Paint me a Hero;
one who can fight
my demons for a spell,
as I sit to rest.

Just hold me tightly,
and tell me I'm not alone,
if but for a while

-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Your strength
and delicate resilience
showers us with hope,
love and deep thought.

As you fly high above,
the sound of your
mighty wings serves
as a reminder and
a healing…for your soul…
for ours…for those
beautiful, fragile ones
that shall endure
long after.

Your shining legacy
will live on, past any
of us, and
your strength shall
fly on eternity’s wings
into tomorrow, and
in the meantime,
our hearts fly
with you.

God bless you Carmen,
and all the ‘Carmens’
in the world!


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights


*Written a few years ago, to be included with other
Poets words, dedicated to a victim of violence, **** and domestic abuse who was terribly burned and suffered immensely. This poem, and others, was collected in a poetry book for the victim: Carmen

These city streets are lined with decay,
just look out the window,
you'll see spoils and rot on display.

Makes me often wonder just
how we came to be where we are.
While the righteous weren't looking
the hounds of hell dragged our
earth too far.

Our one true home is full of death
and discord,
while the little guy suffers,
the masters grow fat, rich and bored.

The 'fat cats' get portly as the
gluttons **** the land,
leading poor and weak to
slaughter,
with a damning, insatiable stand.

Where do we go to seek shelter
from this man made storm?

What do we hold onto in a world
so dis-eased and forlorn?

If survival is yet an attainable dream,
the seeds of destruction and doom
must be pried from the hearts
of men.

As I look out the window and see
this world in disturbing disarray,
the one thing I do know is that,
hope lies within each of us...
at the dawn
of each day.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

He was a preacher long ago,
punished by those in the
small, diseased town,
for his selfishness
and lack of Faith.

His very soul was ripped
from his struggling form,
cursed to walk through
this life
without a soul,

thus, his new purpose
then became to
steal and collect
the souls of others,
and quite the collection
he had.

The soul last collected,
as was once told to me,
was the soul of a
young girl,
to young to die,
to young to fly.

Her soul was snatched
from her,
through no will
of her own,
just like the others.

The grieving mother
gathered her up and
held her body tightly,
as only a true mother can.

Suddenly
the little body stirred.
First a little finger,
then a hand,
then her eyes opened,

but
the soul looking up
at the mother through
those knowing eyes
was not that of her daughter,
as she proved when she began
to hum a tune,
a tune previously hummed
by another.

Souls cling to life
in a way the common
man cannot understand.

The child’s mother,
upon reaching the
realization that this soul
was not in fact
her daughter’s,
simply held her little
body closer,
as only a loving mother
can.

She didn’t care
who now lived
inside her girl

for all that mattered
was,
she had her ‘daughter’ back.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I see what you're doing; I know what you are.
Seen you travel some distance through
this lyrical bar.

I know your particular flavor,
as you 'give' yet leave nothing
to savor.

Did you say it all...did you feed your
callous need?
As your 'so called' critiques and comments
just left another to bleed?

How 'brave' you are behind your avatar,
but you see,
You've done little, if anything, to honestly
impress me.

You use your lack of diplomatic restraint
to simply crush spirits and leave behind
a dark, bitter taint.

Did you say all you needed, does is make
you feel better?
To ruffle thin feathers; crippling feelings
altogether?

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

The bile and power of your word,
leaves poor souls understanding
that their thoughts and opinions, to you,
are absurd.

Time after time I read your insolent speeches
on many a blog,
as you spew forth your 'wisdom', dispensing
a high voltage flog.

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

Unlike YOU, 'friend', I prefer to pay visits
and leave a word of kindness;
never leaving them with lyrical blindness.

Sometimes I may read, and have nothing
to say...if their words overwhelm, hit a nerve,
or inspire my mind to stray...to a place of
recognition...far, far away.

I just felt this deep need to express,
how you're grating on my nerves;
with your sour, evil comments
just disguised as 'clever words'.

Go on now, my 'friend', try to pen
words that INSPIRE...
I promise I'll be kind, even as
I unleash my fire...
unto the likes of you...
such a mean spirited shrew!

So next time, give great thought
to your comment before you click away,
'cause I know many a great poet here,
that by YOUR cold, pathetic words...
will NOT be chased away!




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

“Why drive through this reality sober
as conformity and vapid rules testify,
freedom of speech and opinion, over
but, on chemistry we can rely.”

Moved around from place to place,
people come and go,
friendships seldom found or made,
none can really know.

Sweet Mother died; gone much too soon
and dearest Father cracked.
Nothing else to do but howl at the moon
and brain cells laced with happy pills,
intended to distract.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

If I had but just one wish,
I’d break it into levels
which would more
than likely be this…

I’d wish to REMEMBERS...
remember the hard
lessons learned
this time around.

Most, painfully learned;
a few amusingly found.

I’d want to fulfill
all the promises
I made to myself.

Promises sacred
to the heart
and kept safe
and hidden
on a figurative shelf.

Remember
how I wanted to
draw and write,
sing and dance
and run and fly

as free and far as ever,
just gliding through
the sky.

I’d not forget
that the current facts
of my life were, in fact,
NEVER part of my plan.

For me, I did not envision
nuptials or children
or being indebted
to any man

but,

next time I’ll finally
get things right.

My life will be
a miracle of friendships and
beauty and art and music
in all forms.

All these and more
will then fill my
curious appetite.

Sorrows, fears, and worries
will NOT take over
my new world.

Only my innate sense
creativity, imagination
and wonder
shall then be
unfurled.

I will never HAVE to
share, give up, or
compromise a thing,
unless it is by choice.

My restless soul smiles
Inside when I stop to
envision these things,
and to them give
full voice.

If I ever get but just one wish
it would most likely be this…

next time around
I’ll not allow the trials
of life or selfishness of others
ever impede my search
for my genuine self
or my personal bliss.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

She goes by many names,
like the devil…
‘she, her, woman,
MOTHER.

No one else in this unruly world
can wound and shred me
to the very bone…
not like her,
never like her.

She never understood me,
never really cared to, not at all,
though she’ll swear otherwise,
but,
both I and those that know me
know that she doesn’t ‘get me’
AT ALL.

Don’t tell HER that though,
or even THINK about
contradicting or challenging
her word.

Her word is scripture!

I’ve also gone by various names,
names that spilled so easily
from her wicked tongue…
‘loser, quitter,
pathetic, too fragile,
bad attitude,
mentally ill…for no
good reason
(I was just BORN crazy,
not her fault…never).

More often than not
her conversations
(or rather, monologues)
with me (AT me)
consist of pointing out
my every wrong
(in her superior opinion).

My greatest crime?
NOT BEING LIKE HER,
‘matter of fact she has always
been a great lesson to me
of what NOT to be.

I am a much better mother.
I sometimes forget
(when her voice booms in my head)
yet I DO know that,
without an ounce of doubt.

I can tell, when my boys look at me
and smile with utter adoration
in their beautiful eyes.

I can tell, when they want to
constantly hug me and remind me
how much they love me.
My best friend, all those who
truly have come to know me in
life, seem to think I’m pretty cool.

I know that too, though I
often forget
(when her voice booms in my head).

She taught me…
to fear (everything and everyone),
to rage (only on the inside…God
forbid I expressed anger or hurt).

Some have called me
BRAVE.
I never saw or understood that.
At times I still don’t.

When my firstborn died,
in my arms, before his time,
people called me ‘brave’ because
‘I took it so well’.
I didn’t. A piece of me died
with him that day.

Though I’m often terrified, to
even put one foot in front of
the other I do it every day,
for my sons.

I have always been afraid…
of most everything, most
everyone,
yet I rise each day, pushing past
the depression and fear,
swallowing the bitter tears
and I get up and do what must be done.

Isn’t that what courage is?
Doing something, even while
you tremble in your boots?

I do that very thing.

Guess that does qualify me
as being BRAVE.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 30 Jan 15

The rings of smoke
run circles
around you;

the air, pungent
with the bitter
stench of second
hand smoke…
cough, cough.

“I can stop,
whenever I choose!”
you say.
Right!

Tryin’ to convince,
who,
me or you?,
but,
we both know better,
don’t we?

You say, “oh, I’ll quit,
someday, you’ll see”,
but truth be told,
it’s just not meant
to be ‘cause…
there will ALWAYS be
heartbreaks,
illness,
lost jobs,
money troubles,
betrayal,
lack,
of food,
of fun,
just lack of…
something.

So, stop foolin yourself
(‘cause you’re not
foolin’ me…heard it
ALL before).

You’ll never really quit
‘cause there will
always be
SOME ****…
stressin’ you out,
leaving you needing…
to calm those
EDGY nerves,
Right?



-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 19 Jan. 15

You left me yesterday,
as many times before.
Left me as you found me;
often knocking
at your door.

When you left
I did not cry.
Found fierce pain and sorrow,
yet I did not die.

I, a lonely, broken child
filled with
fractured thoughts
and rage,
still you opened up
my book of life,
and began a
brand new page.

Desperate for a friend
who would somehow
understand,
I found in you a comrade
who took me
by the hand.

I realize now
I pushed to hard;
overwhelmed you
with my need, but,
in you I saw an image
of me,
and in my soul
grew a shameless
greed.

The years went by,
you came and went
and often disappeared,
though I knew you
weren’t quite ‘gone’,
‘cause I always
felt you near.

Then one day
you broke my heart,
as you truly left,
with no trace
or goodbye.

The space you built
within my life
would not again be
filled.

At times I remember
how you colored my life,
and I retreat to my
hidden place,
and take the time
to cry.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 11 Jan 2015