Mask

Past the midnight hour I would lie still—
Passers by read peaceable expressions upon my countenance-
A gentle breeze rocks the branches on the trees outside
Words inscribed before their eyes would say all is well-
Clouds cover the sky,
Grass covers the ground upon which we walk and
Nobody sees beneath that sinister mask that I wear-
I have walked many miles and
Have seen this whole world-
Past the midnight hour I would lie motionless-
Beneath the mask I wear, are tear-filled eyes and
A blanket covers my angry heart-
People do not see beyond laughter and contentment
I was once a child who walked a different pathway
Those others have not walked before-
In this world there are many roads to travel upon,
Many mountains to climb-and many rivers to cross.,
Fear has driven my spirit away from walking in every direction –
Somewhere along the way I have chosen the wrong pathway towards finding my destiny
I am a lost soul without direction,
An angry spirit who has never known tranquility-
I would hide behind that mask now painted black,
Opaque so that my true self is indiscernible
If I could remove the darkened mask I wear and throw it to the wind
The world would see my tears fall as would a torrent of rain and
Look into my eyes and my thoughts would become their literature-
A horror story or a novel with a tragic ending-
And the pain of being stabbed in the heart with a sharpened bladed knife-
I am frozen in time- I only foresee one road upon which to travel
That is, the road to madness which is sadly all too familiar-
I stand at crossroads not knowing which direction to take in this life-
So I lie still in the darkness, hiding behind that black opaque mask-
Concealed from the world- unable to discern reality, and terrified of my surroundings.
People rarely look beyond surfaces- because of their own fears of what is real-
So they keep dancing, and laughing to their hearts’ content because
They are afraid to see the dimness on the far side of the river.
They wear their own masks with their eyes painted shut, wanting to believe
That the sky is always blue, even beyond dark clouds before a storm
Wishing to believe that a lighted candle of peace shall never burn out in time.

Claudia Krizay

Life

It has often been asked- what is the meaning of life?
It hardly matters or defines
What has generally been said everybody should believe,
As life is what each individual makes it to be.

It isn’t about fame and fortune for all,
It isn’t all about being beautiful
It isn’t about popularity, or
Playing and winning many games.

Some believe that life is a game
Because everybody is striving to succeed-
Others do not take life seriously and
To them, life is none but comical.

My own life has been a journey
A difficult one at that-
Nearly half a century ago I left this world
And found repose in my dreams.

Some would say my life is a fantasy and
Life is only about reality-
I believe that life is what one makes it to be, and
Whatever it takes to find happiness.

My father believed life is about fortune-
My mother believed in life people should strive for perfection.
I spent years looking for that fortune  
Trying to appear perfect in the eyes of my peers-

I have chased the real world away
Trying to find what life truly means to me-
Hearing voices only I can hear and
Drifting away into those miraculous castles in the sky-

In this life inside of my imaginings
I have found my peace, hope and escape from all that I fear.
It doesn’t matter that so many argue that this is not reality.
Because this is my life that I have created for myself.

This is the life that brings me peace of mind.
It is the life that magically brings me amazing visions.
This is the life which brings me joy and promise-
And that is what life means to me

To me it doesn’t matter what is or isn’t real.
When I lose myself inside the world of my dreams,
I find I am truly alive and have found my happiness-
As it has always been said, “to each is own”  

What brings contentment to one person
May not affect or bring joy to another
Life’s meaning is in the eyes of the beholder and
Everyone has different reasons for living.

Claudia Krizay

The Fence

A wooden fence once surrounded my home
Which I had hoped would keep out all intruders-
It was the fence my father had built
Years before his passing

Alive always inside a world of my own
I had built myself a different sort of fence-
One made of spoken words and angry gestures
That would ward away intruders I believed were always out to harm me.

A wooden fence can simply be sawed or broken down
When one is motivated to do so
And locks to their gates can be opened with a key
Therefore a wooden fence most likely will not shut the world out.

My own fence has shut the real world out
My soul and spirit are protected.
My special fence keeps me sheltered from the world outside
And is built from barbed wire of my imagination.

My mother and my father have passed away years ago-
They shall never become part of my private world –
It was not my wish that they would have ever been, as
They were forever trying to break down that fence that guarded my castle in the sky.

Now I am living in a different place in time-
Far from the wooden fence surrounding what was once my family’s home
Life is safer and not as threatening now
But I still with caution carry with me that extraordinary fence of my dreams.

Someday I hope that I can find that phantasmal key
That key that would unlock the gate to that protective fence of mine-
So that I could step out side, if only for a brief moment-
And hopefully learn that the real world is not a place to fear.

I hope that one day I shall awaken to a rainbow on my horizon
And that fence I have hidden behind for all the days of my life
Shall vanish as did the wooden fence had after so many years-
And I can find new freedom while I give thanks that I no longer have to be afraid.

Claudia Krizay

My Living Nightmare

I would play my father’s favorite sonata on my family’s grand piano
While he stood watching over me-Every morning to the late afternoon.
Voices inside of mind were commanding and
As a threatening black cloud became a curtain closing before my eyes,
I yearned to retreat to that hidden world of my own.

Although the tune I played was somewhat soothing,
Firecrackers were exploding inside of my mind-
My father was the taskmaster
Vociferating his own domineering commands –
He was the devil’s advocate and the slave driver ruling my life.

Inside of my mind were deeply rooted fears
Pain stabbing my heart with every palpitation
I can still hear those voices screaming that nobody else could fathom
Piercing my brain as would shards of broken glass-
As I can still see spiders crawling across the ceiling above me.

This is my state of mind that has rudely taken over my life
As if I were driving, losing control of the steering wheel and crashing-
Schizophrenia is the name that was given to define this turmoil that contains me
As I still have memories of lying unresponsive in a hospital seclusion room
In desperation hoping to somehow appease my troubled soul.

Memories and flashbacks plague me every day and night-
As I am playing the same sonata on the grand piano of my dreams
I lost my father twenty two years ago
His absence has brought me some relief from that never ending trepidation
But I still ask myself “what is this lurid demise that has stricken me truly all about?”

I believe that demons possessed my spirit before the day I was born-
My father believed my state of mind was merely about lassitude and misbehaving-
So I would play for him that same sonata on the grand piano he so often yearned to hear-
But I still cannot comprehend what went wrong on that journey towards my birth-
Whether I look backward in time or move forward- I guess I never will.

Claudia Krizay