Freeform (my comfort Zone)

I am what damns your soul,
the negation of your hopes,
the madness making skeletons
of children
while watchers suck
cooked meat from bones;

I am despairing mother
crying for her babies
in the cold,
their father jailed
for stealing what would
fill his children's
empty bellies,

I sit
with an emptiness
that fills me up -
a longing so deep
the well
has dried up.

I cry
with a sadness
that says: 'Don't go"
a melancholy
so dark
it destroys the soul.

I come
from a place
called "never enough"
There's hunger at the table
There's thirst in the cup
a need so great
no feast can fill up.

BjR 29 November, '10

.
.
Once in a while my thoughts turn
to everything
intuited
imagined
felt
manifest
and not.

And it is as if my mind
opens
widens
expands
reaches
to give a tangible glimpse
of something wonderful.

And a wave of joy
delivering a fluttering truth
excites my heart
lifts my soul
and I almost
almost
perceive it all.

But the enormity is too vast
and before I can grasp it
it is gone.

beauty and long sleep
walk sacred paths of winter
'til new dawn of spring

She stood on top of the crest of the falls,
As sunlight danced within the rushing waters.
Hands spread upwards in meditation,
Speaking to the inner powers to appear.
Her full-length emerald green cloak
Whipping in the wind that burst forth.
As she stood on top of Kaaterskill Falls,
The wind gushed, throwing her hood aside
Letting loose a wave of waist length auburn hair.
Her green eyes flashed as she chanted.
Dazzling rays of prism light
Danced forth from her right hip,
Her powers, being flocked together.

Witch

I walked across the broken glass to be with you
My feet were torn to pieces
You looked at me and let out a laugh
Knowing you'd led me down the garden path

I ran across the burning embers to hold you
My skin was burnt and charred
You looked at me and kicked me hard
Knowing my heart would be forever scarred

A witch without a heart
A whore without feeling
A bitch to lead me on
After all those things for you I had done

Cover me
like the scene descending
outside our windows
with a fresh start
with the cold beauty
of pure intent

Blanket me
with sparkling softness
Create me
the world, anew

Give me eyes
like this child's
wide with wonder
seeing
for the first time
this snow

trapped here in the middle creation
that separates heaven and the underworld,
I was struck by blazing arrows coming down
a sign of self-destruction made by the anger of The Almighty..

the days from my flesh banished innocent hearts to arrogance,
all the time as when God saved the Devil;
crawling for forgiveness for something not to be forgiven,
before stepping out from something real but forbidden..

if I'm American...
i might fill my hunger with breads and cakes. not with rice.
and probably encountered temptations of sex-permissive girls
scattered on Vegas lights.

if I'm Mexican...
it would more likely for me to turn to as a boxer.
one of those guys grasping for the healthiest grilled potato,
to beat Pacman the "Mexi-cutioner"...

`

Rough is the wind that flattens
a tree from its anchored moor,

a destiny not too quick to ruin
presents a whispered word to me:

on we traverse without respite
that weary road we take,

what imprint is left behind
that sweeps relentlessly against these walls--

a spectre of bygone landscapes
whose blustering gusts are raptured calls

`