Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the light inside
before it's gone
Hold on to the love you feel.

Darkness is coming around the bend
The plagues are moving in on the winds
The wars are raging in retaliation’s name
The sun is burning,
shooting solar flares our way.
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the wisdom of your mind

Life is precious
Comes and goes
Time is an illusion
That we all know
Lovers, they also come and go
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the light inside
The mandalas in the faces of the flowers
call your name.

Against all odds
Against the deranged machinations at the hands of the gods
We’re mere humans
Standing at the rim of the stars
Staring out into space
In this brief
Time and place  
Throwing sand at the waves
To  protect the
Sand castle walls we built,
As children at the ocean.
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on to the light inside
Childhood joy and wonder
Before it to comes and is gone.

I weep these tears
For the innocent sorrow of all mankind
Who has always been so sick inside
And never remembered to hold on
Hold on
Hold on
To the momentary flickers of all those lights inside

Hold on
Hold on
We all know what’s coming
Darkness to each and every one.

Let’s make this pact
In this room
We’ll hold on to the light inside
Until the last candle is done
And the last breath blows out the light
And whispers lovingly
“Good night.”

Hold on

Where in this life can one find
A golden heart, a heart that's pure?
A conscience that, with Peace aligned,
Can make our faith in Love assured?

Can it be found in modern man?
His search for meaning in Degrees?
In knowledge he relies upon
To cure the sickness... soul's disease?

Is it found within the mind?
The place where one's sad past resides?
Whatever will the doctors find?
Suss out the place where conscience lies?

Is it found in shifting stars?
In charts where moons and planets turn?
Can one map out this heart of ours?
Is our fate there? Assured and firm?

Is religion e'r the answer here?
Or, once more, a source of pain?
A source of strength or source of fear?
Should we search on once again?

For 'tis not the things we think,
Our pondering philosophy
Nor is it in our darkest link
With a past of misery.

It is not in ancient scrolls
Writings of the stars aligned
Nor is it works in laws of old,
A path of "goodness" wending. Blind.

It is within the heart itself
Where the Spirit has its place.
Where the Word of God Himself
Has given us amazing grace.

His heart, more pure than gold unearthed,
He walked with man, yet was alone,
Who has an estimate of worth
Of our High Priest and Cornerstone?

Abiding in a heart of grace
That's where purity doth live!
You are looking in His face,
Behold, in persons who FORGIVE.


SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 20, 2014

You've rattled my cage
You'd better get out of the way
You've woken up the beast in me.

Sleeping soundly
for so many years,
the vultures
sat by
its side
figuring after that last breath
no other is going to be sighed.

I had paid the mason
made promises to the poet
they were working on its headstone
writing out its epitaph
all in very serious tones.

But
your vacuum eyes saw too close
your breath crept on to mine
your words spun fantasies
your hands shook me awake.

The beast's eyes popped open
this is where *** and love
love and ***
become confused
because
the beast
can't say
and
he can't see
and
doesn't remember what was written
on his epitaph.

"Don't feed or tease
or rattle the cage
better to let him sleep
that way,
that way
everything,
everything
will remain the same. "

She is the wind
She is strong and steady
Ever changing, going wth the flow
She is fast approaching yet calm
Until the thunder strikes
And the lightning roars
The rain will pour and she will rub it in your face
She will never be yours
She cannot be captured

She is the wind
She is forever there, yet you will never see her face
She is resilient, defiant and thick with the scent of fresh cut grass and a mans tears

She is fear
She is strength
She is surrounding
She is everything you dream
She is all encompassing to the extreme

She is the wind* and she's beautiful to see
More beautiful than I can describe in poetry
Her mind is racing with no ultimate goal

She is the wind and she will steal your soul
When the dust settles and the storm moves on
She will lose control
No one can know where she'll go

She is the wind
Fear her mind and beauty
She is pure poetry
Flowing along naturally


*She is me

One day there was a bright glowing canvas, a pure sparkling white
It was beautiful, but not complete
Then someone came along and drew lines on it to form flowers and mountains and streams, it was more beautiful and it made the natural white look more distinct
Then one day someone else added color and the canvas radiated and became more and more complete, it seemed whole and functional
Suddenly, one day someone came along and slew the canvas, destroying its color till it showed black, and an ugly black
The canvas seems so drab so empty without its color, so lifeless
People refused to help the canvas, refused to anything about the canvas slayer refused to listen to the canvas’ plea
Instead the canvas slayer’s free to roam free to hurt and damage other canvas
Who will restore the canvas?
Who will bring justice?
Why is the canvas slayer free to roam while the canvas feels imprisoned, crushed, victimized?
Why is the canvas treated like a criminal?
When will the canvas feel free, joyful and peaceful?

THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO VICTIM'S OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND OTHER FORMS OF ABUSE.

Black*
and
White
Steps
Fingers glide,
My heart
Beats with each
Key that is met,
Such beauty from
Keys,
Fingers,
Echo,
Of the music
That radiates though
My fibre,
Pulling at my emotional
Felling's,
Eyes,
Weep,
At this music of *heaven
Each moment
Is a place I'm taken elsewhere
Keys are but a means
To take me to that
Place where I wish to stay
For a while
Keys are the music
That unlocks my heart..

The
True voice
Has spoken
A nation has united
Under one voice
Even through two have spoke...