.
She sits for most of the time,
in a metal chair with wheels.
Counting out the value of life
with an injury that never heals.

She waits for most of the time,
to confirm that she is really there.
But how many people notice her
sat down in her wheel-chair.

She's invisible for most of the time,
she is there but nobody spies.
So she spreads her tiny wings
and floats unnoticed to the skies.

She cried for most of the time,
always alone and lonely in a crowd.
Now flying free her spirit rises,
there's no discrimination in the clouds.


© Pagan Paul (25/12/16)

Today I secured
a heart in love,
    but lost
                 loneliness.

I'll never try to find it now its gone.....

I hear the screaming and this time it's not from within.
But that does not exclude the demon's trying to break me in.
There are tears in here, but they're not mine at least not for now.
I need to go outside, nothing's alright. I need to shut you out.
I see the pain so clearly cause it's all I used to feel.
I see you kick, I see you shout, but I'll no longer kneel.
Now I think I'm used to it, this has happened too much before.
I will be fine, I'll be alright. This I will now ignore.
This was their advice for so long, I'm just now following it through.
Just don't forget years from now that the cause of this partly all of you.
I feel like I've walked alone since there's no one with me here now,
and I've done this before with another approach, not one that bleeds me out.
This started as I was born and I'm afraid this will never end.
I guess that's fate, my destiny, otherwise I cannot pretend.
Reach my mind, hear my thoughts, then try not to scream aloud.
I'll tell you my memories of all my life, but please don't tear me down.

By Arcassin Burnham


To be truthful I'm not perfect and I know nobody is and if no one
Will love me then God was always there from the beginning to
When I had my first ****** encounter to telling the first girl I'd
Rather marry her and have the kids that we dreamt about in
The moment that it started making me believe how some things
Could be good and only good for they would never work out in
The end, use to tell myself in the past there was no time to pretend,
And when each person leaves it's a cycle that'll never end,
One of the reasons why my life was caught up in so much sin,
Later , now when I repent,
Leave my life and you will see what the definition of grudge is,
Sweet vibes in memories but enough I can't stress this,
When I tell myself that I don't stress at all in the peril of my own
Demise letting all my energy and focus go into things that I can
Not hold in disguise,
Hang me dry Lord.......

I sunk to the bottom of the ocean once. Though it wasn't really all that grand. Everything that I saw was either shrouded in darkness, or a silty haze. The water was cold and the currents were violent. They ****** me too and fro.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like it there at the bottom of the ocean, it's calm and it's dark and it soothes the fires of a soul like mine. The passage there however is the part that hurts so much, for before you may sink into the silky silt of the ocean floor and become neighbors with the *****, you must descend through the turbulence and the dangerous anglerous fish that inhabit the places betwixt.

I suppose the hardest part about the journey is saying goodbye to the sunshine that you grew to love, after having spent time, from the ocean floor.

Someone drags you up and you see the sun and you start to laugh more, and you start to love more and everything starts to feel warm and beautiful again. You look at that someone that brought you up and wrought you into shape and  you see such beauty. They shine like the sun, no, they are even better.

But sometimes,

They abandon us.

That is not to say we are doomed to sink back down, they do not hold us here, as we do not hold them. We are free to remain on the surface with the sunlight.

Most of us choose to jump back in, though.

Let the ocean swallow us whole once again.

Some swim back to the surface, determined to, perhaps, be more than a friendly newspaper conversation with a crustacean.

However, many just live there, unwilling, unable, to go anywhere else.

I sunk, to the bottom of the ocean once. Or twice, and a few times after that. Always finding a reason to swim back, sometimes I am dragged back. No matter which way though and honestly, how matters not, I always end up back on that beach.

Waiting, watching the ocean. Wondering, pondering the possibilities and if I should wade back out and sink down once again.

The ocean surely is a frightful thing.

Bring me to the edge
the water bubbling and deep
let me see the fear and drink from its cup
show me the shadows, let me hear their whispers and feel the chill of their touch
let me bask in the darkness, absorb the night and bathe in the light of the falling stars
give me the clouds, the ones that block the moon, and show me the monsters that hide in their shade
I will indeed drink deep from fear as the chilling rain rolls in
pouring, falling, falling, failing
crashing in steady cacophony
Am I brave yet?
Is courage embracing fear as a brother or withstanding its onslaught

No, I am not brave.  
I wanted darkness and I have it
It is not scary, it is lonely
and I am so
very scared
of being
alone.

Yes I am upset,
how could I not.
You say you can see the pain, but right now it's all that I've got.
If there's a cure for this sickness of anger in me,
it's either a secret right here or found only if I leave.
And don't act like something new hasn't turned hot every chance I get to breathe.
I am not stupid, but all I can say for you is assuming hopefully.
If I was done with this by choice I wouldn't be dealing with this now.
And every time I re-explain it's all, "Oh jeez, wow".
Maybe all I need is a hug instead of someone to understand.
If God doesn't put on our plate anything we cannot take
then, ****, I must be some one helluva man.
If I were done with this **** there wouldn't have been this toilet I've clogged.
And if people heard me more often and all the poems I've blogged
maybe this has all been a pointless idea, something just stupid.
But I guess it'd be okay if it was cause by now I'm used to it.
I have done this for me and not nobody else,
the only one who I know for certain gets this is myself.
I have a way with words and
just like food some people scrap to get it in the streets without love.
it points right back at me.
Though if it goes somewhere else it's a point I don't see.
And that'd be because I'm blinded by my own loneliness,
yes I can own up to that, a closed book, masked with phoniness.
And I know I'm not the only one, and right now's to work on myself,
I've longed learned the lesson not to fix on somebody else.
Foolishness it is, and a fool I've been,
and stereotyped that is to be a defined American.
Bigotry's not in my nature, I try to be understanding.
Cause I've always been somewhere similar,
 and my empathy's pretty demanding.
So it's easy to feel your **** and how you can bleed
whenever you're considered "friend in need".
Again I digress cause I'm thinking so tiredly,
sleep is my slave master and at the same time a courtesy.
Something we need and something we never get enough of,
just like the food some have scrapped for in the streets with no love.