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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The beauty of the day
comes in the guise
of a simple, silky,
smooth cup of
french vanilla coffee.

As frothy liquid descends,
sending sparks of warmth
from my belly to every
nerve,
I am reminded that,
regardless of daily
requirements or chores,
to always, take some
time, for myself.

In this cup is where the
beauty of my day begins.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Meet me in the Night
where stars and skies would frolick
we'll sway to their drums


-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 ~ ❤️ ~

"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

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

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

My sweet boy-what can't I say about you; about what
You mean to me?
I NEVER wish to forget those three weeks, and eight
months before that, that we spent together.
I was your vessel, your shelter, your link to the outside
world. You fluttered inside me; a constant reminder
of the life I carried within. I looked so forward to making your acquaintance and
finally see, with my own eyes, this little person with
whom I had come to fall deeply in love with.
I felt joy at all your acrobatic twists and turns.
But you were born too early, too small, so fragile.
Your little intestines became infected beyond help-
and you, little one, would not survive.
I only had but three weeks with you.
These would be the most beautiful, agonizing days,
hours, minutes of my life.
You took with you, forever, a central piece of
my heart that nothing or no one here can ever fill.
But I know that one day, I will finally shower you
with all the hugs, kisses and I-love-you's I didn't get to
give you here on this earth.
You are my link to Eden, my little one.
You still live...forever...inside of me,
just where you began.


by Mercurychyld
8 June 06
(dreaming of my boy....)

Copyrights

I think about him often,
but he doesn’t know it.

I wonder how it
would feel to
touch his lips and
melt into him,
but he’ll never know it.

My mind wanders
and goes for long walks
in a fantasy world
of ‘could be’s’ and
‘why nots’ and
wonders how it
would be to just
show up where he resides.

What would his reaction be,
would he even recognize me,
would he pull me inside,
not say a word
but push me up against
a wall, his body pressed
into mine, his lips on
mine
kissing me ferociously,
desperately?

I’ve never met him,
but I miss him when
he’s gone,
but he doesn’t know it.

I long to feel him,
taste him, hear his voice,
and feel the heat
of his whispers
in my ear,
and the scorching burn
of his passion
on my skin.

I long to see the fire
In his eyes
and witness all
the stories he holds
but never tells.

I long to watch him
light up when he
searches and finds
me in a crowd.

I want to tattoo
him into my memory
and never forget,
and never let go,

but he’ll never know it.


~ by Mercurychyld
Copyright 24 July 14

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

My current mission is at hand;
to fly away to foreign land.

Today is the day of my
****** flight,

In which I will soar to an
unfathomable height.

Away from all that I
have known.

A journey I must attempt
alone.

To gods of space and time
I send a desperate plea...

Allow me passage through
your ancient realms; please
grant your mercy to me.

This mission must come
to fruition,

Regardless of my final
outcome or condition.

As on darkened wings
I begin my ascent,

To wherever this willing
spirit shall be sent.

Till ultimately I will
prayerfully discover,

The most obscure secrets
of earth and self, that I
am gifted to uncover.



-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.

You bleed and
you wither,
and you bruise
and you shatter,

though, outwardly,
most can’t tell,
blinded and deafened
by their own
inane chatter,

as you slowly
and cursedly die,
it just doesn’t seem
to matter.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 28 Jan 15

Let the bough break,
Let London’s bridge finally fall.
Go ahead, lock her up
and throw away the key.

The roof,
the roof is on fire;
let that M%#@%F+$@*R burn!

This time, the truth
won’t set you free.

When the folks are good,
they’re very, very good,
but these days, I’m afraid,
they’re simply horrid.


-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

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

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

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

This day never ends,
not for me.
Dressed in the guise of
weeks, months and years,
but to me,
it’s all one
never-ending day.

I am a wildcat in a cage
made of consequences,
vile people
and wrong turns.

I am not a child
nor a woman,
nor a human anymore.

I am an ANIMAL
trapped in a cage
made of flesh and bone,
tied and twisted
with veins and arteries
laced with toxic outrage
and liquid pain.

I am a BEAST
caught in a trap
so invisible,
no one else can see.

I am fangs and claws,
surviving only on the
basest instincts.

I want to rip
through flesh,
tear at my
private thoughts,
claw at the venomous
upsurge of emotion
flowing through
this battered heart
and dying spirit.

This day never ends,
not for me.

The years pass,
the scenery may change,
colors become muted,
life tastes bland,
but the day never ends,
never comes to a close.

It’s all a wicked
nightmare that screams
in your head,
then suddenly stops
and goes silent,
waiting for you to find
your comfortable place
again,
only to reach out
with sadistic pleasure
and grab you
with unremitting vigor.

If there is an end,
my eyes are blind to it.

One day I will
finally explode
and all that I am
and have ever been
will ooze out,
drenching everything
in its wake,
like hard rain.

One day the madness
will cease,
life will come to a
standstill;
till that time comes
my life will continue
on this dark, morbid road,
and the day will
never end…

at least not for me.


-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

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

A medley of poets came together
from both near and far.

Creating and sharing poetry and
war stories of life, at the edge of
our own makeshift bar.

The atmosphere was filled with
friendship, fun and laughter.

Something not often sampled
enough, but now treasured
forever after.

Many got inked with a lasting
remembrance on their skin.

A moment in time carried on
the wings of tattoos; a memory’s
place to begin.

Such a wondrous gathering of
creative juices flowed, I couldn’t
have asked for a more amazing
group.

And my heart is full at the
generosity of our grand hostess,
Metanoia...
giving us all a meeting place in
which to share, express, and for
a while, from life...to recoup.





-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

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

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
©

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

The plans for her
return
always cause the
greatest dis-ease
to the system.

Mother…a wound
that only ever
scabs over,
but never truly
heals.

She comes from
many miles away;
a casually dressed
monster
with self-proclaimed
‘good intentions’,
like the road to Hell.

My hell…on Earth.
Have I yet paid
my dues?
Have I done enough
penance…ever?

The link to
maintaining my
sanity;
the calming balm
to my distressed
heart…is him.

My lifeline,
the reason I can
continue to smile
and laugh, uninterrupted,
despite the oozing
wound,
invisible to the
naked eye,
appearing to others,
that don’t know
the history,
as simply…
attitude.

The wound never
truly heals;
there is no
‘closure’.
I’ve given up on
that particular idea…
wish…goal.

Despite the ever
festering
inflicted/afflicted
hurt;
my baggage,
which seldom gets
lighter,
I find his comforting
hand, which reaches
for my own,
leading me away,
sometimes even pulling me,
for my own good,
into the light,
giving respite to
the wearied psyche
that dwells in my head.

He shines the brightest
of Suns
upon my often
frigid, numbed soul,
melting away
the sickness,
the brain-washing,
the manipulation
of eons gone by.

Always leaving behind
Shadows
where their
very breath
used to be.

He is the safe haven,
the cocoon
which allows my
safe metamorphosis,
until I can slowly
break out of my shell,
stretching out
multi-colored wings
and finally,
flying,
flying,
flying Free.


-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

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

Plagiarists,
Bullies,
eat the fruits
of Vanity
and Debauchery so profane.

Salaciousness,
Selfishness;
none will ever be the same.

Adultery,
Greed;
not one word of wisdom
do they ever heed.

Pride and
Hedonistic pursuits
are the ways
of our days.

For crimes of
the flesh,
for ****** of spirit
all must
eventually pay.

Made to believe
that you’re less than,
the truly brave are too few.
Taught to accept
there is something
inherently wrong with
YOU.

Right and wrong,
kindness,
forgiveness,
love unconditional,
all seem mere myth
of ages past.

Like a train wreck
just bound to happen,
as wheels spin
much too fast.

‘Always be YOU’;
the ironic advice
of the day,
but inspire any group
the least bit of discomfort,
your country
will throw you away.

Where we’ll end up,
I have not a clue,
but...
what colors
your heart and mind
will tell the world,
either private or public,
a potentially scandalous
slew...

about YOU.


-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

~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

Life has always been one
where I swam upstream,
against the tide,
always against.

Most times the waters rage,
offering no mercy,
but only turmoil
as I thrash around
the powerful waters,
as if wrestling
Neptune himself.

At times the god
seems appeased,
for a while,
and the waters relent,
caressing me,
playing, pushing, pulling
back and forth,
as if a smoothly choreographed
ballet.

The calm never lasts,
very long.
I know this well.
I only attempt to enjoy
these softer moments,
while they grant me
subtle tendrils
of relief.

Soon enough
the angry waves return,
challenging me,
daring me to continue
this treacherous swim,
upstream,
always against
the tide.

Too often
I have felt the danger,
the desire even,
to finally let go
and drown.

Funny thing is
I have no real clue
how I’ve made it
thus far…

as I never learned
to swim.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 11 Jan. 2015

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

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

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

I saw it...ravaged and old,
cursed by...time.
Left to rot in an
old, unwelcoming lot.

It told of so many roads
traveled, so many
conversations had...
so much love made in
the dark of night, parked
in secret places.

Life...it had 'life' once..
long ago.

So many places, so many
stories, buried forever,
within squeaky hinges
and forgotten steal.

Now, disregarded...
and discarded...but
once, long ago, it
provided...it was
essential and carried
precious cargo,
encased by metal and
glass....

before becoming a relic
of another time.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 2015


* Re: a picture of an old parked, rusted pick-up truck

As I sit here
quietly,
thinking,
tears spill for strangers
as I try desperately
to rationalize
(to absolutely NO avail),
the heinous and
morbid act carried out
by this...DAD.
I find my mind,
my heart,
in utter turmoil.

Can’t help but wonder
what their last thoughts were,
what they were feeling.
Did they cry in hysterics,
or (as I was trained to do)
quietly, to themselves?
Did they beg DADDY
for their little lives?
Did they beg DADDY
not to hurt them?
Did the oldest
shield the younger ones,
before the lights went out?

My soul in despair.
My ‘Mother instincts’
just wanna scream,
lash out,
find the monster
and destroy him.
Splay him on a slab,
like t.v.’s
favorite serial killer
would.

Make him pay,
slowly,
a long, arduous,
drawn out
painful DEATH.

It’s but a drop in
the bucket
of what that
fiendish ***** deserves.
His soul is empty,
so, there’s nothing
real to terminate.

The tears flow,
my thoughts in chaos,
and my ‘mothers heart’
mourns them all;
these five little souls
I’ve never met.

I do pray
they come across
my own departed
little boy in Heaven,
and find a joyous place
for them to run and play
and be the children
they weren’t allowed
to be,
before their fragile lives
were cruelly snuffed out
by someone who
was supposed to
love and protect.

They were candles
in the wind,
not meant to
be here long.
This maddening act
makes NO sense
to me;
these daily horrors
that happen in this
dark world
where we all reside,
kills yet another piece
of me,
one wicked story at
a time.

I’m sure every loving parent
and anyone who’s ever
loved a child
would be distraught
and mortified,
as I find myself to be.

I can only think on them
and Pray
that their little souls
will find true
Peace now,
through God’s
passageway.


-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