Only you can translate
where you are
on your voyage through
this varied farce
called “life”.

No one else can dictate
to you…
or should even dare…
how to phrase
your feelings,
your thoughts,
your personal moments.

Who is anyone to
cause another to feel
inept or inferior
for wording their
experiences as they will?

We are all both
audience and poet,
consumed by the
powerful spell of words
and meaning
we are bonded
in ink.

It takes gumption
and courage
to give voice to
your vision of
the world.

It often requires
resilience and nerve
to open your heart
and peel back the
layers of skin,
and let others take
a long look at the
inner workings of YOU.

Be brave,
take courage,
let your soul speak
in its very own
language.

People will read
your words and
listen to the sweet
whispers
and thunderous shouts
that flow from pens
and keys
to release the
inner demons and angels
and the lyrical
vines that bloom and live
in our individual
landscapes,

fluidly coursing from
our own rabbit holes
with fortitude and grace
and our neverlands,
where we need never
grow up,

to share with those
that need to see
and hear and feel
and wonder.


-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

Just as summer releases its warm embrace
Ushering in beautiful colors and flavors,
Love blossoms in my heart once again, reborn.
Your memory, my son, consumes and embraces
me in its own warmth.

-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights 26 May 15
Tuesday


~ In memory of my Giovani, my beautiful
boy with wings ~ ❤️ ~

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

I feel lonely
when you sleep.

I find myself walking
and pacing,
plagued by thoughts
and worries and
feelings of doom.

Wired yet empty,
as if some part of me
is missing or
ripped away.

Where did it go?
When will it be back?

Displaced, I am
obliged to search within
the trunk of memories
in my mind
and pick out a few
memories of you,
of us,
dust them off
and play them like
snippets of favorite
movies

and for a little while
I can ignore the flood
of tearful melancholia
that creeps and stalks,
just waiting to drown me.

For a little while
I can think of you,
our silly laughs and giggles
and mutual goofiness…

and for that little while
I can smile.


(Ode to my beautiful sons)

-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 23 Nov 15
Monday

Vibrant colors,
droves of faces,
quite the happy daze

Tepid gods,
vast oasis,
such euphoric haze

Visions sublime,
befuddled senses
precede the happy dance

Creativity sparked,
mother nature's dreaming,
find your totem in the trance




by Mercurychyld
©

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

At times, the silence
feels as oppressive
as tar,
and just as dark.

When the family
members are gone,
be it to school or work
or wherever,

I take the opportunity
to let her out;
the little girl with
all the scars,
who lives inside…

of the walls,
in between the halls
of my very being.

She cautiously walks along,
quietly,
and finds her spot
among the shadows.

There, she can
taste her fears,
and cry her tears…

with no one the wiser,
no witness to be found,
except the very
walls and halls,

but they can hold
a secret,
or a confession,
with the utmost
discretion.

Standing at a distance,
I allow her her space…

space for expression,
respite from depression,
safety from oppression,
room for regression.

The clock keeps ticking;
it never slows or stops.

She knows the hour
will come for her to,
once again,
return to the place
in which only she
resides,
inside.

Holding on
(for dear life),
till the next chance
she’ll come out,
once again,

for an ever needed
escape
from the tempermental
holds of our
Reality.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 29 Jan 15

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

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

Between earth and sky
is where I abide.

Grass grows beneath my
feet and inbetween
moments of deep thought,
longings and unuttered
desires,

as I sit, communing
with the trees

and for a while, just
doing as they do...

just simply 'being',
no matter what

as they hold majestic
limbs up
toward the heavens

in adoration or
perhaps
interrogation.

And that is but
speculation or
imagination
on my part.

I sit, quietly,
somewhere between
this moment
and tomorrow

and wonder those
simple, complex
questions of old...

What does it all mean,
in the end?
What price do we pay
for passion or apathy?
Why are we here?

In my mind
worlds collide, die
and begin again

and this most
encumbered heart
still holds hope
by the throat,
refusing, yet, to
let go.

Between earth and sky
is where I abide.

That is where
you'll find me.

Full to the brim,
with questions,
wild, vibrant dreams,
and a never ending
sense...
of wonder.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I will end this.
I will end this...Now!

I will escape your
Covert manipulations.

Under the guise of
“This is for your
Own good” or
“I have the solution.
My way is best”,
You plant rancid
Seeds of cunning
Deceit, and reap
My resentment.

You think your
‘Punishments’
Will make me
Feel powerless,
Submissive,
Intimidated
And lead to my
Destruction?

How wrong
You are;
How you
Underestimated
Me.

Surprised you
Didn’t I?

I am fully grown
And i’ve survived
Other devils
Uglier and sicker
Than you.

Marriage is but
Another cage...
A gilded cage,
Covered in false
Promises
And grandiose lies,
And empty words...
Of l-o-v-e.

The fragile,
Broken shell
Of a girl I used
To be is no longer
Here.

This day,
This time,
This moment
I would take
3 steps back,
And quietly
Slither away,
Like the snake
You are.

No longer tethered
To you.
No more platinum
Chains to
Choke me

‘Cause

I no longer
Give...a...****!

I have nothing
To lose.
I’m a danger...
To you.

So today,
My ‘friendly’ advice
To you is...

Heed my warning,
‘Cause I’ll only
Say this once...

Step the f**k
Back.

The claws are out,
The fangs are bared,
And I dare you...

Come closer...
I won’t bite
(Only rip out
Your jugular).

I promise!

(She said with
A wicked grin)



~by Mercurychyld
Copyright 24 july 14

Demagogues of our society; daftly delivering
disarming delusions of decrepit delights.
Dealing in powder, rock and liquid death,
demurely doled out in droves to the
willing unconscious, dysfunctional deviants
of the land.

Blindly offering devotions, flaccid devotions
to plastic, white collar deities; giving new
definition to internal deformity, through
decelerated dejection.

Desperate and emotionally dismembered,
defrauded by quick, cheap decadence,
debauchery, and mental decay in many
deliriously delicious forms...pick a flavor,
name your poison!

Delegate your defect, as those with
doctoral degrees in defunct traditions
do deviously delineate their demented
designs...for our future.

DejaVu?
Perhaps, but in fact, it is we
who sniff, inject and drink up their drivel,
decidedly and dutifully depleted of
intellect by way of dubious data.

Duplicitous dullards...sanitize and
deodorize their fiendish lies...as we,
WE do nothing!

Not enough of us dumbfounded or
dumbstruck by their deceitful smiles.
Full of dread and deep dismay, by
the statutes of the day...I, for one,
will dream of better days, when we
shall defeat these diabolical demons.

But for now, down beaten, downtrodden;
we will continue to be denigrated for
the duration.
Clever dissection; dumb as they want you
to be,
disparity of all creativity...individuality...
and all of your rights...controversially.
Our disgruntled displeasure doomed...to
fall on dormant hearts...and we,
debilitated and daunted, lives dismantled,
are now forever haunted, by our freedoms
demise...by days we could question
their smiling lies.

Demagogues; Big Brother...such delinquents
dosing up the masses with a deluge of powder,
rock sedation and liquid elation...pick your flavor,
name your poison.

At the end of the day WE are ONE...duped,
defaced, defeated...and to continue on this
road, our final denouement will come
disturbingly disguised...as DEATH!



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

He is the painter,
painting images of
desperate desire
and vistas of love
and secret knowledge,
upon her skin.

Each patient and
skillful brushstroke,
weaves obscure
and cryptic symbols
in subtle, vibrant
tones upon the
supple texture of
her curving form.

She is a leather bound
notebook,
swelling with promise
of verses and poems
yet to be birthed.

He is the quill,
his ink flowing
abundantly,
spilling fertile words...

filling her every page.






-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Who could’ve thought…
certainly not me…
how the fires of love
would burn so intensely,
and consume me
in the miniscule span
of three precious weeks.

Actually though,
it was longer;
it began
eight months earlier;
before the final
three weeks of  your
most cherished life.

It was before I
tenderly touched
your fragile skin,
so paper thin,
and looked into those
beautiful amber eyes,
when you’d open them.

My own amber eyes
looking back at me.
You were my mirror
and I had no idea, then,
just what I’d see,
or what YOU could see
as you looked right
into me.

You, my little one,
showed me a part of
myself I never thought
existed
before you.

If I hadn’t held you
for the treasured
time allowed,
if I hadn’t felt you
with my own skin,
seen you with my
own eyes,
reached out with my
own heart,
or enveloped you with
my own mind,
I wouldn’t have believed
how much the fickle
fires of the heart could
grow, expand and
utterly consume me,
in the span of those
three precious weeks.

The moment you exhaled
your last little breath
and died in my arms,
you took a piece of
my very soul
with you.

Keep it safe, my love.
You planted it deep
within you long ago,
allowing it to grow.

I love you always,
of that never, ever doubt…
till we meet again
my treasured
first born.

I missed you then,
I miss you still,
and for forever
always will.

-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
~~~~~~~

~ In remembrance of my
Giovani, born and died
14 years ago this 5th
of July. Never forgotten.~
❤️

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

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

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

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

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

The truth lies
not in her eyes,
for she learned
long ago
how to forge
desperate lies.

It's as she was
conditioned to do...
to tell lies
with her eyes,
and beguile
with her smile.

The truth lies
not in her eyes,
but if you must know
just where her
verity dwells...

it's in her voice...

the timber,
the rhythm,
the words,
the whispers
in the sound.

It's in her voice
that her truth
will be found.

Can you hear it?




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

Woman: “I know you’re there, I always know,
                  so please, come out.
                  We have so much to talk about.”

Child: “I’m just always scared and alone, it
             really hurts to be me.
             All I am is everything they don’t want
             me to be.”

Woman: “You missed out on so much care and
                  affection, but now we can help each
                   other find the right path and direction.”

Child: “Oh, it’s ok.
             I’m never good enough.
             Guess I never really deserved
             love or affection anyway.”

Woman: “Please don’t say that, don’t let’em
                  convince you that **** drivel is
                  true.
                  I’ve known you well, always, and I
                  truly DO...Love you.”

Child: “No matter how I tried, I could never
             please, or do ANYTHING right.
             I’m just SO tired of this fight.”

Woman:” I know, my fragile child, that’s why
                  I’m still learning to be
                  everything you need and needed,
                  you see?
                  Because, my little one, we must
                  both realize and always remember
                  that we are never quite alone...

                  ‘cause I am YOU, and you are ME!”



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I see,
I know,
I feel,
I recognize your pain.

All that you attempt to hide
from the world is a gloriously
open book...for me.

For, you see, I live in that
same pain as well.

We are neighbors, you
and I, though you
don't seem to know it.

We share adjoining rooms
there...like bookends,
holding up the spined
volumes of our
injured, fragile
lives.

But no fear,
for what I've seen
and all I know..of you...
will never leave my
sight and will never
be discarded or
disclosed to others
who will never,
could never...
truly understand.

You mean more to me
than even I dare admit,
and you always inspire
worlds of thought,
as you have carved
yourself a unique
space in this tattered
heart....
and I will protect this
'gift' of you...

as long as I draw breath.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Ahhh...

Let us go,
together,
you and I

down into
the rabbit hole.

Let me be...
your filling dessert,
your wicked garden.

Pluck the thorny rose
and warm the frigid
tundra,
with the warmth of
your honey wine.

Become...
my silvery
dark prince
in that vase
field of gold.

As your lips,
the heat of your
breath,
the timber of your
whispered sweet
nothings,
your skillful hands,
and the story in
your eyes...
send chills of ecstasy
down my spine

and impassioned fumes
besiege my mind.

Let me..
get under your skin,

Let me...
****** you..
from within.

Take my hand,
follow me

together we'll be
free.

You and I,
together as one
shall go...

down, into
the rabbit hole.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Sometimes
the words drop
from fingertips,
climbing over each
other like playful
children.

Sometimes
the words flow
quietly, gently,
like soft waters in
a whispering pond.

Sometimes
the words burst out,
roaring like mighty
thunder,
sparking the sky
like brilliant
lightening.

Sometimes
the words spill out,
like scalding lava,
scorching and setting
aflame all in their wake.

Sometimes
the words latch on
with fangs,
suckling the life
force from its
intended victim.

Sometimes
the words infuse
thought and passion
into the bloodstream,
like a ***** *******,
injecting
euphoric bliss.

Sometimes
the words sit back,
silently observing
waiting,
patiently,
for the need
to birth the cries
of the heavy heart

releasing an ocean
of emotion…

and drowning
the world.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 16 Oct. 2015
Friday

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

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

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

She walks in circles
ever confused in this life
in the grips of fear.



~ by Mercurychyld
(Aka Maria E Labbe)
Copyright 22 Feb 16
Tuesday

Long ago,
seems a century ago now,
I came upon what I
thought was a jewel
in the sand;

a diamond in the rough.
The most valuable jewel
I possessed,
but,
one day I took a
closer look and discovered
my diamond was not
a diamond at all,
or any kind of precious stone.

It had lost its luster
and in my hand all I had
was a broken piece of glass,

then,
it cut me.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Frustration
Revelation
Desperation
no Elation,
compounded by
the heavy
Situation...at hand.

Pride
Implied
Simplified
Justified,
truth set
Aside...consolation banned.

Spying
Prying
Dying,
no Edifying,
Defying, while I,
Complying
Intensifying;
some day...must take a stand.

Condescend
Pretend
Offend
Contend,
then a friend to
Comprehend
I Transcend,
lividity's End,
peace will
Ascend...new life to expand.


~ Conclusion ~

Transformation
Purified
Satisfying,
lessons acquired
and generously
Penned.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Floating from moment
to moment,
the red balloon
travels through and past
every phase of life,
never staying long
in one spot.

It was made for this
purpose;
to fly and soar
in the atmosphere,
wandering, observing
and wildly free.

At times, it longs
for an anchor
to hold onto for a while
and be still.

It knows no other way.
Always alone,
even in the midst of
others of its kind.

The red ballon
endures its long
journey alone,
plagued by its
difference and
uniqueness.

Ever unknowable
and misunderstood;
an enigma for the ages,
full of mystery
and longing.

It floats along,
collecting memories
and stories,
often dreaming of
finding anchor,
of reaching peace
and discovering
its true home.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights 22 May 15
Friday

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

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

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

The days are getting darker and cloudier now,
like a metaphor for where my spirit is.
I feel the tentacles of depression taking hold,
quietly slithering, one by one, around my throat,
squeezing the smiles and laughter and happy
thoughts away.
Nothing gives me joy, not even the usual pleasures.
The music has taken on a sad and menacing tone,
reminding me that depression is, once again, a most
unwanted yet insistent guest.

I stood back, and simply
watched..in silence..
as you went searching..
for me.

You searched everywhere,
high and low,
at every park,
in every bar,
through every store,
each passing car.

No stone did you leave
unturned,
and I, stood back and
simply watched..in
silence..as you searched
and searched..for me.

What you failed to
realize, as you
stepped all over reason,
and passed by every
rhyme,
was that I was there,
right there,
the whole entire time.

Always near,
never apart.

I was always there...
right under the surface
of your rhythmic,
beating heart.




-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

It is an imposing
and intrusive realization
that sorrow and
righteous fury
take a hold of the
psyche and the soul
in places where most
would not allow
even God or His angels
to tread.


by- Mercurychyld
Copyright 31 Aug. 2016
Wednesday

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

The great Moon rises
a phoenix ascends from ash
a cold heart ignites.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 8 Aug. 14

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


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Compelled by the wind
set adrift alone at sea
my heart finds no ease

A lost soul cries out
loudest silence ever heard
falling on deaf ears

The semblance of youth
a clock ticking life away
a heart torn apart



-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

“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

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

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

Fleeting thoughts
come and go.

Full of trepidation
and broken bones

Looking, searching
wildly in the mind
for a place of solace,
just to rest
awhile.

Wondering, suddenly,
of Heaven
and its
blessed inhabitants.

How must it be,
what must they do?

I cannot begin to imagine,
but,
what I CAN say is
what they DON’T have.

They have no pain,
no sorrows or dark thoughts,
no hurts or anger
or fears.

Those days are over
for them,
if they had a life,
here.

We shouldn’t ‘envy’,
yes, I know this, but,
I do, I DO envy,
them
and what they
DON’T have,
of which I have
an abundance;
perhaps more than
my share.

I envy them,
and pray to have one day,
what they have,
so I can walk forward
and forget…

Forget the plethora
of trials and
tribulations
as endured by
you, me, us.

We that wake each day
on this volatile,
mercurial planet
we call…
home.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 28 Jan 15

Why?
Why do you bother
Coming here?

I look into your eyes
and all I see is
a wall,
a dark, impenetrable
wall,
and looking at you
while you look back
at me,
seemingly burning
a black hole
into me…
just hurts.

It hurts
like nothing else.
It’s a realm of hurt
all its own.

It’s a different hurt
than when my
son died,
my first son,
and I thought that
was the worst
it could ever get.

It hurts differently
than when ‘he’
cheated
and ripped
my ****** heart
out from the roots,
leaving a crimson hole,
an immeasurable
hollow
for all the world
to see.

This hurt,
it belongs high up
on a pedestal of pain,
so I can see it
again and again,
while it laughs
and glares down
at me,

with those dark,
impenetrable eyes,
just to watch me
tremble and weep

for this great hurt
that reaches so
**** far
and deep.


~ by Mercurychyld
Copyright 26 July14