The Broken Life
By: Kinga Sanford
Copyright 2011 Kinga Sanford
Smashwords Edition
This book is a compilation of poems bound by a personal and “confessional” nature. Some of them come from the depths of darkness while others are just unleashed reflections. In these unpretentious poems I have found the closure I needed for the inconclusive years of my life. My mind has been sore from soaking in details and overanalyzing memories, but pen in hand is how I have exposed my own demons. I wish to make this collection available to anyone who can connect and/or find some comfort in it, or who simply enjoys poetry and the terrible beauty of words.
********************
Contradiction
When the abscess clears it reveals
A heart that has wandered off,
A cavity in her chest
Hollow, like an empty tomb
But the monster lives within,
Condemns her to lie by omission.
Her inquisitive mind is habitually
Dismayed by what pulls forward
She loves in circles
And always comes back to him
With earth-kissing footsteps
Back to the roots
An old government of flowers
Pulled out by the stems.
********************
My planet revolves,
Oscillating around demise in an orbit of mirth.
Straying through occasional wormholes
Its gravity braces me
Though I yearn to be weightless
Among coiled galaxies of fallen stars.
A universe unfolds amidst blackholes,
Its piercing beauty comes
From the proximity of danger.
I know you are out there,
Under the same blanket of space
Crawl out from your hiding places
Into the stifling atmosphere
That your company shall make it bearable.
********************
Rebirth
Are you the continuation of my own existence?
A second chance that God has deigned to give me?
That within all my failures
Something can still be salvaged
And the narrow path that was
Forced upon me
Can now lead to new places,
The places I had briefly contemplated
In the past
And in my dreams,
But in my present unattainable.
Could I attempt to redeem myself?
Something faint like a premonition
Grazes my senses
It cannot by undone or redone.
I shall continue to walk my
Narrow path and woefully
Watch as your paths get smaller.
As I slowly dilute and dissolve in time
I feel the impotence
And desperately cling to the dregs
Of the child who once lived in me.
********************
Seek out the mother in me and restore it
For I’m falling disenchanted
Through the cracks and crevices
Where light can’t reach me
A womb that was once fruitful
Is now barren and soon I’ll be unfound
A life given for a life taken
An omnificent touch of little hands and feet…
This will heal me,
The boundless love which can
Press heavily against the rewards of silence
A taciturn existence,
A passing moment,
The choices made and promises kept,
What I am capable of;
It soothes me.
The comfort of toys.
You will arrive flowing and undemanding
As music does to my hearing
I am the Mother.
********************
The Killers
There was an unclear betrayal
On both parts
The result of obsession
Perhaps.
Who’s to blame?
We sprinkled hurt
And tainted the innocent
Now I guard my thoughts
Of intimacy
Do I ever cross your mind?
Do we unite in thought?
After our last communion
I put a lid on my faith
With a topping of dirt.
At times I searched
For the source of our goodbye…
I never found it.
There are bruises
From hurtful words
And the intense vividness
Of flashbacks.
********************
The Path to Nowhere
I have moved aimlessly
Through the years
Bound by promises
Of an elusive future
Wherever I’ve gone
Only my shadow followed
Fiercely
My dreams went missing
They are now colorless
And fueled by memories alone
I will release them
And trade them in for simplicity
I catch a glimpse of my past
And feel a fervent desire
To go back
Start over
Fill the gaps
But instead, I drive away
To the tune of rush hour traffic
The sirens are wailing for me.
********************
Things
The endlessly dead are timeless
In their uncomplicated ways and you,
You smooth out the edges of living,
Think the unsayable,
You don’t feel the limitless,
It circles around you, hovering
Like a dark cloud that will be
Bursting soon and still,
You don’t feel it.
So you look around at the lovely things
And their permanency
Because they’re not going anywhere
And even if their staying power failed
They will always be
Replaceable.
********************
The Journey
You remember when you used to
push the thoughts into their heads
And chase the tears out of their eyes…
Now the teddy bears and lullabies are gone,
With the unnoticeable but steady
Arrival of the future that brings you
Effortlessly and constantly
To each other’s boundaries.
Like neighboring countries you can’t break away
From your borders,
But there was once an in-between space
That you can’t grasp anymore,
It grew out of reach
Or blended with the horizon
And took them with it.
The past is delivered in dreams.
It sunk into earth like a seed
And harvested future, an undesirable crop,
But in the wake of this unstoppable calamity
You will nurture the realization
That they were never yours,
For this is how the world works,
As easily as a bird permeates the air
You soar unwillingly into the depths of time
And live in it,
Like the notes in a song or the words in a poem
And you are home,
With a white flag above your door,
You have surrendered and so have they.
They were borrowed and he claims them back.
The descent to a place where
The dimness of your sorrows darkens your spirit
Is inevitable, and
Since strength has become an evasive ally,
You will be dragged the rest of the way
To the finish line.
********************
Breakup
Lay in the bathtub
Full of water
Body slightly floating
No weight, no burden
Can’t see through the water
Foam covers the tub
The lightness of an illusion
Drain the water
Watch it disappear
Fast and helplessly
The truth starts
To show up
I can see it now
The bottom of the tub
My scarred naked body
Reality uncovered
From floating to falling
The weight pushes down
Pushes down
Against hard bottom
All is lost, all is gone.
********************
Wistful
Images came and went
Through my head.
For a moment,
I was surrounded by
A beautiful recollection
Of fabricated memories.
Then my retention faded,
Bleached by time
It is now blurred and distant
Almost imperceptible.
The fleeting thoughts
Have escaped me
And I am crippled by this.
I searched through the vacant alleys
In my brain,
Dwelled on it…
And so it came to pass
That I subsided
To a piece of diseased flesh
And now I sit here
Like a signature on a voided check,
Unfulfilling,
Futile.
********************
All that is gone is not lost
It inhabits the air,
If not a body.
Are we defined
By a pulsing heart?
Nothing is certain
A creature succumbs
To the underworld,
Defeated
And permeates the earth.
An unfortunate girl
Is broken
Takes one last breath
And perishes.
This is all we see
Are we really confined
To this filthy,
Defective existence?
We need to believe
Perfection is out there,
Waiting to be found
And embraced
Because all that is gone is not lost.
All that stays is lost.
********************
Dire Wedding
The groom waits by the altar
As she walks down the aisle
Her stealthy footsteps are ominous
But nobody seems to notice
She’s a pale and slender bride
She’s the untouchable
But she touches all
It is an oneiric wedding
But there will be
An undesired honeymoon
Meanwhile he stands there
His soul held tight against
His body, sheltered
But like ripening fruit
His time will come
He is ahead of the parting
The lovemaking…
He is worn out
In the final throws
She snatches the warmth
Out of his body
The unlived moments flash by him.
********************
For years the thoughts withered away
In this land of sand and beaches
Tourists so unaware and easily seduced
Words come as hints
But serve no purpose when unused
It seems all that matters is the Weather
And the arrogant Landscape
So confident almost menacing
It closes up on its people
Convincing them of their good fortune
Wrenching what’s meaningful
Into its shallow roads and vanishing
In the humidity like a plague
The streets overflow with lust
And contempt
In actuality, a dreadful scenery.
********************
Immaculate boy
Whose innocence remains untouched
Time elapses flawlessly
Without distortions
In the spotless mind of this baby,
Humble in its purity
Yet awaiting conversion
Into its future self;
Complex in nature,
The intricacies which will
Stay unknown and
Span from boy to man
Traveling from sublime to worldly
And slowly disappearing
Into the turbulence
Adorned by commotion.
Growing up is a deceptive task.
********************
The comfort of the ordinary
Or the magnificence of the extraordinary?
There is a truth to be said
The dead poet lives on
Through his readers
As does the artist
Even if they died by their own hand.
How unbearable is the briefness of being?
As for the rest of us
There will be no films
No biographies
Nothing was created
That influenced a living soul
Nobody got lost in these pages
Or found themselves
Among our words
We fought wars against the mirror
And lived in penance
Thus, we will die uninteresting
Unremembered
As a curse for allowing ourselves
To settle for the ordinary.
********************
The mere name by which we define them
Prevents them from the limitless
They are grounded in the measurable,
Constantly straining
Daring to pierce the surface
Streaming upwards
Attempting always unsuccessfully.
They breathe the same air
But there is the remote enmity
Of the unspeakable differences,
The unanswered questions
That revolve around their equanimity
Arriving at an unfathomable
Lack of answers.
A small universe bends upon them
Lost children of sullen destinies
Their shell shall break open soon
And they will but vaguely remember
Having transcended this space
Lavish of grief
They will rest above it.
********************
These are stories of strangers
Unknown to us yet so familiar
In them we find comfort and solace
They fill us with the warmness
Of shared feelings
That once existed in someone else
Besides us,
That someone felt what we felt
Or thought what we thought or
Perhaps even lived what we lived…
We reach inside, confused
Believing we do not seek approval
When indeed we do.
We are not as independent in suffering
Yes, we need validation.
Misery loves company they say
I say that mutual feelings
Cancel each other
Creating harmony
Even if it is just a story
It is proof, though minuscule,
That somewhere out there
A stranger is linked to us.
********************
Third World Dreams
She wanders the streets
In yesterday’s clothes,
stares at the pavement as if it will split open
And lose her problems.
The streets are overwhelmed with predicaments
So they’ve started to crack.
A man pulls up in a Mercedes and asks to buy a rose from her.
As he lowers the window, his world becomes evident to her
And for a moment, as they exchange words,
they share a place in the world.
She wonders if he has a wife and family…
But then he hands her the rose with a smile.
As he closes the window she begins to see her reflection,
It transports her back to her world. She looks at the rose
And sits down on the curb, in exile as
The Mercedes drives off leaving one tiny crack on her street.
********************
Alanna smiles
And the world stops for her
She erases time
Her laughter outshines the sun
It was her smile
That chased away my sadness
She opens her eyes
And the night dissolves
Look at her
She numbs reality
This is her world
When the earth is crying
Alanna brings out the rainbow
The day she was born
I tied a ribbon around my life
And gave it to her.
********************
Compunction
Years ago I made a decision
I judged a man by his actions;
One can’t see a person’s heart
Our paths led nowhere
Danger was imminent
I must always protect her
She will never see the things I saw
She is safe now
That’s all that matters to me.
We move on.
One day I will be judged
Humans are not supposed to play God.
********************
Emptiness
Faces in the crowd
Blank faces
With no expression
Drift through the streets
All strangers to each other
The strangers gather
But their blank faces
Cover nothing but emptiness
They don’t know this
They were never told
They were never told
That nothingness and emptiness
Take the form of human beings.
********************
Gone
A form of life
A body within a body
A being within a being
Creation
A miracle
The mind goes
So much faster
Travels through time
Goes to the past
Goes to the future
It stops in the present
The future it had seen
Would never be
The body within my body
The being within me
Was gone
From form of life
To thin air
Destruction
An abomination.
********************
Leaving Colombia (sestina)
Among fire guns and bombs was born a dream
When the helicopter landed that day
On the field, in awe and terror our eyes
Stared at it screaming, running, crying
And then the stunning, deafening silence
That comes after panic as a dim light
Made its way through the darkness until daylight
Reigned. On that very moment rose a dream
Inside us. Protected by walls of silence,
Hidden, unknowingly shared. Hoping for the day
When our hearts and souls would stop crying
For help because tears no longer flooded our eyes
And our minds, clean with calmness would set our eyes
On landscapes of peaceful stillness where the lightness
Of tranquility replaced the burden of crying
Every minute. As of me, I nurtured my dream
As it all got worse. Irene’s dad was killed one day,
Next: our friends kidnapped. I bled in silence…
They were after my father… and me. The silence
After each phone call let our eyes
Say everything. Father had to run away one day
On an evening with no stars and no light;
We couldn’t see his face for the last time. My dream?
Was still alive I suppose, even as I cried
Utterly in pain for I was next, and crying
I left too, with no words to be said, in silence,
In search of something greater: my dream,
But when I arrived at the airport my eyes
Shed tears again as I stood alone under the light
Of a small room, put aside, released a few days
Later, my whole baggage broken and torn. That day
I realized what demons would make me cry
Now, and they still do, but there’s a light
Far away as there always is, that in silence
Brings forth the chance of something greater to my eyes
And the possibility of reaching my dreams.
I’m living my dream, and mother’s cries
Fill her eyes with tears as in silence
Pain one day became illness that’ll turn off her light.
********************
Left Behind
I just saw life drive by in a truck
But I was walking
On the side of the road
I tried to catch up
Ran as fast as I could
I was close
I grabbed onto it
Hung in there for a while
Until my tired body
Had to let go
And I fell on the road again
Once again
And saw life drive past me
And leave me behind
One more time
I sat on the sidewalk
As I watched the distance grow
And from the low, cold regions of oblivion
I saw the world of those
Who rode in the truck.
********************
Left Behind (Part II)
Some of us
Just live on the side of the road
As passers by
Walkers not riders
Whose paths are exhausting
And whose bodies keep giving up
The road is rough
Struggle not to get run over
But sometimes
Stand there
Hoping to get run over
End the misery
Dream of riding in the truck
Or dreams of death
Of stillness and rest
Of finishing the journey.
********************
Nebraska
I miss the sunken gardens
My fragmented spirit
Always found comfort there
I miss the rainless, dry air
And in the winter,
The smell of snow.
It was
The place of newfound freedom
And a whole new set of mistakes
Condoning the deterioration
Of my mental health
Those were the unwritten pages
Haunted by ghosts of the past
Sundering into loss
And then
Emanating hope with conception;
A new beginning
Exported me unharmed.
********************
Tears and Blood
I lay down
My body is trembling
Something inside me hurts
I don’t know what it is
Why does it hurt so bad?
Is it my heart or my brain?
No, it’s everything
Everything hurts
I cry and cry
Buy crying no longer
Alleviates the pain
I get up
Walk to the kitchen
Grab a knife
Cut through flesh
Kill the pain
Covered in tears and blood
The only way to kill pain
Is with pain itself.
********************
The Lost Hours
All those times he was outside
With a cigarette in his hand
The smoke swirling around him in shapes
A barrier of air
Between us.
All the times she was in her room playing
All by herself
I could’ve joined her
Housework was not more important than them.
If I would’ve known
That death is not just a noun
And dead is not just an adjective
I never would’ve wasted a minute
Not a single minute
But I wasted hours
And they are the lost hours
That will never come back.
********************
A journey
Of loving pain
A set of miracles
Put together
A challenge
To the heart
How will so much love
Fit in it?
And yet, it does
It fits perfectly
In the infinite
Ever-growing heart
Of a mother
A yawn…
Then a smile
That becomes laughter
First steps
First words
A challenge
To the mind
How to remember
Forever
How to keep
The greatest treasure
Known to her;
Memories
Rose cheeks
Dark hair
My first kiss
The day I met
The love of my life
Things change
Life takes you places
An ever-changing world
One thing
Remains intact.
********************
To My Father
I chose to forget
Because so much pain
Made me uncomfortable
Death didn’t seem real before
It seemed far away
From me
Untouchable
I thought death
Couldn’t reach us
There was so much tragedy
In our family
I thought
At least
We remain
Untouched
By death
And then
You died
Suddenly
Fast and inevitable
Death
Illness…
I chose to forget
How illness
Took the man
You once were
Consumed your body
And reduced you…
Reduced you
And took you,
Snatched you from us
Even as we tried
To hang on to you
Desperately
I chose to forget
But I failed
How could I forget you,
Your sacrifices
A lifetime of hard work
I see them
Much clearer now
And you had big plans
For me
I let you down
Over and over again
You still loved me
Always forgiving
Always loving
To the last day
Confused and incoherent
You managed
To mumble my name
You loved me
And I chose to forget
But I can’t
I’ve given in
I have to remember you
As painful
And agonizing
As it may be
I have to remember you
I miss you so much
It’s been 2 years
They tell me
Time heals all wounds
But the more time
Goes by
I miss you more
I want to see you
At least one more time
Memories are getting faint
I want to remember
Remember you
Always.
********************
I cannot write for you
Because happiness is not inspirational
Only dark thoughts
Bring out my words
Distress is eloquent
And it is the language of writers
Only in pain
Can we see the real world
Like that musician you told me about
(I can’t remember his name)
Who said:
I’m not depressed
I’m enjoying my depression
I cannot write for you
Because you are my happiness
What could I say about you
You are the most beautiful dream
And it seems like I dreamt you
And brought you to life
And then you found me
My long lost dream
A little girl’s dream
Of perfect love
For many years seemingly impossible
Unattainable
Surreal
But you found me
And that is all I can say
Because forever is short
To enjoy a dream like you.
********************
These days I’m a slave of time
There’s no recess anymore…
No coffee breaks…
Life doesn’t give you a break
And the deadline is now
The deadline is always now
Who knows when your time’s up
It may catch me by surprise
When my time’s up
Will I leave behind an unfinished life?
Ambitions grow faster than weeds
And there are no extensions
To meet my deadline
Each passing day, month, year
Seems like a bonus
I feel almost like a prisoner
On death row
But perhaps I’m already dead
Inside
Who killed me?
What killed me?
I’ll probably never know
I may have done it myself
With my own bare hands
Every step I took
Brought me here somehow
Is this where I was headed
Or did I take a wrong turn
How will I ever know?
I re-live moments in my mind
And wonder
If that was the moment
That would’ve made a difference
But I don’t know
And will never know
Maybe this is what was meant for me
And I had no say
And no choice
I was just given time
Maybe a little time
Or a long time
But I am a slave of it.
********************
Upside Down
We are not surprised anymore
That our world
Seems upside down
The richest are the greediest
And money is the measurement
For success
Happiness nowadays can be
Easily bought
Thieves run entire countries
And we are not surprised
Apparently evolution
Took away something we didn’t need;
A conscience
Our pinky finger could be next
Countries are closing the borders
Because they can’t share success
With others
Families are torn apart
For the cause
But we are not surprised
This is the world we live in
And most people seem ok
With it
But our world is upside down
Unless I walk on my hands.
********************
The Sound of Love
A profound, deafening silence
sprawls out in winter times,
only echoes of breath are heard
and memories of enchanting chimes
Branches of night scatter all over
as loneliness saturates air,
yearning hearts feeling gloomy
moan in the verge of despair
Dejected by such dreariness,
a soft and sudden voice then spoke;
lavender hues lighted the heavens,
as the voice of love said there was hope
New wind pregnant of voices,
stirred by hisses of faith
restores spirits and souls,
in times when hardships invade.
********************
That building
Guards all our childhood memories
Inside its solid brick walls
It contains the times when
Eternal optimism overrode reality
I always looked at it
With admiration
With that sense of pride
Because my grandfather built it for us
It seemed to be proof
That you can do anything
But maybe I was detached from reality
Or maybe I was just a child
Yet I still don’t understand
How they can let go
I can’t
A broken childhood
Needs a strong building
To keep it from shattering
My innocent beliefs.
********************
I am a child of the universe
I am alone
I’ve been abandoned
Love me
And I’ll be faithful
Take me
And I’ll follow you
Give me a chance
To wait by the door
Every day.
If I could talk I’d say
Forget the broken tail
I want a real life
I am a fighter
I will survive.
Endurance has taken me far
I’ve become tractable
My path is your path
Follow the rules.
I’m unconditional
Our lives are bound together
Don’t ever let go.
********************
I am a fairy
But I dream of faded stars
My fire is dying
Yet ashes linger
I live by inertia.
I stand fearless in the rain
My voice is thunder
My heart is clouded
If only a ray of sunshine
Would kiss me in the forehead
Then the sun
Would lubricate my thoughts.
The seventh day will be here
And I shall rest…
Don’t stare at a blank page
Turn my broken dreams
Into a fairytale.
********************
Alanna
Sunlight on her face
And she opens her eyes,
Touches me
Her hand feels like a petal
Morning is good
It’s the beginning
The grass is covered with dew
Gentle as teardrops
But tears don’t suit her
I hope she stays this way
When I think of death I miss her
Our mortality hangs over us
I could never leave her
I take pictures out of fear
And a desperate attempt to hold onto her
If tomorrow is a dream away
If the dream never comes
Gets lost in a foggy night
Will she remember me
I’m not usually in the pictures
I’ll be a ghost in a quiet photo
Only half-smiling
Will she remember my words then
The night approaches
Moonlight on her face
And she closes her eyes
She will get her dream
My girl of half-blood
My love will not remain unsaid.
********************
Family Verities
Four women
Claim that love
Skips a generation
The skeleton of a family
Uncovered
It is not uncommon
To search inside
And find a barren heart
Though none of us
Understand why.
********************
My secrets hang within the air
Like a mist, thick as frosting
My eyes try to find them,
Bring them back to me.
When I talk to myself
My voice calls for them
Echoed by my conviction;
I’ve always known
That words will set me free
Perhaps if I write them into a poem
I’ll bury them one day.
********************
Hurricane
This is the way things are
Every year we all sink down
To the same level
Caged in our plywood prisons
Deprived of light, food and water
Listening to the wind’s mocking chants
Chants of victory upon us
We surrender
And go into hiding
Fearful of its devilish ways
Entrapment suits some;
A well deserved punishment
Night and day blend
Under the blanket of gray skies
The languid trees
Are tired of their ominous dance
When will it be over?
A few days into it
And boredom has taken over
Later bordering insanity
But soon the storm will pass
And if we’re lucky
We will just wake up
To a labyrinth of fallen trees
From which we will find our way out
Slowly.
********************
That night I will sit here
Unpresent in mind
Physically unattending
But in the hypocrisy of being,
Though I remain misunderstood
My mind is with you.
********************
My eyes will tell you stories
Of a life that was lost and found
I needed a shoulder to lean on
Like the tired skies lean over the horizon
Time cannot erase my stories
But you fought away all my fears
With your little hands
Onlookers can be amazed
That your little shoulder
Has cradled me through the years.
The clock ticks endlessly
In my prison without bars
The day is tedious and slow
I think about you
And write about you
So I can keep you closer
At the end of this long day
I will finally see you
With a big smile, it
Stops my heart’s corrosion
The dreadful day gnaws at it
But you make it all better
I’m not a castaway anymore
I will spill out my love
And let it be aired.
********************
The Day You Left
It was morning
I was the first one to get up
Silence unbroken yet
Then you got up
And went to the bathroom
Leaving a trail of bitter air behind you
Perfumes of death
An unwelcome being
The cancerous days
Were better than that day.
I heard mother scream
Her unrelenting sobs
Floated down the corridor
Smothering like a vapor,
Salty from tears
I wrung my hands
And walked towards you
Unknowingly walking over
Broken dreams
Aching in suffocation
Though it was cold in January
I continued walking,
Walking on eggshells
Until I saw you
I pled with my mind
This wasn’t happening
Whispered prayers filled the room
Your essence was still there.
The darkest hour arrives
Because we have lost,
I can’t feel your presence anymore
But it shall appear elsewhere
As I throw flecks of ash into the wind.
********************
When the Earth Called
I remember the trees
From when the earth called for me
And I’d listen
And climb up to my throne;
The highest tree.
With fall after fall
Came the scars
But no broken bones
And the earth still called
And I’d still listen.
The minutes escaped me back then
Now they dawdle.
I used to like
Being around the birds
Once, I found a wood pigeon
She was hurt
So I took her home in a box
To cure her
But she died the next day
Found her on her back
Chest sticking out – proud.
After that I decided
To pick mangoes instead
And seeds.
Slowly I was being introduced
To the world
And when I was done
The earth stopped calling.
********************
The weekends were mine,
A two hour trip on Saturday
Followed by a sunny
Afternoon of tennis
And he was mine.
Crusted with red clay and sweat
My platonic love reigned
The crowded courts.
The sun burned passionately
On his darkened skin
And I claim it was for me
Win or lose
I always looked one way;
His way
Even as the crowd followed
The ball from side to side.
I give him back those three years
With the life we never had
Fourteen years will pass
Until his memories start falling out
one by one.
********************
Illusions
His voice descends unbroken
And my ears recognize it
I fall asleep to it
And wake up to it
He is singing to me now
Does he remember me
From my daydreams, I wonder
My heart rises to the occasion
Seeking to be reinvented
I accept an old truth
And lunge into the shadows
My head wrangling
I must reach him, I think
The music has stopped
I forget the denials in my head
And find the light
It whitens my face and his
Suddenly I remember
The familiarity of that moment
Though there never was
Such a moment
I will fall asleep so it can happen
And wake up to find out
It never happened.
********************
Valley of Tears
I breathe the damp, moist air,
As the sun burns on my skin,
And the touch of the subtle breeze
Refreshes my tired body.
I look up and see the mountain peeks,
Where green meets white,
Where life meets death,
An endless crowd of faceless bodies
Stare at me,
No words, no movement,
Only the painful stillness of death.
A leaf falls from a tree
As the breeze becomes a wind full of rage
That strikes and takes off,
Leaving no trace…
But the wind didn’t do this,
There’s no evil in nature,
Evil lives in men’s hearts and brains.
People are starting to come,
A black woman passes by selling chontaduros,
She sets them down
And covers her mouth with her hand
Letting out a small cry.
I hear people talking,
I walk away from them,
Walk towards the river.
The once crystal clear water
Has become stained with blood,
And the once “valley of smiles”
Is now a valley of tears.
********************
Waiting
The still pond
Of tears made
Is my warm bed
Where I lie and wait
As I wait
Sudden storms
Strike and break
The stillness
The wind breaks
My bed into
Troubled waves
And twisted thoughts
Plague my mind;
Torments of anxiety
That silence
And loneliness
Bring forth
And my bed grows
Larger as it nurtures itself
From my tears
And I wait
I wait my dear
I wait for you.
********************
Seclusion
The proximity of sadness and failure
Brings me here again,
Pencil in hand,
Face down,
Replacing a warm body
With a collection of beautiful words,
Fighting my incompatibility with the world
With a piece of paper,
Seeking refuge in language
And hiding behind pages
That don’t belong anywhere.
But in this obscure display of misfit pages
Is where I fit in,
The easiest relationship of all.
I tire of doing what’s expected of me
And happily retreat to indulge
In the pleasure of friendlessness and alienation,
So my bold insecurities can
Come out of hiding and finally feel
Comfortably at home.
********************
Compromise
I take the lows with a grain of salt
And hang between animosity and continuity,
With occasional tenderness
Or a guarded smile in disguise.
Don’t get too comfortable I say to myself,
As comfort is a vice
That will enslave you.
I try to retain the clarity
That comes from distress
And overall uneasiness.
So what is this game we play?
I know the answers to my questions
But in my madness I continue to ask,
Hoping to get a different answer…
Is that what love is?
At times it feels like a lost feeling
From my past
And at times it feels more like
Melancholy.
My eyes leak in patterns
That repeat themselves
And in the end,
When the flood finally dries out
I find myself
In the same corner.
I take in every couple’s sadness as my own.
********************
Annie
I.
“She” was born in front of a plate
In a round table.
Three pairs of incriminating eyes
Were accidental witnesses
But seemed unaware of what was happening.
Three pairs of eyes backed by a nation
Of people whose plate was half full.
Mine was half empty.
II.
Counting pieces, counting bites
Adding in my head,
But mostly subtracting,
I gave “Her” a childhood.
If “She” was a good girl
“She” could play on the scale.
III.
If I’d forget about “Her”
There was a whole country to remind me.
I couldn’t leave “Her”.
The teenage years were hard
So “She” curled up between
My stomach and my heart.
IV.
“She” eventually died unnoticed
in an airport, after my 18th birthday.
I knew it, but got on that plane
And didn’t look back.
“Her” lifeless remains
Could stay there
With her people.
V.
Months passed until I noticed
The bitter seed that had been planted.
I was infected.
“She” would always be with me.
I coerce her into hiding at times
But I am still rotten inside.
********************
The Teacher
And who, among the pretenders
Might notice me -an unchosen one
With damaged thoughts?
And if they were to remove
The sour prefix from the word,
Would that be enough?
Will I ever cease to want more?
I regard their effortless smiles,
No one speaks of the unselected,
The forgotten, the departed…
So I take what I can get,
And press it warmly against my heart,
I absorb my smallest victory
And elide the believable pretense
Of what it stands for.
This he gave to me:
Permission to dream freely.
********************
Trade-In
I’ve come to embrace
this sensation like I own it.
It has evolved from hunger
To vacancy.
Under my care
It became an opening.
The walls of my
Abandoned stomach
Have parted
In a most welcoming way
So the rest of my insides
Can freely inhabit it,
Filling the void
Within this unoccupied space.
I feed myself thoughts
Rather than meals
And it nourishes my sick
Perception.
My jaded consciousness
Has impaired my reasoning
And the reigning substitute
Is a hint of self-worth
At a steep price.
********************
Faith
Takers and leavers,
Great thinkers…
Who are you the modern outcasts?
Your predicament starts within.
You build a path with sacrifice and penance,
To a brick wall where
The stairway to heaven was supposed to be.
All the unnecessary growing pains
Come to a leaderless revolution
Of the psyche,
Not so submissive anymore,
Drowned in waves of what ifs,
The regrets pouring unleashed.
And the afterlife –unreal?
Making a living got in the way of living,
Now your fate is sealed
In an envelope with no return address
To be delivered to your destiny.
********************
Metamorphosis
We were seekers of truth
Wanting to know everything
Hungry for life
Despising sleep; a waste of time
Not afraid to be happy.
As a child
I delighted in the
Sweet taste of candy.
When did I discover
The bitter taste of coffee?
And loving sleep
Because it kills time?
If I try really hard
To remember
What I used to be
I may feel
Remnants of joy
I will dance
When nobody’s watching
And put more sugar
In my black bitter coffee
That somehow
I find appealing.
********************
Behind Hospital Walls
It’s been six years and two babies since that young girl
walked into that hospital bleeding painfully.
She was nobody’s daughter, nobody’s sister.
She was me, but I am not her. I am the one who walked out of there
cradling nothing more than an empty womb,
my own cries the only lullaby I would hear for two years.
I know her secrets though, because they haunt me…
the memories of a fractured life, an unfathomable mind,
all the things unsaid:
That the baby died of starvation because she didn’t eat for three weeks.
That although it was an accident and she was scared, she wanted to keep it.
That they handed her a jar with the “remains” and she lost it,
she never buried it or went to the chapel like she was told,
she doesn’t remember why; her grasp of sanity so negligible.
That her imagination magnified the pain but her feelings were unfeigned.
That her eyes under soft lids did cry but she wore waterproof mascara.
Now, her confessions mean nothing as life unfolds
in palpable emptiness, because creation is a miracle and our own
destruction an abomination… and then there’s the hospital,
the place where life begins and ends, its pale walls like witnesses
have seen it all and they know our stories.
********************
Grandfathers
I always thought old age came with the smell of baby oil
And watery eyes. I took it your working years
Gave you that tired look, you weren’t tired of life yet,
The falling years kept missing you.
Eight hours away… Another city, another world, another you…
We believe what we want to believe. Some struggle to remember,
Some struggle to forget. Your hands betrayed you,
Or did you betray me? A priest came in
And grandma said: What does he need to confess,
He never leaves this room. Your hands were not to blame,
I refused to see you until you were dead.
I struggled to forget, and then, I struggled to remember
That eight hours away no confession was needed
And the watery eyes were not cloudy but clear.
********************
Pushing Toward Perfection
I look down at the pile of wrinkled shirts and take one.
I stretch it across the table and spray it with starch,
Watching as it penetrates the fabric
And disappears to another world,
As do the wrinkles when I push the iron over them,
Like smoothing away my own imperfections.
I smell the heat coming out of the iron
And feel the texture of the shirt as it gets stiff,
Stronger, so it can face the day.
The steam forms a sheer curtain in front of me
Right before vanishing in the air
And then I lift the shirt, as a work of art
It boasts of its newfound perfection,
So I grab the iron, move on to the next one
and continue pushing toward perfection.
********************
Truth must not be Forgotten
Untouched, unheard, unseen I cry
Scorned, forgotten, pushed away
By beautiful lies I’ve been outshone.
I only live in people’s minds
Not on their lips and what they say
Untouched, unheard, unseen I cry.
Ignored, rejected, put aside
I now emerge bathed in dismay
By beautiful lies I’ve been outshone.
The path will twist for humankind
They’ve made their world become inane
Untouched, unheard, unseen I cry
He who invented the lie
Has killed true beauty, has my disdain
By beautiful lies I’ve been outshone.
I am the truth, reality, filter of beauty
My power slowly fades
Untouched, unheard, unseen I cry
By beautiful lies I’ve been outshone.
********************
I am not Real
I used to want to be somebody,
But I’ve never been anybody,
And never will be.
I don’t exist.
I’m not the baby
That mother gave birth to;
I don’t even remember that.
I’m not the kid who went to grade school
She spoke a different language,
I’m not the girl you saw on T.V.
She was always happy,
Most of the time I’m not happy.
I’m not the one who fled Colombia
In tears and full of hope;
I don’t dream or hope for the future.
I’m not the girl who began school last year;
She didn’t know where her parents were,
I know where my parents are.
I’m not the person who was in the hospital last summer;
She wanted to die,
I want to live.
And I’m not the one who went to bed
Last night after writing this poem.
For now, I’m just the person
Reading this poem to you,
And I’m only what each of you think of me
Because with every second that goes by,
A new person inhabits this body,
With new thoughts, new ideas, new beliefs.
Never the same.
I don’t exist, I am nobody.
I’m not my actions,
For I’ll think something
And do the opposite.
I’m not my body,
For it’s just a suit,
Not even mine to keep.
I’m not my thoughts,
For they constantly change.
The essence of who I am does not exist in our reality.
********************
Tears Lie
Our co-worker Bruno
Was shot and killed
Most people didn’t like him
When he was alive,
Now they all praise him,
It’s one big lie,
I looked at their faces,
They were all crying
Monica was crying
Tears of guilt
Because Bruno
Didn’t want to go
To the interview
And she forced him to,
She was his boss.
She cried because she felt guilty.
Sarita was crying
Tears of fear.
She was a lot like him;
She said what she thought,
She could get killed too.
She cried because she was scared.
Juliana was crying
Tears of confusion.
She was so young
And didn’t know
What she was getting into.
She cried because she was confused.
His family was also there,
Many of them crying as well,
But God knows most of them
Were already planning
On the division of assets
And dreaming of a good
Chunk of inheritance.
I must also mention
The people who were hired
To go to the funeral and cry
Because the event was going
To be shown on television.
These wailers were to give
The funeral a more dramatic touch.
And I was there too,
But I wasn’t crying.
I remembered how he once told me
That tears lie, as selfishly,
People cry but for themselves,
And they cry for the wrong reasons.
So in the eternal hypocrisy
Of a funeral
I remembered and honored
Bruno with not a single tear.
I smiled as his memories came to my mind.