A lovely fellow poet
did comment
about how an
ignorant soul had nerve
to complain that
they’d no longer read
the poet’s words anymore,
for the poet
made them
“FEEL...SOMETHING”.

Really genius?!
Imagine that!

So, a much needed
heads up...

ANYTHING you read,
be it Poetry,
Stories,
News articles,
and even
the Lyrics of a song
may cause you to
‘think’ and ‘FEEL’...
something.

Alas, such is the
price of Poetry
and the pouring out
of personal views
or fiction
onto parchment.

Poetry may not be
YOUR particular cup of tea,
and that’s ok...

I certainly couldn’t see
me sitting
  to watch a long,
drawn out sports event...
but that’s just me.

If you, poor soul,
cannot handle the
‘feelings’
inspired by Poetry,

please, just close
your laptop,
and walk away,
so, we poets,
can resume our
ink-spawned
Revery.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Welcome to his world
where he reigns supreme.

Hovering over you,
sprinkling seeds of dreams,
watching them blossom,
as he just steps back.

Daylight has nothing
on the mystical Night.

The night is wrought
with dreams,
both good and bad,
chasing images and places,
people and things
which only make sense…

under the Sandman’s veil.

Lions with purple afros,
Fairies wearing combat
boots and wings,
******, adventures
upside down,
spiritual entities
floating in the middle
of a citrine
crystal sea.

These are but a few things
we may see in dreams,
under dancing eyelids,
under cover of dark.

We step into a world
where the odd and
cryptic and usually strange
are nothing
but the norm.

A world where
flying elephants
who sit a while to chat,
are never cause to
bat an eyelash…

until you awaken.

The hustle and bustle
during hours of the sun,
come to a close
at the end of days
‘cause…

Daylight has nothing
on the mystical Night.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

The sun wakens
and shines upon
weary eyes, and
grins softly to
itself as it hears
the countless bids
for 'just a few...
more..minutes'.

The day begins
with the usual
hustle and bustle,
and the yawning
pleas to the gods
of tea and java.

But then...
the night envelops
the land, and while
most do sleep...
the others come
out to dance by
the light of the
goddess moon.

The memories of
yesterday and a
long gone today
frolic 'round the
playground of
the mind.

As daylight stirs,
the voices slumber
as life's many
distractions take
hold

but then..the night
draws out the silent
tears and the wails
of the deepest heart
that you dare not
reveal by the light
of day

and when all else is
asleep, the children
of the tender night
step out from
shadows for we
all know...
the night always
remembers.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Atop a hill
most glorious and tall,
you stand as constant
reminder of
judgement for all.

Primordial symbol
of ancient tradition
and the God-given right
to practice volition.

Infinite laws and rules
serve as soul's taxation,
but in the end, most of
those will not purchase,
for us, our ultimate
Salvation.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

A lone ship,
no particular direction,
thrusts forward and
pushes through,
fighting, often,
impenetrable waves.

Waves in constant rush,
pushing back,
slamming into its
outer walls,
repeatedly,
diligently,
never losing
momentum.

In the distance,
a lighthouse makes
its presence known.

A vessel’s unfailing
guide,
a beacon of
safety and light;
a way back home.

Providing a path
out of the dark
and noxious waters,
this pharos,
with aid of buoys
of encouragement
throughout this heavy
journey,
provide a stability
not often recognized
by other ships
in the night.

Oh lighthouse,
bring me home
where roots of
benevolence grow
and branches of
serenity
may take hold.

Embellish promises
of provisions
and comfort,
as route to never
be lost in those
unenlightened waters
again.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

You see it coming,
for you,
or perhaps you don’t.

Either way
it comes full force,
creeping,
burning everyone
and everything
in its wake
(in its way),
like Lava;
red-hot,
sulfurous,
scorching,
till it reaches your feet.

It reaches you,
sweltering,
sizzling,
hissing at your heels,
but you continue
walking down
and over
along determined
path.

Others attempt
to run,
falling at your feet,
while they smoke
and hiss,
and death wraps
its tendril-like fingers
around their
throats;
many never
get away.

Lethal, angry
winds threaten,
mocking,
calling out
your undoing,
yet
you champion
through.

You’ve always
known this path,
drudging on
sometimes with
energy and
tenacious need...
to go on
and make
good time
to wherever
you’re ultimately
going,
many times
not even knowing
yourself,

yet persistence
wins out
as you diligently
force your feet
to keep moving...
forward,
never back.

Exhausted
but resolute,
you can’t see more
than three feet
in front of you,
often times
your poor vision
playing tricks
on you...
mirages,
misinformation,
erroneous
perceptions.

You can’t see
too far ahead,
but some voice
deep inside
tells you,
coaxes you,
gently,
to keep legs moving
and eyes front
and forward,
never back,
till you
finally arrive.

Seeing for the
first time,
with new,
clear vision,
that this walk
was purposeful
and not in vain.

This arduous hike
through storms,
enduring the
violent debris,
was not without
rhyme or reason...

it was a
necessary
journey as,
on this often
harried trek,
you found
nothing more
and nothing
less than...

who you are
and what you were
always meant to be,
and now
you’ll get to shine,
wild and bright

for all to see.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Perception, my Queen
Battles fought and lost in Ire
Tempted to lash out

Emotions aroused
Moods kindled in Fire
Umbrage is provoked

Insanity rules
Trangression is drug of choice
Penance never paid

Sanity long gone
A new face in the mirror
Mayhem’s melody


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

That Pillow...if it could speak,
would have all too much to say.

It would drown your very ears
with stories of fears.

It would count, for you, the lost numbers
of tears that have been shed,
but never wiped away,
just dried up slowly, instead.

That Pillow...if it could speak,
what would it say?
How many dreams and secrets
would it betray?

Ahh, but that tender Pillow of mine,
it would never cross that line,

For it is always there...eager to bend...
for me,
and always to lend...
itself, as my friend, you see.

That Pillow...it serves me quite well,
and though there is always much to tell...
I know it will never sell...
me...out like that.

Discarding judgement, it takes it all in...
both virtue and sin.

Soft confidante as well as confessor,
putting up with the aggressor.

Never questioning a word or thought,
or the torment of inquiries sought.

Oh...that sweet Pillow; it knows me too well,
And a true friend indeed;
veiling inner stirrings and secret stories...
and it shall never tell.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

The many highways and varied roads we travel each day
are lined with much danger and pent up rage.
A sense of anger that is a constant potential time bomb
just waiting to go off.

Many paths are taken at every moment of our lives.
Some roads are quiet, surrounded by solitary vegetation,
some roads are long drawn and monotonous, coaxing you
to fall asleep at the wheel.
Still, others are surrounded by dread and danger on
either side...here, safety is a seldom seen luxury.

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THE EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

You have only to watch your daily news to witness
countless examples of a festering that every day,
in different ways, just boils over to a culminating
point where both victim and victimizer take a
proverbial bullet.

Children killing children, mama's selling themselves
to feed one or more 'juniors', daddy...where is
daddy in most cases?

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THE EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

These pathways and roads on life's highways are
littered with our minute to minute decisions and
bring equal consequence at every turn.
Many times the challenge becomes exiting any
number of one way streets where hate and
collective fury reside, and finding passage to the
expressway leading to boulevards of understanding,
compassion and an enlightened view of our
fellow commuters.

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THAT EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

Soon...very soon...this world; our world, the only
one we've got...will implode then explode then ball
itself up into a fetal position, and finally drink its
own bitter, fallout tainted tears as each last
survivor...remembers...what once was...

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THAT EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

I'm afraid...YOUR TIME IS UP!!!




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I love the feel of your hands
as they travel and caress.

I hate the feel of those hands
as they punish with duress.

I love the sound of your voice
as it whispers such an intimate
word.

I hate the sound of that voice
so full of the venom often
heard.

I love the look in your eyes,
the way they watch me and stare.

I hate the look in those eyes,
so cold, unfeeling...such a
wicked glare.

I HATE that I LOVE you!





By Mercurychyld
Copyrights

That fluffy little kitty cat,
on the window sill she sat.

She licked and cleaned and groomed her hair,
just living life without a care.

Her daily thoughts were simple and pure,
of meals and treats, and she, demure.

Never did she bother thinking
that our days upon this earth were shrinking.

Seldom did she dream of love,
or of flying creatures just above.

That kitty cat, she walks the line.
Cool kitty cat, and she’s all mine.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Organizing his school bag,
my son found a
Mother’s day card
he forgot to give me.

He apologized and
handed it to me
with a look of
pride and love
in his eyes.

I hugged him,
while struggling
so my own eyes
wouldn’t water over.

I walked back to
my room, and sat
next to my husband;
another loving soul,
and suddenly
it hit me
like a freight train...

an Epiphany.
In a matter of seconds
it all flashed
before me,
mere seconds,
that told me
SO much.

I realized that
how I was raised,
growing up in a
constant state of
fear and quiet rage,
I was led to believe
I wasn’t special
or worthwhile.

MY thoughts
and feelings
had no meaning
or place,
to anyone.

Family,
Love,
Acceptance,
Self love
and Peace...
all ripped
from me.

Believing the Lies
that I would never
be or accomplish anything;
would NEVER be good
enough;
was WRONG for just
being...Me.
I lived only a half life.

Existing,
but never LIVING.

I longed for all
the things I never had;
all those beautiful
vocabulary words
and adjectives
I never understood.
Nothing tangible,
but more
immeasurable
and abstract.

Now, as I looked around,
I saw what I had,
and it scared and
unnerved me,
yet made my eyes
glisten with tears
of realization.

Realization
that I now had
my ‘Family’
who ‘Accepted’
everything about me,
and seemed to
‘Love’ me,
unconditionally.

What do you do
with that?
How do you deal?

I don’t have
a perfect or age-old
wise answer.

All I can say is,
that door which was
slammed shut
and locked in my
early life,
was now wide open,
and Love
walked through,
finally.

Maybe this time
it’s here
to stay.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Let us play today
It’s all about You and Me
Scented candles burn

Tease me like you do
A sweet agony endured
Minds devoid of Sense

Toys all meant for play
Fantasies will come to Life
Sighs will linger here.

Fetishes will rule
Inhibitions find no place
Among these ruins.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Snap, Crackle and Pop
Muscles flap and Joints will creak
The music begins.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

A place in the country is where I'll retreat.
A place in the country is where two will meet.
A place in the country is where I'll find peace.
A place in the country is where all stress will cease
Let's rest a while, you and I.
Let's lock away grief and worry.
Let's rest a while, you and I.
Life just goes by in such a hurry.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I thrive on the subtlety
of the dance,
and the mystery of
breathless romance.

As the arms interlock
with such grace,
elegant finesse and
exertion
and the intensity of
sensual emotions
come alive,
played out in a
connection of such
passionate coercion.

Firm hands to curved
hips,
the slow meeting of
burning eyes,
the soft graze of
moist lips.

The music consumes
us as the tempo
does rise and fall...
and we glide and move
in rapturous trance
and heed the lover's
call.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

The morning comes
and the alarm sounds,
alerting me that its
time to get up
and begin our
morning routine.

First day
of the new
school year.

I watch as
my sons get
dressed,
eat breakfast,
and ready for
their first day.

Nerves are rumbling
in little stomachs,
but, there is also
a sense of excitement
at the thought of
seeing old friends.

This day reminds me
of renewal,
and the beginning,
ending, a new beginning
of stories and chapters
already lived,
and stories yet to be
played out
on life’s
proverbial stage.

They are my heros,
my little ones,
in more ways
than one.

I only pray
their first day
is better than
mine used to be,
growing up.

They are not
as awkward or shy
or broken,
full of attacks of
nerves and anxiety,

almost to the point
of crippling,
or doubling over
with stomach pains,
all from the stress...

of the first
day of school.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

In the end
the lone survivor
comes to learn,
a bit too late,
what is his, and their
and our
ultimate fate.

He learns that he,
and all fallen
comrades
were merely
chess pieces
on God’s
well worn
playing board.

Some pieces are
made of
wood,
some are made of
iron,
others still,
made of
stone,

but, they all fall
in the end.

One will drown,
one will fall off
a cliff,
and break his
neck,
and yet another
will get ripped apart
and eaten
by a pack of
rabid wolves,

but they all fall
in the end.

And only God decides,
who, what, where
and why.


- by Mercurychyld
  Copyrights

If I could wipe away the tears,
If I could crush the deceitful fears,

to be immersed in Glory;
a renewal of each sorrowful Story.

As I read the words
I feel the tendrils of their pain.

The bleeding hearts,
the bitter, ripping stain.

If I could, I would
save them from the next fall.

A network of seasoned poets
on which each of us could call.

The heart cries out...
‘Love me, don’t leave me,
hold on to me for dear life;
without you I will come undone,
I’ll fall apart!’

You can never give in
or let it distract you,
because...
I, myself, have learned
that often,
what we’ve learned
to see as an ‘end’...

is merely another
new start.


- by Mercurychyld
   Copyrights

I dream a peaceful dream,
a hopeful dream of a life
with no more desolation
of our collective
humanity.

As lessons having been
painfully learned, we
cast away all
self-righteousness and
hedonistic insanity.

For I still believe we need
and will eventually gain
a new world of true
fellowship and illumination.

For myself and so many
others this is our goal,
our selfless hope, and
our final destination.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Lips to Lips consumed
Drink of the flowing nectar
Pouring out for you

Eyes linger on curves
Landscape feeds a mutual need
Enraptured with Want

Hand in Hand we walk
Side by side in Desire
Ecstacy and Bliss


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Listen to the Wind
Carrying your Memories
Like ghosts through the Trees
~~~~~~~~~~

Love is kinder now
Though it oft’ wears two faces
For me, it now Sings
~~~~~~~~~~

Forgiveness of Self
Redemption is a true gift
Mercy and Grace reign
~~~~~~~~~

Seeing through cold eyes
Self Esteem is degraded
Turn their voices off
~~~~~~~~~

Come away with me
Where together we can be
Anything we wish
~~~~~~~~~

The Stars are alligned
Two have found their missing halves
All is now at Peace
~~~~~^~~~~~~~


~by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

In this life,
though we may
squirm and fight,
we all long for
that perfect love.

Perfect, not to
the world perhaps,
but perfect enough
for us.

Many come and go,
leaving behind
remnants of their
futile attempts at
engaging your heart.

Then one came
and found me,
drowning in the
filth and muck of
heartbreak,
and breathed new life…
into me.

At first, going on
Instinct
I reacted in the
twisted ways
I’d learned.

Dysfuntion
was all I knew.
Nothing was healthy,
nothing was ever honest
or real,

but,

in his eyes
I found devotion;
Love unconditional,
the kind only written of
in myths and legends.

I am, slowly, learning
to trust and see
Truth in his eyes.

In his arms
I found
my comfort,

and in his eyes
I finally allowed
myself to see…

forever
and what beauty
can actually be.

~by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Life throws
live bombs at you;
abuse,
cruelty,
manipulation by
‘so called’
loved ones,
betrayal of trust,
****** of innocense,

all contributing
to the grand design
and creation of a
sorrowful, raging monster;
a special breed.

You come to
discover and sharpen
the only real
weapons
you possess…

YOUR WORDS.

These words
become like machetes,
cutting and chopping
through bone.

These words
become the lethal
bullets that
penetrate
deep into the
crevices of
heart and mind.

Somewhere,
within the vast
depth of yourself
you find a strength
and courage,
in between
the layers of
rusted scars,

creating a new
persona,
one who will
stand up for you,
when your fragile
‘self’
cannot.

This creature
takes the brunt
of the hurt
and fear
directed your
way.

Those that pretend
to love you,
yet cause only harm,
witness this savior
you’ve borne,
and have the nerve
to be offended.

Often these
Pretenders
find it quite
entertaining to
watch and listen

as you tear
another apart.

That is,
until you turn,
and point your revolver…

at THEM.

Bang! Bang! goes
that gun,
and down they go,
obliterated
by your own hand,
and you can
only offer up
an amused grin…

as they
bite the bullet!


~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

You'll always remember
he'll not disappear,
keep the moments so tender
held at heart, always near.

When your eyes flow with tears
as in moments they might,
let them flow without fears
and hold those memories tight.

As in time you move on toward a new life
those fresh events will never obscure your past,
just try to relinquish the reins on old strife
for your life is still full and remembrance is vast.

You've endured and survived the pain
and one day you'll come to know it wasn't in vain.




By Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I've never understood
that word,
'happy'.

It was always
foreign to me.
Even now
it can cause the
circuits in my brain
to temporarily
malfunction.

For me it was always
a concept
that arrived
on a silver ship,
stayed to visit a while
in the lives of
the few
only to fly off again,
back to its natural habitat,
far, far away.

Then one day
it came to me,
what made ME 'happy',
and the word
was no longer quite
as elusive,
it no longer held
the position of
enigma in my mind.

I realized that
things, like music,
which sometimes
made my heart dance,
or that at times
calmed this savage
beast,
or even seduced me
with its sensual
melodies
and sultry lyrics
made me...happy.

And films, both old and new,
of many genres
that I so adore,
which constitute
a huge part of
my 'world'
and have often been
just the friend I needed
to help me escape
a dark, stressful day,
even if
just for a while.

Then there are my
favorite culinary
delights,
too many to name,
but the list does
include prized
cheesecake and
beloved dark chocolate,
full of those lovely
antioxidants
that run free
throughout  my frame.

And I cannot forget
the little things,
the instances
no one notices,
but me,
like the beauty
of my son's face as
he sleeps,
and I stare in wonder
and just listen to him
breathe,
almost bringing
me to tears.

I remember, too,
that there is LOVE.
All different kinds
and levels,
and when LOVE
is behaving
and treating me
kindly,

whispering sweet,
rapturous nothings
in my ear,
then this once alien
concept is no longer
so strange to me.

And I then understood
that happiness is not
a constant state of being
for most,
but it resides in the rare
and beautiful
snippets of life,

and it isn't often
until it has
come and gone
that we often recognize
that Happiness
was ever there.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Calling on Angels
from celestial planes and Earth;
we must begin with ourselves.

We each must decide.
We all heed this call each day;
tested by action and word.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Taken on a journey along the
expeditious jugular vein of
this existence, at a moment's
notice, with nary a warning,
I am seldom privy to the exact
location or final destination
of my numerous and dizzying
stops on the many roads of
this life.

I can only hope and pray for
the obvious illumination of
all that I am meant to see,
the clarity of mind with which
to appreciate it all, and the
wisdom to understand and
then impart the riddles,
thereby extending the best
of myself forward into this
vast universe.

This is my wish...as I sail along
this journey.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Among the silent,
thunderous
halls of the mind,
there are pathways
one should seldom
roam, for, often,
the bitterest of
fruit grows between
the walls of an
intricate cognitive
labyrinth.

Still...
I walk the very
walkways that will
either lead me to
complete
self-destruction or
to enlightenment
and divinity.

I walk quietly,
tiptoeing around
certain memories,
so as not to awaken
them from their
slumber, and
incur their wrath.

I walk on glass
footsteps, as the
shards make their
way in through
broken arches,
in search of a place
to call home,
among the ruins of
a broken spirit
and a bludgeoned,
weeping heart.

Such is love and life
and the ever present
shadow of remembrance,
and still I walk,
leaving scarlet
footprints along
the way...

to remember
where I've been.





-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

She was neglected
and invisible for so long
in this wild, overgrown
garden, where she lived
out her days.

No longer having a reason
to shine, she slipped into
apathy and simply stopped
resisting as her petals began to
fall and her leaves began
to falter.

With her young buds in tow
she concentrated all her
attention onto them, thus
attempting to dilute and
bury her own hidden
dreams.

Her name, was Lily of
the Valley, and she had
forgotten how to proudly
hold up her majestic
blades and bask in the
sun's nurturing warmth.

Till one day, when she
began to receive anonymous
inked encouragement from
an admirer from a
neighboring flower patch.

She'd never seen his face,
never shared a drop of
rain water, yet, with the
passing of each day, his
words inspired her and
she remembered what it
felt like to be acknowledged
and adored, for her mind,
as well as for her fragrance
and beauty.

His name was Narcissus,
and his endearing and
sensuous verses mesmerized
her, and once again, her
beauty began to fluoresce,
for all the garden to see.
The account of which the
grape vines would duly
spread, with uncommon
verve.

Her bulbs took on the luster
of silken pearls...and her
fragrance, took on a
scintillating aroma that
swam along the waves of
every breeze.

Her name, was Lily of the
Valley, and Narcissus was
the virile flower that stole
her heart...and restored
her reason to bloom.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

The wounds of war
are, often times, hidden
from the naked eye.

Inexperience blinds
ones’ visions,
and common ears
can’t hear the screams,
as shards of flesh
are ripped away
from their
natural setting,

and eyes that close,
yet, no longer see
what, to most,
looks like
‘reality’.

For, now, through
skewed perceptions,
can only envision
moments of hell;
moments that can’t
be UN-seen
or EVER
forgotten.

A soldier who leaves,
innocent, full of ideals,
and returns home,
borne again.

A new, dark creature
has emerged;
one who no longer
speaks or comprehends
the language
or world
of the civilian.

Only understood by
the brotherhood of
those who have also
looked into
the dismal ravages...

of WAR.

Sons and Daughters
of the homeland,
risking life, limb
and sanity,
in defense of
this democracy,
pledging allegiance
to their sacred flag
and way of life.

They have stories
to tell
of epic
human depravity;
they walk in
conscious nightmares
that most, back home,
would rather never know,
and pretend do not
truly exist.

WAR bears only
wounded fruit,
and the only ‘winners’
if one can call them such,
are merely those
left breathing;

those that managed
to **** more of THEM
than they killed
of US.

Those that live
through it and
manage to return,
arrive,
filled with true
knowledge
of, both, the best
and the horrifying
the human soul
can produce.

The stories of WAR
become a second skin
one cannot drink
or wash away.

All the while,
at home,
others walk right by,
showering thanks
‘for their service’,
wishing blessings
and throwing
festive (unwanted)
parades,

while ignoring
the crippled spirits
of the broken soldiers
saluting...

dressed, in their
very best.



~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Along with centuries,
decades, years,
days and moments
I stand,
tall, majestic, in spite
of weathered skin.

I have endured
the monotany of
immobile time, deep gashes,
buzz saws ripping
into my flesh,
lovers’initials
carved into my
layers.

Creatures and beasts
of all walks of life,
have made a home
of me,
pushing, pulling
and bending branches,
causing pains,
oblivious to the
harm inflicted.

Either way
I stand,
tall and majestic,
in spite of insult
and injury.

I am that old
oak tree,
and my roots have
found their place,
gripping the fragile earth;
the raw embodiment
of determination,
no matter the weather,
no matter the punishments
nature can impose.

I stand,
tall and majestic,
like only an
old oak tree
can.


~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

What a thing is this...
this spellbinding language in a KISS?

A kiss will tell of tender love,
like holy manna from up above.

A kiss will say hello;
by dewy greeting, much fondness
will show.

A kiss will say 'I must now leave,
but I shall return', in the meantime
leave you in a dreamer's wake,
to slowly burn.

A kiss has many mysteries to relay,
filled with lavish fury
to eagerly display.

A kiss has skill to vindicate,
and yet, with one touch,
to enemy, annihilate

In a kiss you may find betrayal
when the character of one
is thus frail.

In a kiss you will find
the beginning of new life, as hope renewed,
and a soul connects to another;
vile, painful pasts subdued.

In a kiss you will find tempestuous
passions less contained,
as undulating needs claim you
as their intended and perfect domain.

Such, and yet so much more, is this...
the ever mystical language..
the enigma...of a KISS...




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

There are days
when the rain seems
like nothing more
than inconvenience,
and puddles, messes,
and noise.

More often than not, though,
the rain has been a friend,
a companion of sorts.

It has lessened the
loneliness in moments
of grief and despair,
as it shared in
inconsolable
and silent tears.

It has covered me
like a warm blanket,
as it washed away
the fears.

More often than not,
the rain has been
a path to renewal,
a baptism most sacred.

Even the melody
and timber of the rain
has often soothed me,
like white noise
can comfort a
restless child.

The rain can consume
and wash out
and drown,
pushing unwanted
memories and dreams
down an any-named road,
for miles and miles.

For me, more often
than not,
it provides shroud
and cover from the sun’s
intense heat,
inspiring gratitude
and most joyful
smiles.



~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

~Strength was never a word they
used to describe me

~Too many terrifying nights
borne of a terrifying life

~Ready to run, but having
nowhere to go

~One with all that was pain and
misery and loneliness

~Never straying far enough from
rage, despair, fear

~Given so many chances to fail yet
finding hidden resilience
and a different way
to shine...a candle
in the wind


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

As I sit and watch the leaves
falling off the branches of trees
I can't help but wonder how it would be
to have our most painful memories just fall away.. like withering leaves.
But then I remember that it is there, in the midst of
painful moments,
when we crash against those immovable rocks that the most resilient of character in us is
coaxed out of the darkness
and brought forth...
into the light.



By Mercurychyld
Copyrights

In conversation with my cousin,
she says, 'Oh my God, my
brother-in-law still remembers
you

as my cousin with the 'nice ***';
the 'hottie' from my wedding.

Still talking about me after
all these years, I see.
I couldn't help but think,
'wow, quite the first impression
I must make, or is it the
impression I leave BEHIND?'

and I felt the wheels spinning
in my mind, as they always do,
trying to decipher what the
appropriate response to
such an admission should be...
in this...particular...instance.

And I heard this voice in my
mind, shout, in its softest tone,
'I...AM MORE...THAN JUST...
A...NICE...***, if you take
the time to know me.'

So I realize that I find
the observation anything but
flattering.

Amusing, predictable,
redundant...yes.

But am I flattered, am I
even intrigued, or...
impressed, in the slightest?
Not at all.

For me, it is just...
inevitable entertainment,
among other things I
won't freely admit at this
time.

But if, and when, I happen
to lose any components
of my identity,
I can always remember,
that if nothing else,
I am...

(not my name, or even
my fetching idiosyncracies,
but...)

the 'Hottie with the
nice ***', and
I wouldn't be able to help,
but smirk.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Ask me not the question unless you truly burn for an answer
but be forewarned,
for there will always be a door through which you may not enter,
a depth of heart
you cannot reach,
a path into the soul
you will never truly know.
Do not bedevil yourself in trying to find
these cryptic places,
for they are not yours to find.
But only be satisfied
to know the profound places to which you are invited and allowed to see...
do not search for more.
Only take what is granted you and know that in that moment, at that
time, it is the best of me
and all is as it should be.
And ask me not the question...
unless you can bear the burden.. of my truth.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

"Oh, come away with me
to a land where you'll be free;
a place where all can achieve
if you only just believe.

Follow me, my friend,
take this journey to the end.
Take my hand and you will see
just how much you mean to me.

As its beauty you inhale, you'll
not desire to go back,
to that place of woe from whence
you came,
a place riddled by such lack.

So take my hand and soon you'll be
in a picturesque land of great jubilee,
where there's never need to beg
or borrow,
and no one ever worries
for tomorrow."

Said the spider to the fly
just before its time to die....

~ Lol!~



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I suspect...
the lights burned out
long ago,
the heart stopped
beating,
the lips stopped
parting to speak,
the hands stood
still,
as the mind
wandered.
I suspected...
though you lacked
courage to tell.
The irony is, your
grandest display
of disgrace
delivered me my
greatest liberation,
for the gloves
have come off,
the masks have
fallen,
the lies have
ceased, and I
can finally clearly
see what truly
lives...
behind your eyes.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

You come to me with a need...
for sharing,
for release,
for confession...of the concerns
of heart and mind.

Honorably, I take you into me
and shelter you from the harsh
stabbings of your pain,
whether self inflicted,
or life afflicted.

In the midst of your trials,
I surround you in affection,
and profess that you are
not alone, for you will always
be covered by my own
ache and wisdom,
and shielded as you heal.

I am the sentinel, watching
over your broken heart and
spirit as you travel inward
for much needed respite.

I am, the glimmer of light
that reaches into the darkness
and catches you as you fall
through the trapdoor to
sorrow's intangible hold.

I will sing you a beckoning
cadence, soft and compassionate,
to lull you back from the
river's edge..and back onto
shores of peace.

Listen for my voice...it will
always guide you home.
For I know all your secrets,
I've seen all your disguises,
but I am your friend...and
I love you still...and always
will.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

YOU who insists on negating
my very stories; my personal
memories...
Who are YOU to make ME out
to be demented,
with the wave of your hand, and
the roll of your eyes and
impatient sighs...
just DISMISSING me,
'cause to you...my thoughts,
my feelings NEVER mattered.

I'm just your daughter...
the Mad Hatter!

You never quite believed
that 'he'...your great love..
could violate me...
so hard for you to believe
how lecherous his hands
could really be.

I've heard through grape vines
to this day, you still need
to deny it,
and when confronted with
this truth, your eyes patronize
as, once again, I imply it.

Harsh lessons were learned
very quick and quite well,
as each time I'd follow your
path into hell.
I learned at too young of an age
how this was your drama,
and I...was your stage...
And no one would save me
but ME.
This was just how it would be.

But you taught me well,
how my thoughts or feelings
never did matter,
'cause I was just your daughter...

the Mad Hatter!




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Many decades ago you chose
to walk away.
And even as I wished and
prayed for otherwise,
I knew...you would not stay.

Too many times as I endured
my hardships and cried
lonely tears,
I swore in my heart, if Papa
were here, for sure, he'd
chase away my fears.

But you were never there to
swathe or console me,
as the painful, sordid events
in this life stood to chain
and control me.

Mama's 'men' came and went,
but not before each cut deep
scars into the bark of my soul.
Deadly, wild parties were had,
no fairy tales here to extol.

What I truly wanted...needed
from You, Papa, would have
cost not one dime;
all I ever really wanted...needed
from You, Papa, was nothing
less, nothing more than...
your TIME.

There is just SO much more
this torn heart wants to say,
but alas, my spirit, so tired,
so frayed, chooses instead
to tuck away the words...
for another day.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

How DARE you
call me
ANYTHING at all!

What gives you
the right?
Who fed you
sweet lies
and convinced you
“your **** don’t stink”
and you drip
of righteousness?!

SICK...
that’s what
you said, right?

So now I’M sick
merely because
I write and
I’m honest on
these pages,
as I metaphorically
bleed all over
them,
with uncharacteristic
disregard for the mess
I may have made?

Don’t EVER
mistake
poetic sweetness
for mortal weakness.

Maybe YOU’RE
the weak one;
the SICK one.

By the way,
who told you
you could ‘write’...
poetry?

No, I’d really
like to know,
‘cause the gloves
are off.

You started this,
but I will
END it.

I’ll stop here
or I’ll go on
for days,
and do it with a
Cheshire grin
as I tear you
apart.

You wanna see
SICK darlin’?

Come closer...
if you
F**KIN’ DARE!


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

This love
overwhelms
short circuits my system.

Unsure how to deal,
all such new ground.

What are the rules?
How does this end?
What goes in between?

Do not trust…
so says my head.

Please…try…maybe,
says my heart.

I am a rose.
Soft petals,
subtle scent,
but get too close,
hold too tight,
and you might bleed.

Perhaps more a
Venus fly trap.
Interesting, odd,
hybrid colors,
but
keep your distance,
at arms length,
pray for safety.

All It ever knew,
all it ever learned was…
observe,
don’t let’em too close,
always retreat,
and, if they reach out
to touch…
chomp down,
liquefy,
destroy!

Your love overwhelms,
short circuits
my system.

Creates new paths,
opens doors unseen,
wraps the heart
in silk and velvet,
tenderly held
in a special place,
away from
unwanted storms,
aimed at maiming
and destruction.

Nerves grow,
reaching out
to new ground,
sprouting words and
images never
known before.

Not sure what
to make of it.

I hear again
the whispered exchange
between mind
and heart.

Mind asks,
“Can you…
should you…
trust?
What have you
learned in eons
passed?”



Heart replies,
“We can smile,
wide, bright.
A smile that reaches
the eyes,
and we can try,
can’t we…maybe…
please?”

This time
we will try.

This time,
the heart wins.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

She awoke violently to the sound of blaring alarms coming from the outskirts of the city, or what was left of it after the chaotic state which had turned the entire planet into one giant slave to disillusionment and Marshall Law. Freedom and individuality were a thing of the past. Every citizen became nothing more than a number, and a dark and pure evil ruled over every meaningful facet of human existence.

Only by the grace of God was she even still alive and somehow managing to scrounge
and feed her two young ones...the only semblance of 'love' in her life of sorrow. They
were the only reasons she still found cause to smile, on occasion, amidst all the
frightening madness.

Running, hiding and finding shelter with two little ones in tow was an almost impossible
feat, especially in such a hostile environment. Nowhere to run, no one to turn to, she
did the best she could to keep herself and her boys from harm and complete sadistic violation at the hands of captors who would eagerly spill her blood, but not before forcing her to witness the abominable ****, torment and dismemberment of her two
precious ones...the mere thought and fear of such a thing drove her to the brink of a desperate madness only a loving parent could possibly understand. All she had left, her motivation to stay alive, her treasure, lived and breathed with those babies.

Something in her heart told her this night would be their last run together. She'd heard
from the voices throughout the streets, of the horrors others experienced at the blood thirty hands of these elite monsters running our world. She felt them close now, and there was nowhere left to hide.

She turned and saw a deep body of water only yards away and suddenly she knew what had to be done...a deep feeling of sickness and dread began to grow in her belly, and
the tears began to flow but she wiped her face and put on her most cheerful smile and took on a soft tone and gently took her two loves by the hands and whispered, "Come on boys, we're going for one last swim, take Mami's hands now, here we go." They whispered excitedly to each other and together they all walked into the water. For a moment she stopped and looked down at each of boys, and in her most loving tone reminded them how very much she adored them and that they were gifts from above
and she would never leave them; never. They smiled and said, "we love you too Mami..always and forever and ever", and they giggled.

With that, a solitary tear ran down her cheek, and as she walked and the water began to cover the boys, she squeezed their hands tightly as they began to struggle against the submersion and the choke of death; as she held them there and felt the life ebb away, her heart shattered completely and irreparably, and she felt her soul grow frigid cold and plunge straight into the depths of an unknowable despair.

When she felt the stillness of their little lifeless bodies, she began the trek back to land and tenderly placed each half of her heart right next to each other and kissed them, telling them how sorry she was, but that at least she had the peace of knowing that now her two precious boys were in the loving arms of God, along with their beautiful older brother, who had died years ago, shortly after his premature birth. She prayed to God for His tender mercy and understanding...this was the most horrid sacrifice she'd ever had to make...it was a mercy killing...an ultimate act of kindness and love.

As the bitter, arctic fingers of agony gripped her fractured heart, she held one little hand of each child and sat slumped and wracked with sobs and waited for her fate...and the evil to arrive.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

As I walked one day, deep in thought and tasks to be completed, I caught a glimpse
of a wonder that affected my thinking.

There she was, a fragile miracle in between rocks and two slabs of concrete.
Even in the midst of such cold surroundings, she held her head up proudly to the sun
and opened her arms, as if in quiet challenge to the world around her...as if to say
she's here, she's survived the violence of stomping feet, she's survived the harsh
elements and yet sprung forth and managed to shine in a place most others would've
simply withered away....and died.

Her beauty shone through, even in the depth of rocks and two slabs of concrete.
She knew her time was limited, but she also knew that while she had life,
the BEAUTY she was meant to be would emanate...for all to see.

And for me, that turbulent day, she was a smile from God; she was my miracle,
my hope, a small wonder that affected my thinking.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Living in a world WITHIN the dilapidated walls of this world,
they roam through the darkness on the very streets only
angels and demons dare to tread.

Yet to these bottom dwellers, those very streets, they call HOME.
Under the shadow of night they live...they breed...they draw
blood, when they must, as a means of survival.

They scatter to the four winds at the break of day, though a few
stragglers you'll often see...getting in the way of the busy,
bustling life, there on those streets.

Streets filled with incessant traffic, deafening noise, blaring voices
and most of all...the self-centered masses that too often miss
the trees for the forest.

Once upon a time they had names, and faces, an identity; an
essential, accountable part of this upper world, abuzz with
energy and notoriously fast pace.

Now, they are merely the bottom dwellers, discarded, forgotten,
living in holes, caves, under the very bridges through which
the 'great mass' travels; living in cardboard boxes, nursing
decayed hearts, broken spirits, greeted with scorn, spit, sarcasm
and contempt...as they attempt to, often, travel back up top and
reconnect.

They paint our fast food doorways and ATM's with quiet, desperate
humility, loss and justified anger, while every worldly possession
(the ones they haven't had stolen, or been stabbed for) they
carry like broken treasure in a shopping cart.

This 'great mass' looks upon them as outcasts, too lazy, just crazy,
society's shame...but oh how lame, since 'they' could always be...
you...and me.


by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Envisioning, so desperately, the one desire of my deepest heart--to once again be filled
with 'life'; to hear the beauty in a voice that calls me 'Mom'.


I lay with him, even though I felt the repugnance rising to a scream--but I saw only my
desire; I thought only of my possible reward at the close of this act.


I fantasized of another face, to get me by. I imagined other hands exploring me. My
companion too was excited, I could tell, and ready for the mission, when suddenly it
all came to a screeching halt; the fantasy ruined... when.......................he SPOKE!




by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Two lemon martinis
was all I had.
Had no idea, after,
I’d feel quite this bad.

Been so long since
I’d gone out to play,
now with headache
and slight hangover,
it was my time to pay.

The spirit and porcelain
gods have a twisted
sense of humor, that’s
for sure...
providing warm euphoria
in ’feel good’ juices,
till your barfed up
stomach lining and a
sledge hammer to the
brain they soon
procure.

NEVER AGAIN will I ingest
such liquid rage this way,
I PROMISE...I think.

But for now....ahhh, who
am I kidding...I think
I’ll go merrymaking
and have just ONE
more drink (LOL!).



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights