Lerin: Favorites

Jun 2014 Lerin

SE Reimer

(a lamentation for Maria)

~

call me Mara,
no more Maria;
nothing but a hole
where ‘i’ once was,
for life has dealt my heart
a raw and bitter hand.
do not come too close;
weep with me,
but from a distance...
my losses could rub off
for this may be endemic;
a cause any other,
too hard to understand.
i do not know how i will cope,
how i can bear this burden.
just love me not,
too closely, please,
for the thought
of one more loss
is more than i
could bear to see.

my sons were two
and for any more
i would have never asked;
yet they have left
and now my joy,
my future dreams,
my happy hopes,
wind in my sails
has all but now
been dashed.
love...
i thought i knew it,
but now it seems
that all i love
is stripped away from me.
weep with me,
but not too distant...
my losses won’t rub off
this contagious only seems.
just love me not,
too closely, please,
for the thought
of one more loss
is more than i
could bear to see.

call me Mara,
call me bitter,
share my sorrow,
hear my never-ending sobs.
if any hope remains
i pray you hold it close,
hang tightly to your dreams;
my hope is gone,
replaced by sour herbs,
libations poured
have all been changed,
a tinge of myrrh it now contains;
reduced to tears
my song is lost,
except this sad refrain.
weep with me,
hold me tightly...
my heartache won’t rub off
i cannot bear to cry alone.
just love me not,
too closely, please,
for the thought
of one more loss
is more than i
could bear to see.

post script.

some events shake us to the core, even though they may not be our own.

Ruth 1:20 “Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mara_(name)

i am grateful to know the rest of Naomi’s story; to know her bitter drink was ultimately mingled with some sweetness; to know that beyond her own lifetime she became a part of the silver thread that led to a nation’s redemption... but i cannot accept, that even for a moment of her remaining life, the hole left by her many losses was ever filled completely. some wounds even time can never really heal; these we only learn to cope with, soothing the pain, finding ways to medicate the suffering they cause.

myrrh. http://www.itmonline.org/arts/myrrh.htm

Jun 2014 Lerin

Mask

Jun 2014 Lerin

Marcus White

Mask

They are worn
as a disguise or
to hide

To hide from the past
the shame that remains
the monster inside
the lies

To disguise
the pain that never
well change

#hide #mask #disguise

Jun 2014 Lerin

The Forgotten Side Of Town

Jun 2014 Lerin

LD Goodwin

The Forgotten Side Of Town

Running naked through the ruins of Detroit,
deep embrace against a graffitied wall.
The clink of spent bottles chime with passion's song,
and echoed down a forgotten hall.

Bombed out, Nagasakieque, sur-reality,
a strange and desolate aphrodisiac.
Ghosts watch our post-apocalyptic tryst,
through every wrecking ball crack.

With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown,
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.

Paradise, hidden among the rubble.
But only for the discerning eye.
Her pen painted poetic justice here,
and tried to reveal the reasons why.

Street coney's and cold bottles of Stroh's
could not be scuttled in the wake.
Its someone's hometown, no matter what,
though it looks like hell for heaven's sake.

With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.

Like some lost and lonely stray, she takes it in,
dusts it off, and holds it to her heart.
Sees promise in every burnt out factory,
and hope in every unattended park.

Empty crack houses sleep down the darkened alleyways,
like effigies awaiting to be burned.
The clock tower is stuck on borrowed time,
with hands waiting to be turned.

With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.

And on our cardboard mattress
and the last few sips of wine,
the stars never looked so good to me,
her body never so fine.

Perfection amid controlled chaos,
eloquent profanities.
She dances naked in the moonlight,
and quelled our insanities.

With patchouli scented hair of reddish brown
she's taken me to the forgotten side of town.

*Inspired by "Ghost Gardens" a poem by Rebecca Askew

Harrogate, TN December 2014

Jun 2014 Lerin

Tremors

Jun 2014 Lerin

Disaster Child

Tremors

To you ever tremble without reason?
Shake and shudder just because of how you are?
Tremors running through your body
As you try to sit still.

Jun 2014 Lerin

The Flow

Jun 2014 Lerin

Richard B Sebastian

The Flow

‘Just go with the flow’ they say,
‘You can’t avoid the current anyway’ they say;
‘That’s the way it works,’ they say,
Who are ‘THEY’?

Round and round it spins,
‘That’s the way it works’ they claim;
Like sweet bread, buttered both sides their words are,
From the start, alluring and tempting.

Sweet is the fruit at the start,
Drenched in coated sugar,
And after ******* on for some part,
Reality sinks in, your eyes taking in the colour.

‘That’s not the way,’ you say,
‘It’s totally wrong,’ you say;
But now it’s their turn:
Who are ‘YOU’?

So what do you do?
Talk, protest, rebel?
They’ll cut you off if you do,
Who are ‘YOU’ to them?

And so you wait,
Wait for the time when they leave,
Wait for what’s coming for you,
And you then do the SAME.

At the end, did the questions arise:
Who are ‘THEY’, who are ‘YOU’?
Did the answer for this arise:
“WHO AM I?”

Like a perfect running clock it looks,
Ticking the minutes and hours away;
Not a soul checks the rusted gears and crannies and nooks,
Not until it’s too late anyway…

thoughts self-discovery useless change

Jun 2014 Lerin

Relapse.

Jun 2014 Lerin

Riley Ayres

Relapse.

as insanity depicts my pride,
I look at you in a way that I can't look at anyone else,
as you are constantly on my mind,
and the droplets fall in a way like never before.

you're heart encases me,
consuming everything I have within its arteries,
each thought becomes more liquefied,
as I try to stop the pain.

"she wouldn't want you doing this"

I tell myself time and time again,
yet still as the capsule slips past my lips,
I find some kind of release in the burning sensation,
that starts to simmer in my throat.

your eyes, I try to picture your eyes...
yet still you are not here for me to see them in flesh,
one look from you and I would stop,
but one look is something you will not give.

relapse...

a pain that cannot be fathomed by a blade,
as you drag it from your elbow to your wrist.
I was a month clean but I can't help it now,
my body is dead.

Pain is a placid thing,
yet somehow it holds a power over me,
but, when I am with you it seems...
... that the hold it has is simply gone.

I can't seem to rendeer the thoughts of my childhood,
as I continue to do the inevitable,
have I slipped back into my old ways...
... Have I gone too far to go back now.

Relapse...

Relapse...

Relapse...

I am sorry I have let you down,
I am sorry that my callous ways are somewhat spiteful,
I may not have much self esteem,
but I know that I am selfish...

was I selfish in my dealings with you?
in the way I handled your gorgeous smile.
not that I recall..
yet I feel as though I have somehow

left, not to be welcomed back,
into you're arms of grace that make me collapse...

drag me out of this pit
save me from this relapse.