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 Jul 2014 Clara Oswin
Cee Valenso
I apologize
You were a decimated book
That I promised to renew
But as I kissed your lips
And caressed your face
In the most gentle way I could
More pages were torn and shredded

I apologize
You were the pouring rain
And I loved feeling raindrops
On my skin
But as you shower me
With your words, emotions, fears
I seek for shelter in haste

I apologize
You were a neglected garden
I strayed from my home's path
And I saw you
I told you I would be back
Help you regain your life
But I forgot where you are

I apologize
You were the twinkling stars
Even your slightest smile
Illuminated the black sky
But my eyes were transfixed
On the cracks of my ceiling
I can't look at you anymore

I apologize
You were both gems and pearls
My filthy, rough hands
Have dared to touch you, love you
I said I will take care of you
But old habits die hard
I keep breaking you
 Jul 2014 Clara Oswin
Cee Valenso
Oblivion is the pit of this ravine
And I'm holding onto a feeble vine for dear life
You screamed, "Don't let go!"
My hands are losing its grip
Then you toss me a knife

Nowhere is the destination of this path
Still, I'm trying to find the right way
You said, "Don't get lost!"
My vision becomes hazy and unfocused
Then you give me the broken compass of yesterday

Pain is the entity waiting on the other side
I sink my feet deeper onto the floor
You whispered, "Don't leave me alone."
My fingers no longer hold the keys
Then I see you opening the door
 Jul 2014 Clara Oswin
Cee Valenso
Howling winds and angry skies
Restrained emotions freed through huge raindrops
Soft whimpers and unheard lullabies
A heart's quivering that never stops

Closed windows, but the curtains dance
A cacophonous song filling the mind
Vague silhouettes under a trance
Demons trying to unwind

Silence reigns, time stands still
Never close your eyes
An extemporaneous show, not a single drill
Yesterday is the last sunrise
 Jul 2014 Clara Oswin
Cee Valenso
I am a but a simple poet
A mere poet who is madly in love
Who had always aspired to write
The most beautiful poem

And that poem
I envision it to contain
Hundreds of adjectives
Describing beauty
Thousands of metaphors
Expressing desire to kiss soft lips
Millions of words
Of which, every single one
A pellucid manifestation
Of emotions I laboriously subdued
Within the confines of my chest
It shall include rhymes
Mellifluous tunes that pleasures the ears
Plus lines and verses
Embodying the flames of love

Then realization strikes me violently
Such concept will not produce
What is greatly desired
But I, a simple poet
Still has written the most beautiful poem
To ever exist
And it is written like this:



You.
Foundations were laid by hands that create the exploration of your Imagination when you choose to display your understanding of the Human Game
Either guided to expand or by your own hand it was all part of the bigger Plan which allowed the spaces of time to fill the cracks of your mind,
Progressing, regressing, following the Divine
Pattern of it all,
It's what we choose to involve,
Our Selves in

In the end it transforms the dusty cobwebs to ballroom floors and the hay bails to open arms, welcoming your Soul to take a seat, and relax in the strength of your Ancestors that rode so many miles before

To get you where you are, they rode through Conscious Expansion ******* with only FAITH that they would wake up on the other side with the same faces by their sides, in THIS reality

Forgiveness became key because it seems almost selfish to me to take the risk that could be, the end
Which they promise is the beginning
Which is a test of Faith, yet again
and again
and again
every time you blink, you think,
you are presented the opportunity
to change things

To BE a THOUGHT in the world that promotes
Positive Vibrations
Consciously

Keep faith that everything is working,  
The words that find me are the words that have found you,
Through it all, we walk together,
Through it all, we smile
<3
A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
                    A girl mad as birds

Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
                    Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds

Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
                    At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.

                    She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
                    Possessed by the skies

She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
                    Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.

And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
                    I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.
 Jul 2014 Clara Oswin
That Girl
Strike me with tragedy
We all ignorantly cry

What disease has our culture yet to romanticize?

We think we want tragedy
But all we ever wanted was sympathy
We want sympathy for our human condition
Validation for our struggles
We want the attention that cancer would cause
So pathetic that we wish this, as those who suffer from illness would do anything to make it go away
It is not their wish or fault
We are such self-centred creatures

Be thankful for your health, pray for those who are ill
I remember when I was lost in depression and self-loathing,
how alone I felt.

Even when I was surrounded by people, who I loved and loved me, I felt disconnected and numb.

This poem is a small message to all of you who felt and feel this way that you are not alone.

No suggestions or advice.  Often the friends and strangers that helped me the most when I was really lost in myself were the ones who drew near and were just with me.

A silent loving presence means a lot when you feel numb to life.  A simple tender touch might not break through the walls of depression in the moment, but I remember those warm touches in hind sight.  

Loving presence were subtle lamp posts that guided me out of the darkness of depression, resentments, self-pity, and hate.

All I have are these words as totems of a loving presence given to me by others that reminded me that I am not alone.  A gentle touch, a silent smile, or just hearing the breath of a loved one sitting quietly next to you.
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