"krizay" poems
My Kite
The view of purplish branches upon the trees and
Looking beyond grassy mountains on the horizon
Bring back memories of my childhood days,
Wading in a nearby creek and flying my kite before a sunlit sky
And then recalling the wind beginning to blow.
Magenta leaves would decorate
Branches of both growing and fallen trees-
Wild geese soared above and deer were running freely
While my kite was carried upward by the wind
As highly as those trees would ever grow.
My kite I believed would carry that mysterious spirit deep inside of me
Into which I had placed all my faith and trust
The tail of my kite seemed to cross the sun, though far above me
I feared the demons’ of the woodlands following me as I walked-
But with strong assurance I pursued my kite wherever it would go.
Dark clouds began to cover the sun one day and
Branches upon the trees were seemingly blackening
While lightening sharply illuminated the sky
I believed a storm was rapidly approaching.
As fright and haunting disbelief inside of my mind began to overshadow. .
I have told others that my kite held within my protective soul which was always with me
Because I saw it to be an angel dancing freely in the sky
I believe my kite held inside the spirit of a seraph,
That saved me from all that betrayed and hurt me
As the voices inside of my mind had often told me so.
Years have passed and that wind was always fierce and deceitful-
Breaking the string with which I held my kite-
I sadly watched it as it flew higher and higher towards the sky
Until it disappeared behind those approaching darkening thunderclouds
Vanishing beyond my sight- leaving me frightened and alone below.
Years have also passed since I lost my kite which I believed was my guiding illumination
People would laugh and say my mind had escaped reality
Now I can see that there is no one to save me from those demons of this planet
I still hide the pain of loss of my spirit of salvation behind laughter and a smile
But that does not erase the void I feel inside and that is an unrelenting sorrow.
Claudia Krizay
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
The Fence
A wooden fence once surrounded my home
Which I had hoped would keep out all intruders-
It was the fence my father had built
Years before his passing
Alive always inside a world of my own
I had built myself a different sort of fence-
One made of spoken words and angry gestures
That would ward away intruders I believed were always out to harm me.
A wooden fence can simply be sawed or broken down
When one is motivated to do so
And locks to their gates can be opened with a key
Therefore a wooden fence most likely will not shut the world out.
My own fence has shut the real world out
My soul and spirit are protected.
My special fence keeps me sheltered from the world outside
And is built from barbed wire of my imagination.
My mother and my father have passed away years ago-
They shall never become part of my private world –
It was not my wish that they would have ever been, as
They were forever trying to break down that fence that guarded my castle in the sky.
Now I am living in a different place in time-
Far from the wooden fence surrounding what was once my family’s home
Life is safer and not as threatening now
But I still with caution carry with me that extraordinary fence of my dreams.
Someday I hope that I can find that phantasmal key
That key that would unlock the gate to that protective fence of mine-
So that I could step out side, if only for a brief moment-
And hopefully learn that the real world is not a place to fear.
I hope that one day I shall awaken to a rainbow on my horizon
And that fence I have hidden behind for all the days of my life
Shall vanish as did the wooden fence had after so many years-
And I can find new freedom while I give thanks that I no longer have to be afraid.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
Thought Broadcasting
Silence is a silver ship
Traveling at the speed of the darkness,
Black holes are the edifices in which I
Build my thoughts-
Word by word,
Each and every syllable forms upon my lips,
And then broadcasted, aloud-
Thoughts are killers- thoughts can harm-
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
Within this room I write my thoughts
With a pen that is void of ink, or a pencil
That has no lead,
Invisible they are, but somehow,
These thoughts are broadcasted aloud.
Thoughts are killers thoughts control-
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
A silver ship with its sail to the wind,
A wild horse that canters across vast terrain, or
Pebbles that roll off of my fingertips,
That splash into the creek, one by one,
You can see, you can hear, as
My thoughts, broadcasted aloud.
My thoughts can be heard from afar.
My thoughts are a flame that only I can quench.
I am in control of what comes into my mind,
As my hands build the world from
The bricks of Time,
My thoughts control the world.
My thinking destroys those, whom I abhor,
My thoughts control the downtrodden.
Silence is a silver ship, or
The dome beneath which I dwell-
I build my edifice beneath this dome.
No one dares to enter, as
I have broadcasted a message to the world,
My eyes order the world away;
My thoughts are broadcasted aloud,
A bad thought can destroy, as good ones
Create and control,
My thoughts control the world…
Claudia Krizay
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
Seclusion
Tonight is a dark night
Here within the garden of the deceased-
In this place where wounded spirits who have lost their sanity
Are banned from the world outside,
Here in this desolate place where nobody sees the light of day.
I am alone where the walls are barren and
The floors have yellowed-
***** stained and tiles are cracked-
I stare at the ceiling through a curtain of tears falling from bloodshot eyes-
Moribund, I cannot escape past memories of merciless abuse which are colliding with
Recollections of profound neglect buried in the depths of a graveyard of despair-
As in a scene from a tragic film, I have become the infamous star,
I hear the wall clock outside steadily ticking
Rhythmically in time with hellions screaming from inside the fortress of my mind-
My emaciated body is robed in a sallow gown and
I can feel serpents twisted about my calves constricting.
This is a dark night-
This is a dark night where I have lost my grasp on veracity-
This is a dark night where I have been separated from the outside world-
This is the garden of the deceased, where
Phantasmal gravestones surround my dissolving soul-
My mind is in a wretched state and my thoughts are bellowing lunacy-
My cries for help have been silenced.
My worm infested brain is decaying-
I can only hear above the screaming stillness
The ticking of the wall clock outside, and
Threatening voices emanating from inside of my mind-
Putrid scents of rotting corpses infiltrate this cell and
I vociferate madness as the dirges that echo about my mind attempt to deafen me-
Neither moonlight nor sunlight can penetrate this windowless chamber-
Within this garden of the deceased where my spirit has just perished-
This is a dark night and I have been banned from the world outside-
In a desperate search for relief my outstretched arms attempt
To reach towards heaven as I can feel
My dissolving spirit sinking through the cracks in the decrepit linoleum tiles below-
I believe I can hear angels singing ‘Abide with me’ mourning the death of my soul-
The wall clock outside ticks on and on as I have lost my battle with fate-
I have become a lone cadaver buried here in the garden of the deceased-
This is a dark night where time has unobtrusively slipped away.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
The Moon and the Shooting Stars
The moon and the shooting stars
Roses dancing in a cool summer breeze- and
A daffodil towers above the rosebuds-
I was once a lost soul.
I recall childhood days when
I picked those roses and made a bouquet-
Placed it haphazardly upon my mother’s desk-
I still thought of that lonesome daffodil
Its petals wavering in a burst of wind-
The chair at my mother’s desk is empty-
The desk itself is barren-
It was twenty years ago that my mother passed away-
The wind is the force that is against me-
The rain now falling is my tears-
The thunder is the rage seething inside of me, and
Lightening is my strength that shall strike
All those that try to harm me-
The sun sets and the moon appears over the horizon,
Rose petals flutter about and
I am that daffodil standing against the force of the wind-
Night descends and the moon and the shooting stars
Glimmer in the dark summer’s nighttime sky-
My mother is gone like the rose petals are now and
I am no longer a lost soul-but
I have become a woman and am like
That daffodil that stands tall against the force of
The wind that gusts before a storm arrives-
Claudia Krizay
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Green is the eye of Venus, though now tightly shut.
Ancient music drums,
Trees viridian-hued.
The night has settled, dark as fear.
I rode a stallion-
Jet-black he was,
Against an array of foliage,
Emerald green,
Into the dead of night,
He rode.
Sleeping, I am?
Or am I living within some land of the surreal?
Lost within a valley,
I lie amongst tall reeds.
Water showers down upon me.
Skies turn mauve, purplish-
No calm before this storm.
Struck by lightening,
Branches are fallen by the wind.
Upon awakening,
As day breaks,
The ancient music’s melody is arrested.
A sibilant voice whispers to me:
“Sleep amongst the dead,
And depart from the living.”
As I nonchalantly gaze at the rising sun,
I wave “goodbye” to Venus,
And as she falls behind the horizon,
She waves back at me, and winks at me,
While ancient music begins drumming again…
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
Shades of Blue (For Emma, my beloved cat)
Windows are open just a crack and
The ceiling lights are on- I feel that the walls are closing in on me.
All I can see is darkness
Until I look into your eyes, as they rescue me from my madness.
Your eyes, when open, are blue as the ocean reflecting the sunlight and
I touch you gently, you do not move-You are asleep, curled up by my side-
For the first time in my life I feel loved and not afraid-
Blue is the color of the sky on a summer’s day,
Blue is the color of the walls that surround me
The color blue caresses me,
When I am lost in the bleak darkness of despair-
I am locked inside a world of my own-
Where veracity rarely enters- my angry thoughts contain me-
People have robbed me of my guiding light
I wonder where to my reality has vanished- as
My spirit has been snatched away-
I paint my world shades of blue, I can feel the ocean waves come over me
Colored a deep blue reflecting the sunlight they have cleansed my soul of pain.
I opened my door just for a brief moment to let you enter-
You are the only reality I can accept right now-
Lying close to me- as always,
So tiny the day I brought you home- my very essence was
Standing upon the edge of death, but I was comforted by your gentleness,
And by your unconditional love.
I can say I love you, you are not human.
I could hold you in my arms – you are not a threat to me.
Your eyes so blue shine light upon my dark world.
But I know you shall pass away before me.
I have opened more to you than the door to my world,
I have opened my heart to let you in-
Some say you would never comprehend my thoughts, as
You do not hear me crying.
But I would never believe those words- because
Your presence has given me hope-
When you open your eyes and look lovingly into mine-
I know I have been saved- I had lost myself when I was born.
When you came into my life I could feel your softness comforting me-
I know our time together shall end in less than awhile and sadly
That was meant to be.
Life is bittersweet-
A different shade of blue-the blueness of sorrow- However
The reason I am alive today is because, you, my dear friend are also alive, and as always,
Taking my tears away, and then giving me the strength to persevere.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
Sirens
Past midnight I can hear a siren blasting,
The sound loudening as it passes by
I believe that somebody could be at death’s door tonight.
Rapidly disappearing down the highway
Though out of sight now but never out of mind-
I can still hear the alarm bell blaring-
As it did the night my mother was taken away
Twenty two years ago today.
Not so long ago- I can recall
When I myself was taken away because
Somehow my grasp on reality had faded-
I believed I was possessed by some demonic being.
And hearing voices no one else could hear.
A raging sound it was, and unrelenting-
A sound reminiscent of agonizing dread
I recall fading into the bleakness of despair, as
My whole world had darkened and became ill fated.
I can still hear sirens every day and night
Blasting down the thoroughfare
Within the realm of my imagination, I can still envision
Dying souls buried within the gardens of the deceased.
I can hear those sirens blaring now, on this night
Bringing back memories of my mother’s demise or of
The night I had lost my sanity-
As I clench my fists in utmost fear, I try to seek the light-
As the sirens I hear screaming down the road tonight
Could be coming to take ME away once more, and
I could be the victim once again,
But as the outrageously terrifying noise quickly fades away
A sigh of relief brings a smile upon my face
As I realize that those times are over and behind me now=and
Memories of those times have suddenly and miraculously slipped away.
Claudia Krizay
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 1:45 AM UTC
My Living Nightmare
I would play my father’s favorite sonata on my family’s grand piano
While he stood watching over me-Every morning to the late afternoon.
Voices inside of mind were commanding and
As a threatening black cloud became a curtain closing before my eyes,
I yearned to retreat to that hidden world of my own.
Although the tune I played was somewhat soothing,
Firecrackers were exploding inside of my mind-
My father was the taskmaster
Vociferating his own domineering commands –
He was the devil’s advocate and the slave driver ruling my life.
Inside of my mind were deeply rooted fears
Pain stabbing my heart with every palpitation
I can still hear those voices screaming that nobody else could fathom
Piercing my brain as would shards of broken glass-
As I can still see spiders crawling across the ceiling above me.
This is my state of mind that has rudely taken over my life
As if I were driving, losing control of the steering wheel and crashing-
Schizophrenia is the name that was given to define this turmoil that contains me
As I still have memories of lying unresponsive in a hospital seclusion room
In desperation hoping to somehow appease my troubled soul.
Memories and flashbacks plague me every day and night-
As I am playing the same sonata on the grand piano of my dreams
I lost my father twenty two years ago
His absence has brought me some relief from that never ending trepidation
But I still ask myself “what is this lurid demise that has stricken me truly all about?”
I believe that demons possessed my spirit before the day I was born-
My father believed my state of mind was merely about lassitude and misbehaving-
So I would play for him that same sonata on the grand piano he so often yearned to hear-
But I still cannot comprehend what went wrong on that journey towards my birth-
Whether I look backward in time or move forward- I guess I never will.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
My Soul Afire
The rising sun sets my soul afire
At the dawning of every new day-
I see life as a new beginning-
Cardinals, robins, blue jays and finches
Carry on with their tune as the
Orchestra of a gentle spring like breeze
Rustles the newly unfolded leaves upon every tree-
Alone to enjoy the mystery of the woodlands-
The sun’s rays shining through the
Branches of the maple trees-
Dogwood blossoms both crimson pink and white
Against a sky of cerulean blue
Evoke a chorus from my spirit-
A hymn of freedom and ecstasy, as
My spirit and soul have been reborn.
As the day progresses
I am overcome by fear and
At the noon of the day the sun rises above the mountains
The world comes out from hiding-
This is the time when strangers become invasive,
Clouds overtake the light and
The rain begins to fall.
Thunder would clap and rain would pour downward in a
Spitefully intrusive manner
Quenching the magical flames
That had my spirit and soul dancing to the
Early morning symphony that the world has
Maliciously taken aback-
When the night takes over
I see the full moon ascend over the horizon and the
Stars are bright-
The stars are bright and Mars is a brilliant red while
Venus winks at me with its eyes of green-
Stars and planets are mystifyingly beautiful in their own way, though
Light years away-
If I listen vigilantly-
I can hear ancient music imminent from
The stars and planets in the vastness of the universe as
The moon appears above the treetops-
It shines its light upon me and sets my spirit dancing and once again-
Sets my soul afire-
Claudia Krizay
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
Mask
Past the midnight hour I would lie still—
Passers by read peaceable expressions upon my countenance-
A gentle breeze rocks the branches on the trees outside
Words inscribed before their eyes would say all is well-
Clouds cover the sky,
Grass covers the ground upon which we walk and
Nobody sees beneath that sinister mask that I wear-
I have walked many miles and
Have seen this whole world-
Past the midnight hour I would lie motionless-
Beneath the mask I wear, are tear-filled eyes and
A blanket covers my angry heart-
People do not see beyond laughter and contentment
I was once a child who walked a different pathway
Those others have not walked before-
In this world there are many roads to travel upon,
Many mountains to climb-and many rivers to cross.,
Fear has driven my spirit away from walking in every direction –
Somewhere along the way I have chosen the wrong pathway towards finding my destiny
I am a lost soul without direction,
An angry spirit who has never known tranquility-
I would hide behind that mask now painted black,
Opaque so that my true self is indiscernible
If I could remove the darkened mask I wear and throw it to the wind
The world would see my tears fall as would a torrent of rain and
Look into my eyes and my thoughts would become their literature-
A horror story or a novel with a tragic ending-
And the pain of being stabbed in the heart with a sharpened bladed knife-
I am frozen in time- I only foresee one road upon which to travel
That is, the road to madness which is sadly all too familiar-
I stand at crossroads not knowing which direction to take in this life-
So I lie still in the darkness, hiding behind that black opaque mask-
Concealed from the world- unable to discern reality, and terrified of my surroundings.
People rarely look beyond surfaces- because of their own fears of what is real-
So they keep dancing, and laughing to their hearts’ content because
They are afraid to see the dimness on the far side of the river.
They wear their own masks with their eyes painted shut, wanting to believe
That the sky is always blue, even beyond dark clouds before a storm
Wishing to believe that a lighted candle of peace shall never burn out in time.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Aftershock
Today may be a day not to forget- although
In this moment, I don’t recall yesterday-
So many years have passed-
I was a different person then-
As I gaze out the window at the mountains
By the reservoir, casting their reflections-
Yesterday begins to suddenly return.
I recall lying still upon a metal table as
My thoughts were quickly fading
My spirit seemed to be drifting away toward some other realm.
Yesterday I was consumed by fear,
Running away from the world surrounding-I can now discern veracity and
I can now recall those years that have passed-
The changing of the seasons,
Days transforming to nights,
The crescent moon decorating the horizon as
I would wish upon a star for a glimmer of sunlight, and
For pink clouds that would never rain-
As in a summer storm my tears would fall like hail-
I lived in a different world.
Now spring rain is falling,
But there is a beauty in spring rain-so mystical and cleansing-
The raindrops that fall are truly real and
The reflections of those mountains seem not so far removed-
A feeling of renewal is passing over me.
In my mind, I am picking daffodils and roses, and I know that
This is a fantasy that can become reality-
Today is the day that I was brought back to earth
To see this planet in a different light – one with clear pathways
Upon which to run, destinations enlightened by faith and
A door is opening with a warm welcome for me alone-
I begin to smile as I proudly step over the threshold of that door.
I believe that rain helps spring flowers to grow and flourish, and
It clears the air that I breathe- I can see my own extraordinary sunlight now,
That sunlight that shines upon my own special horizon and
That sunlight that has given me another chance at life-
As long as I am walking down this road paved with hope just for me –
I shall always have that star I wished upon to illuminate the sky and to guide me-
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
A Tale of Betrayal
Those who appear beautiful on the outside
Are blessed because to others that means
That their beauty reflects the person that they are on the inside-
A warm smile reflects a warm heart, and
One can envision true love looking through the person’s eyes-
We believe that inner loveliness shines through.
I recall somebody who wore such a smile, and
Had that winning sparkle in her eyes-
Her hair was golden and I believed she
Had opened the door to her heart to let me inside.
When she held my hand I felt safe and it was a new rebirth
Her warm embrace I believed was speaking of
Her love toward me-I felt as if I was in another world.
The dark curtain dropped before my eyes
The day she ridiculed the pain I felt,
Laughed when I wept and
Rain fell upon the pathway as I followed in her footsteps-
I was slipping on water turning to ice, and falling-
And when I told her that I wanted to end my life
She lashed out and, she set my spirit on fire,
That smile she had always worn, that was the smile that had lied to me.
It has been said that “beauty is skin deep” she was an angel in disguise
Awestricken I wondered How could a person who appeared saintly and
With a voice reflecting a soul replete with devotion
Be so cruel and own the soul of a demon inside?
Years have passed and I have locked the door to my life to shut her out-
Hoping to never meet face to face with her again-
As years passed I have grown and now I know
That behind a magnificent sunset can be dark clouds of a storm approaching-
And I shall never trust my instincts again
The loveliest appearing person alive I shall not believe in-
Their infidelity that doesn’t appear can be hidden beneath a blanket of depravity.
Never have faith; never trust I say – when I look into somebody’s eyes
I shall look more deeply and look with care for what makes that smile seem real
I was only a child when I knew her-
From a heart that has not yet healed from the pain inflicted, though years have passed-
I say true beauty is more than what appears “skin deep”
And a broad smile and a gentle voice can lie, and be a dark curtain in itself.
Claudia Krizay
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
Spirits Live On
I can hear the wind outside gusting-
I can see the swaying branches on the barren trees outside,
And a foreboding clouded sky where wild geese are calling-
The skies shall darken further with the setting of the sun and
Winter will have begun once again.
I fear this time of year when the world falls into a deepening slumber-
It is the time of year when cold air can become bitter
It is the time of year when my mother passed away- Twenty two years ago.
I fear the sounds of winter- The wind fiercely whistling as it blows-
I fear winter storms where the snowfalls are heavy,
I am locked inside of my home
Fearful of the cold air outside enveloping me-
I fear the darkening of the shorter days
I have locked myself inside a world of my own
But trying to grasp onto my sanity as I struggle to abandon past memories-
My mother’s ashes were scattered at sea
Near a sunny California beach-
Although she passed away at the dawn of a bleak winter’s day
I fear that her spirit was lost when she died =
And had awakened in some strangely foreign place-
I fear the loss of my own soul and spirit as
Winter has always been such a desolate time of year
A time where all hope seemingly slips away.
I recall the day I was taken away,
And I found myself in a bleak and unfamiliar place
I had lost more than peace of mind-I had lost my grasp on reality and
I still hear my mother crying as she exited the door to this dungeon, leaving me behind.
I now feel my own tears streaming down my cheeks-
My mother’s death had been tragic-we had lost ourselves in different ways
We both left this world when trees are barren, and when the days are shortened.
As snow is beginning to fall I close my eyes and dream-
That my spirit shall awaken by my mother’s side someday after I myself die-
Where we shall both find ourselves alive in a better place
Where clear skies shall awaken us with a new rebirth-
In a place where the sun never sets and we can be happy always to be alive-
Even if we are only alive in spirit-we shall laugh, be carefree and content
It has been said that our spirits will always find joy and freedom from fear-
And our spirits shall live on eternally…
Claudia Krizay
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
ECT
In this moment I feel as if I am falling,
Into a prison from nowhere,
I see my shadow arabesque as
I watch my reflection appear
In a river of never abating madness-
Hiding from all that is real,
Moments have passed since I lay upon
A cold metal table,
Drifting off to sleep, and
Upon awakening-
I remember nothing, except for
The sensation of falling
From nowhere into nothingness-
As I watch the sun rising,
Outside of a picture window,
I find myself alive in some different place in time.
I feel my heart pounding
As is it were trying to escape
From a prison of iron bars inside of my chest, as
My brain spins about
As it were riding a horse on a merry-go –round,
It’s motor somehow
Rapidly accelerating
As that horse bobs up and down
Exacerbating my fear-
I hear myself screaming
In the midst of deadly silence-
The sun has now risen high over the mountains outside.
Within my utmost fantasies,
I am climbing my own mountain,
Hoping to reach the sky although
I cannot escape that merry-go-round of terror-
Except that I know now
I cannot hide from all that is real,
I shall never touch the sky and as
I find myself falling off of this make believe mountain-
I can see my shadow more clearly and
As I fall into a river of my fantasies,
I swim to the bank of this river from nowhere,
Leaving the madness behind-
Claudia Krizay
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
Starlight
The keys I once carried inside of my pocket
Got lost when I was walking
Towards that world everybody talks about, that is,
The world everybody lives in.
Looking upward towards the sky-
I could see many other’s shadows-alive, and
Contrasting with the clarity of the horizon.
Rainbows, sunlight and moonlight-
And the trillions of stars above
Would sometimes enlighten their universe,
While my own shadow was lost someplace
In a graveyard at the foot of the mountains-
Oh, to capture a ray of sunlight- or to grasp
Even the moonlight or that never abating starlight
Would be my fondest dream.
I would wish upon one of those stars
To grant me a life to live, if not only some peace of mind-
However the keys that would unlock the door
To the world that everyone speaks of- oh, so vast and endless-
May have been lost in my own shadows of despair.
As I wish upon that magical star-
I can close my eyes and fantasize
That someday my spirit shall pass and
I shall awaken from the lifelong nightmare through which I had lived-
I would find myself reborn amidst that brilliant and mystical star
Very much alive, far from atop those mountains scraping the sky.
I would realize that the world so many people open their eyes to every single day
Just to view some sunlight is often overshadowed by clouds, bleakness and misfortune.
While being part of a constellation of stars-
Even when my eyes are closed, there shall always
Be light shining through any dense fog that may surround me
I could find a very special key towards a fortune of my own,
Where I would be alone with nothing to fear- as I have found the kingdom of my dreams.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Harmony
The sun shall rise atop the mountains
At the break of every new day-
Through my eyes, the sun becomes a mirror- through which
I can clearly see my reflection-
My eyes sparkle as; I foresee hope for a glorious new day
Filled with adventure, bliss and tranquility-
The clouds on the horizon form random shapes as they are changing colors-
Pinks and oranges and even golden, reflecting shadows of the trees
That are dancing in the early spring’s breeze-
These clouds are not dark as are rain clouds and
On this day my eyes shed no tears- although I ask myself-
Shall this inner peace and joy
That has awakened my spirit on this day last forever?
I recall as a child I used to fear the darkness and would pray for everlasting light-
But I know now that when the sun sets, the moon will rise and the stars shall come out,
These form the magic and mysteriousness of the twilight.
I can always wish upon a star for more harmony and contentment.
Even if the stars are hidden by dark thunder clouds of misfortune,
The sun, shall shine its light upon the world again and when the rain begins to fall,
I know it is the rain that makes the trees, grasses and flowers grow and flourish-
At the break of every day I now realize that whether I witness the light at sunrise, or
If I see the rain falling hard- these are both God’s gifts of nature and
I am fortunate to be alive-
Claudia Krizay
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Suicide Watch
Yesterday I read your words Inscribed across yellow lined paper-
On a warm spring day you had planned your funeral-
I know you are alive right now alone here in your bedroom
A breeze would gently rock the branches on the trees outside-
I would peer outside the window-
Daffodils are dancing amongst the freshly grown grass,
Dew kissed roses are coming alive. I would yearn to be outside
Walking happily welcoming spring- Once both of our favorite times of year
When the world was awakening from a long winter’s nap-
I cannot leave you alone.
Sitting still on the blue velvet wing chair I watch you- you do not move.
Oh how still you lie, although with eyes wide open
Tear-filled, staring into space,
I hardly know now where I belong in this world myself-
Words inscribed across yellow lined paper-Were plans to end your life-
Your death sentence drowning in a deep depression-
The sun shines brightly on a spring day
But I know you are blind to the light.
I would yearn for you to be the mother you used to be-
As I sit still witnessing your emotional death.
I am not allowed to leave you alone-
As I watch you slowly deteriorate-
Words I have read inscribed on yellow lined paper,
Watching your tears fall as you lie motionless-
Are fate’s way of telling me if I were to step out of the door to this room-
You would take your life- and I would be to blame.
Our lives have both had its peaks and its craters-
I hardly know what life means anymore-
My flagging grasp upon reality and the loss of your will to live
Have left our futures in the bleakness of despair-
I write my own words on a torn sheet of yellow lined paper-
Begging for you to come back to me- words you may never see-
In my own way I am leaving this world to a place in the realm of my fantasies-
It is the only way I can escape seeing you in such a wretched state.
Now I can feel my own tears streaming down my cheeks as I cry “Come back to me”
In a moment of anger I throw away the letter you wrote on yellow lined paper-
Outside it is the most beautiful time of year but the darkness inside of
Your heart soul and spirit has formed a black cloud overshadowing the light-
And the sun may never rise in your world again- wherever that world may be.
Claudia Krizay
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Living in Fear
Lost in a dream world, far beyond veracity-
Seated cross-legged upon a wooden beamed floor-
I pray to the Goddess, the savior of my spirit
Fabricated in a moment, although lost and forgotten-
Now I speak only to the people who live
Beyond the mountains, purple in their hue-
Dancing beneath the magical rain falling from
The loveliness of crimson clouds-
Melodious voices ring out as they
Enchantingly obliterate the demons of my past and present-
An expressive smile creeps up upon my face-
Finally I have been liberated-
As a ghost-like shadow eradicates the light,
I feel the presence of faltering footsteps
Pounding the floors-
Loudening voices resonate throughout the confinement of this room:
Speaking the words “I am coming to take you away-“
I feel a firm grip of a stranger’s hand upon my shoulder as
A metal cuff locks about my wrist-
I feel my body somehow
Disconnected from my mind as I rise to my feet-
Moments later, locked inside the confinement
Of an unfamiliar vehicle-
Blaring sirens exacerbate my fear-
In this moment of terrifying madness
I pray to the goddess, the savior of my spirit-
Crimson clouds transforming to dank, dark fogginess-
I feel a different sort of rain falling-
I have come to realization-
That the demons of my past and present - have returned-
As my soul escapes the confinement of my mind,
Thunder claps while lightening strikes-
There is no magic beyond mountains
No place for dancing and the only voice ringing out now
Vibrant as pounding upon a base drum bellows-
“I have come - to take you away-“
Claudia Krizay
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
Revelation
It wasn’t the sunlight at dawn
That helped me find the world-
That world which captured my dreams, that is, and
That world trapped inside of my heart.
It wasn’t the stars in the midnight sky or
The full moon rising above the mountains-–
Those mountains, although as scenic and
As mesmerizing as they could be-
I remember the day I had lost faith in myself and then
That day I found that special rainbow-
Its contrasting colors I could feel summoning me,
Then welcoming me into a different place in time,
Sunsets can appear to be extraordinary, as
Can be the moon in all of its fullness-
But it was the forceful colors of that special rainbow
That unlocked the door to my mind-
Now I can say all of my tears have vanished
Since that magical rainbow appeared, dried my tears, and then
Mysteriously made my heart come alive-
I had never believed in miracles although in these special moments
I am finding myself rejoicing as I step over fallen trees and branches.
I look upward towards that colorful and cloudless sky-enlightened by the sun
So thankful that it helped me find that once lost spirit of life hidden inside of me,
Which after years of feeling a sense of worthlessness inside of my heart and soul,-
Has given my life a new meaning, and has become my eternal guiding light.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Life
It has often been asked- what is the meaning of life?
It hardly matters or defines
What has generally been said everybody should believe,
As life is what each individual makes it to be.
It isn’t about fame and fortune for all,
It isn’t all about being beautiful
It isn’t about popularity, or
Playing and winning many games.
Some believe that life is a game
Because everybody is striving to succeed-
Others do not take life seriously and
To them, life is none but comical.
My own life has been a journey
A difficult one at that-
Nearly half a century ago I left this world
And found repose in my dreams.
Some would say my life is a fantasy and
Life is only about reality-
I believe that life is what one makes it to be, and
Whatever it takes to find happiness.
My father believed life is about fortune-
My mother believed in life people should strive for perfection.
I spent years looking for that fortune
Trying to appear perfect in the eyes of my peers-
I have chased the real world away
Trying to find what life truly means to me-
Hearing voices only I can hear and
Drifting away into those miraculous castles in the sky-
In this life inside of my imaginings
I have found my peace, hope and escape from all that I fear.
It doesn’t matter that so many argue that this is not reality.
Because this is my life that I have created for myself.
This is the life that brings me peace of mind.
It is the life that magically brings me amazing visions.
This is the life which brings me joy and promise-
And that is what life means to me
To me it doesn’t matter what is or isn’t real.
When I lose myself inside the world of my dreams,
I find I am truly alive and have found my happiness-
As it has always been said, “to each is own”
What brings contentment to one person
May not affect or bring joy to another
Life’s meaning is in the eyes of the beholder and
Everyone has different reasons for living.
Claudia Krizay
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC