" size="3" color="silver">02.25.2018</font>

Write

Write your love

And write your fear

And write it all out crystal clear

So you can then reread your verse

Traverse a written universe

Enshrined inside your poignant words

It matters not how long or terse

Your pensive prose will one day birth

Progeny of love and fear

Depicted candid and sincere

Thus you may know what’s in your soul

Know it all and know it whole

So all that peer upon your prose

And stop to probe what you compose

And forgo all they know

Can freely read beyond the ink

And comprehend what poets think

And thus they may then understand

The feelings of an unknown man

And learn to love all unknown men

Regardless of their speech or skin

And begin to mend the world again

To quell the swells of spite and sin

And defend against spells of despair

Resolving resentment here and there

Resolved because you dared to bare

Your soul which through your prose was shared

And swear to make the world aware

Of how to love and how to care

And ensure that none become ensnared

In all the hate we must beware

Through motley words and rhymes declared

In pedantic prose you’ve pruned and pared

With all your will withheld within

Conveyed through heart and mind and pen

This poem and more are available in my poetry collection which is currently free on Amazon at the following link:

https://www.amazon.com/This-Death-Love-Travis-Liebert-ebook/dp/B079WN6GPK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1519240172&sr=8-1&keywords=travis+liebert

You know

What hurts the most

about a broken heart

Not remembering

How you felt before

Even if you want to

Him: If you could have one thing only what would that be?

Her: A room full of flowers.

Him: I’d only want one thing. (He said as he winked at her).

The next day she could not believe her eyes- the room was filled with flowers in every corner.

Then the door opens. And a breakfast tray is placed ontop of the silver triple bedside drawer.

Her- (She thought to herself with a grin) I could get used to this.

#Breakfastinbed

#Flowers

#Whatmorecouldsheaskfor?

Anger rules my every day.

Turning blue skies into grey.

I try and control my foul mood

So I won’t be mean and rude

Anger is such a hungry beast

It devours your soul just like a feast

Anger can drive away your friends

And bring your relationships to an end

Take control, beat that foe

Do your best to let anger go.

<center><table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="10"><tr><td>we were rounded up<br>and rounded down<br>fragments paraded around<br>as guards made these rounds<br>not figures in-the-round<br>but part-n-parcel pushed around<br>life bends that we were rounding<br>had sent us spinning-round<br>pale halo so well rounded<br>yet few strokes of luck around<br>just us, just us, just round<br>round-n-round-n-round<br>in our green, grays, brown<br>black-n-blueness all around</td>

<td><img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/9e/Vincent_Willem_van_Gogh_037.jpg/497px-Vincent_Willem_van_Gogh_037.jpg" width="325" height="450"></td></tr></table><br></center><p>

 #VanGoghChallenge #TheRoundOfPrisoners1890

<font face="Helvetica" size="3" color="silver">02.16.2018</font>

I can't fucking live like this anymore.

I have no freedom what so ever I'm suffocating.

I can't do this anymore.

I'm drowning.

Fucking kill me now I can't do this anymore.

Sorry I'm just spiraling down to a pit of rage and depression and wanting to sleep outside in 18 degree weather so I can die of hypothermia.

I can't live like this any longer, I can't do it I'm not strong enough.

I've done it for too long am I'm breaking.

I can't drag myself along any further I've been fighting for 7 years there is no way out.

I'm trapped in the physical world and in my mind.

I desperately need a distraction right now.... the voices are screaming louder and making my heart and chest feel like they're collapsing, I feel like I'm drowning and I'm trying to not start begging for someone to stab me in this growing cavern in my chest, to fill it with steel and twist the blade in deep. I just want the pain to go away. I'm shattering and my smile is becoming fractured. I can't pretend I'm okay anymore I don't want to live like this anymore and I can't drag myself any further. I'm a husk of a girl that once was strong and now is being blown over with to softest of whispers and I'm being flattened and torn apart by the howling screams. I try to not worry those I love but I'm hanging by a fantasy thread that I'm trying to use to make me think that I'm fighting as always when in reality it's just my insanity I'm escaping to when I try to ignore how rock bottom I really am. These are my string of thoughts that I can't escape and I can't stop writing as I'm a puppet inside, pulling at strings to throw myself through the motions and play the part of someone who is free of a script when I'm chained down to the stage and I'm falling through the floor boards, suffocating on lies that I'm okay and the dust of the past filling my lungs and eyes till can't breathe without crying through flashbacks and feeling old and worthless with the dust I've let gather on my soul that I've never tried to clean and nurture. I can't fight the voices anymore I'll I can do is numb myself with my ADD meds for several hours before the voices come in like an incoming tide. The water level of bad thoughts rising until I'm drowning in them. I'm tired, scared, and broken. I desperately trying to keep myself together but new blow after blow of events keep knocking over any attempt I try to make, draining my will to try again.

One part of me just wants to curl up on the floor and cry, a big part of me wants to drive to your place and just hug you and not let go, another wants to try cutting again, and another tiny part of me wants to try taking 10 of my add meds and 15 melatonin tablets and see what happens.....

I have been going through another bad bought of depression lately and I thought I would fight it off like normal, but with my parents turning off my data so that I can't use anything to communicate with anyone unless I'm at home or have connection to wifi makes me feel more isolated and trapped and than usual and I can't take the conscious knowledge of how truely freedomless I am. The voices were already getting bad but now they are overwhelming me and lack of sleep and stress makes me feel that loss of energy to even try fighting back or doing anything besides letting the voices and bad thoughts roam free.

I hate living like this but I can't find the strength to stop it.

(Note: These are some real text messages I sent to my best friend New Years Day when I was having a midnight mental breakdown from depression that she helped me through. I love her with every fiber of my being and I am so fortunate grateful to have her in my life. I don't know what I would have done if she wasn't there for me. She told me to get some sleep and destracted me with plans for hanging out the next day. Having something to look forward to helped me to focus on just pushing through everything till I got to see her again. Because just being in her presence helps me relax and feel happier. I love you, sis and I couldn't imagine a world without you in it.)

(2nd Note: Remember that you are loved. You are worth so much. You are human. You are beautiful. You are amazing. You are NOT ALONE. Remember to always keep fighting.)

#mentalillness #depression #anxiety #reallife #texts #mentalbreakdown #suicidalthoughts

Never been so confused...

...In a world, win or lose,

Where the options

Dry up,

And then strike, and

Ignite...

Taking time to explore...

...Rig each unstable

Core,

And the lines we ignore

Come back likely

To burn...

...All the trash has been

Powdered,

And it gives off

It's charge!...

I'm inside of their chamber...

...Just like some prison

Yard...

And my thousand mile stare

Can be

Read by the watch

...But they won't catch the

Light...

...Only glance through

The slots

To assess that I'm eating

The rations at hand...

...No, I won't become

Shell casings!...

...Watching time

Turn to sand...

©

2018

Bunny Villaire

the following quite quirky epistle may not exhibit the ordinary characteristics of poetry, but i decided to share this self made challenge (where every word begins with the letter "S" - no explanation can be offered why such self cerebral torture imposed, nor what motivated me to focus on the nineteenth letter of the english alphabet at the exclusion of other noble vowels and consonants.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Sunday September seventh started seemingly same since...silver screen show secured seventy seven SeventhSeals.

Soupy Sales supreme salient strengths (starring smart snarky sidekick Springer Spaniel Socrates same species sansSnoopy) salvaged sagging sporting sorties. Slap stick stereotypical swashbuckling shticks supplied shipshape shenanigans.

Spartan stage set spurred spontaneous simply stupefying solution. Suede shod schlemiel. Sartre seasoned scenes. Sharp sticks supported sphere. Seats situated semicircular semblance.

SPCA, Siemens, Sears sponsored soiree. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious shouted satirically 'specially Saturdays seemingly sellout. Spontaneous spritely Shogun Samurai sangroid stance satiated slipups stripping stellar seasoned Skidamarinks substitutes sacredly, seminally, silently, slipstreaming soulfully saving saga.

Sometimes silly spouse studiously sought spurious strategy stringing superlatives showcasing senseless sophomoric soporific skills specifically spelling storybook sassy sharpshooters supposedly sleuthing shapeless seated sideways (sic seasonal slate smug spotified snapchatting skippers selfishly scooped sloop-ful seasonal six-packs) sinister Swiss scalpers sat sometimes squatted.

Sirens sounded secretly securing source. Strait sacks swooshed scamps scaling sensitive sentries (simply spayed seals) surveying surrounding staked spy sotted sham semicircular slipshod shelter. Snappy, Snippy, Snoopy suited Skyhawks surprisingly swooped somnambulant senseless scriveners.

Sargent Shriver Salemander slipped shiny shimmering shellacked Sheppards Shutterfly sidearms sized simulated small skyscraper slinky, soapy, spooky squarely summoned, sentenced, sacrificed see swarthy Samsonite satraps Section SpecialOps.

Sometime soon savior snuck stealthily stealing sinful schleppers. sundown syzygy saw serendipitous, surreptitious, surreptitious segue-way shuttled safely Scottish shoals. Stigmatization stayed steady. Supplication statements swatted. Sole survivor swiftly spun self shaming sesquipedalian soliloquy. Sea side serenade soon spewed solipsism saving Slim Shady.

Sayonara seminal surfer swirling scarily sans sinister serpentine silent space.

<center>I <br>am <br>the <br>fool <br>standing <br>at the corner <br><br>{puddle}<br> <br>holding <br>the <br>balloon <br>that <br>reads <br><br>"forever" <br> <br>*

#Sadness #Challenge

<font face="Helvetica" size="3" color="silver">01.18.2018</font>