tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83133946362567476692023-11-16T07:18:51.553-08:00In The Bloomas fragile as a breeze as a touch is to me....
<a href="http://www.myfreecopyright.com/registered_mcn/WDL5M-2CL7N-PD1AF" title="MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected"><img src="http://storage.myfreecopyright.com/mfc_protected.png" alt="MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected" title="MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected" width="145px" height="38px" border="0"></a>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-783184294881055452020-12-03T19:11:00.001-08:002020-12-03T19:11:45.724-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
what you don't run<br />
what you don't fight back<br />
what you don't call the cops<br />
what you don't leave this flop<br />
what is wrong with this picture<br />
<br />
the one that wrongs<br />
is the one thats right<br />
in the eyes of police<br />
he will tell them your the fight<br />
in the eyes if you have family<br />
they think you are the one or perhaps they know he is a monster<br />
and so they are as scared to run as you are scared to stay or go<br />
he tells you if you say a word<br />
he will kill your family<br />
one by one<br />
<br />
He shows you his portfolio<br />
as the weeks turn into years<br />
a fellow turned upside down<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #794d17; font-family: "arial unicode ms";"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial unicode ms";">inside out </span><br />
another hung on barb wire by his eyes<br />
and what about the fun run one night<br />
when you took off pregnant<br />
after been used for pleasure<br />
by a cheer squad your monster man<br />
brought home from a pick of hand<br />
to be used like a dog like a log till your mind<br />
becomes lost in a fog of frightened flight<br />
that you are powerless to fight<br />
<br />
He cuts you up into a jigsaw<br />
like a piccaso gone wrong</div>
beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-84590797456229794522013-08-07T04:03:00.001-07:002013-08-07T04:03:41.156-07:00secrets secrets secrets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
ssh quiet whispers between filtered lights<br />
blinds shut curtains pulled<br />
secrets<br />
now all hidden in the mind<br />
don't matter<br />
won't matter<br />
you'll grow up<br />
and forget this secret life<br />
All a lie a secret grows<br />
like a noxious weed<br />
spreads<br />
its poisonous roots<br />
deep within your mind<br />
<br />
this isn't your regular little white lies secrets<br />
or I'll tell you a secret<br />
this is like life and death secrets<br />
that one out of a million gets to have it<br />
rare but not that rare<br />
the type that can wipe your life off the face of the earth secret<br />
you grow with a secret<br />
Secrets recognize you<br />
You cant let go<br />
You cant leave a secret behind<br />
the best you can do<br />
is try to hide it<br />
keep it quiet<br />
deep somewhere<br />
in your mind<br />
<br />
It comes with you for the rest of your life<br />
gathering more as you try to live<br />
telling lies for the sake of getting by<br />
SECRETS<br />
taught by fathers mothers sisters brothers<br />
never is their color<br />
only shades and dim lights<br />
in the secrets that you despise<br />
<br />
<br />
growing up<br />
a quiet child<br />
hiding back in corners<br />
running from the secrets<br />
that tie life itself in knots<br />
tangled and frayed<br />
the secrets multiply with the lies<br />
everyday<br />
<br />
Shying from the spot light<br />
running scared all through life<br />
never knowing quite why<br />
but lie you do<br />
and smile<br />
as you become the pro<br />
to the tricks of the trade<br />
in a secret life<br />
<br />
<br />
years of secrets pass<br />
Secrets come and go<br />
secrets find you<br />
add you to their life<br />
then leave you just as quickly<br />
but not before they stain you<br />
with their dirty bloody lies<br />
<br />
till suddenly your all alone<br />
you learn to dig your own hole<br />
bury yourself alive<br />
a master of the mask<br />
always laughter happy smiles to hide<br />
the sadness that stagnates<br />
like a festering scab <br />
you pick at it<br />
telling bits and pieces<br />
like a poem<br />
of cryptic clues<br />
<br />
Like a life wiped out by hurricane<br />
you have no resume to life<br />
no family no belonging no friends no history<br />
<br />
this is my secret life<br />
<br />
If i told you here today<br />
right here now<br />
Who I am<br />
what happened to me<br />
what became<br />
of me<br />
the places I've been<br />
the people I have met<br />
the people I have been with<br />
and the people I have been <br />
the things that I have seen<br />
The things that I have done<br />
the things done to me <br />
what would you make of me<br />
what would you say about me<br />
If I told you my secrets<br />
would you still want to ...........<br />
know<br />
this<br />
is<br />
a<br />
secret<br />
you'll have to take this with you<br />
it will own you<br />
for the rest of your life<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-73579105153637592862013-05-20T05:17:00.001-07:002013-05-20T05:17:49.849-07:00blue tattooed tear ~ a tattered ear ~ black panthers inked ~ a shoulder to cry #haiku<a href="http://twitpic.com/crxgbl#.UZoUY0gs-Gs.blogger">blue tattooed tear ~ a tattered ear ~ black panthers inked ~ a shoulder to cry #haiku</a>: blue tattooed tear ~ a tattered ear ~ black panthers inked ~ a shoulder to cry #haikubeezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-87246498076896186332012-05-26T08:53:00.001-07:002012-05-27T00:32:17.200-07:00Abandonment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">sparse not white </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">hollow no echo </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">vast </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">humming </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">the soundless hum of air </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">trapped </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">with no bars</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">a hostage</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">of denial</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">less than </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">two feet from reach</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">I could have been on the moon </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">how many distances </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">have passed between us </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">and I like an ant </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">and they above in a plane perhaps</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">look down </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">and see a multitude of specks </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">Im so small </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">inside and out </div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">smaller than an ant<br />
and time is enormous<br />
in the abandonment<br />
distance and time<br />
can be as close<br />
as you and I </div></div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-39825644647838427402012-05-16T10:14:00.000-07:002012-05-16T10:14:21.528-07:00The Dance of Odd Balls<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Such is the dance<br />
that leaves odd balls<br />
paralyzed<br />
wingless<br />
footless<br />
lost in life<br />
sitting in dark corners<br />
wearing masks<br />
sugar coated<br />
with nothing real inside<br />
<br />
You<br />
don't even know yourself<br />
to fill quarter of a room <br />
never alone<br />
The kiss kiss<br />
BIG smiles <br />
pleased to sees YOU's<br />
popularity poles<br />
that all<br />
love to cling<br />
slide and swing<br />
<br />
NO YOU sit and hide shy<br />
with that shell of yours<br />
WHATS to talk of<br />
star signs ?<br />
and whats more frightening<br />
to being out of it<br />
or in<br />
that shell you carry<br />
like a crab has<br />
on its back<br />
moving sideways<br />
never fronting your fears<br />
not even when you catch a glimpse<br />
of yourself<br />
do you stand Tall Proud<br />
and reflect<br />
your reflection<br />
NO YOU REJECT<br />
even that of your own image<br />
that you now make<br />
since long ago<br />
the gods must be crazy parents<br />
you propped up on pedestals<br />
and left you to deal with a world<br />
your so quick to reject <br />
<br />
<br />
But here's the deal<br />
once you give in<br />
You give up on yourself<br />
and all of the above is going to become<br />
your lowest point in the world<br />
your not a sad reflection <br />
your not an affliction<br />
Don't let the phonies<br />
push you back<br />
in that shell<br />
Get out now<br />
while you can<br />
Stop living your life in a trance<br />
or this will be<br />
your last chance<br />
to show the world<br />
Odd balls<br />
can dance<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-65970740392925982032012-04-18T06:21:00.002-07:002012-04-18T06:35:24.227-07:00The I in the Icing of Me and Myself<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As I surrender<br />
into the was'es of is'es<br />
I find myself falling<br />
out of the me<br />
an into the am<br />
that should have been<br />
the I<br />
in the Icing<br />
of me<br />
on the cake<br />
of eating and having<br />
it all<br />
in the future<br />
of I I I's<br />
instead Im still here<br />
wandering in a maze<br />
of the was'es and is'es<br />
of the me am's and I's<br />
Oh what does it take<br />
to find<br />
the true self of<br />
Me Myself and I </div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-13153493618215992042012-03-26T05:33:00.005-07:002012-06-14T05:03:36.596-07:00Ode To The Fallen Stars<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
seem like an ink stain<br />
standing out of your head<br />
thoughts struggle<br />
like a drowning <br />
all arms and legs<br />
<br />
so deep in the see <br />
you don't notice<br />
a thing that's said<br />
<br />
feel like an out strung<br />
being strung up for dead<br />
who cares<br />
no matter if the night falls<br />
only wishing you would look<br />
out side your head<br />
<br />
See That Star<br />
all arms and legs<br />
like an octopus<br />
in shallow waters <br />
left breathless <br />
with these thoughts in your head<br />
cant seem to shake the urgent<br />
to talk the need<br />
cant find the words for want<br />
but we all used to look<br />
to the stain of the night<br />
with luck<br />
locking heads<br />
open<br />
to<br />
wish<br />
on a fallen star<br />
all arms and legs<br />
breathless<br />
we held out our hands<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-26161842426656770372012-02-26T06:14:00.002-08:002012-04-23T05:14:40.849-07:00A Strange Affair ~ Depression<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The kiss<br />
of promise<br />
to always be<br />
the quiet of me<br />
Loneliness<br />
like cold death<br />
Oh Jealous Lover<br />
it has always been you<br />
<br />
The sadness of a cross<br />
lays like a crucifixion<br />
in darkness<br />
this sordid affair<br />
you call me<br />
and I crawl the weight of you<br />
your breath like humidity<br />
takes mine<br />
in the kiss<br />
<br />
you know me well<br />
you hide behind a veil<br />
the clouds are now my eyes<br />
<br />
such a strange affair<br />
my only companion<br />
since I was when<br />
You were there then<br />
took over my dreams<br />
my youth<br />
even my illusions<br />
turned disillusions<br />
<br />
how you wear me down<br />
I've carried you for years<br />
Im so tired<br />
my back has turned me on myself<br />
<br />
my control freak friend<br />
Im just concerned<br />
how this affair will end<br />
I find myself<br />
trying to hide things from you<br />
even the scars that cut deep<br />
with your name<br />
till i was blue<br />
but somehow you have a hand<br />
in that too<br />
<br />
You have convinced<br />
the world that you are needed<br />
they worship you<br />
write your name<br />
in script<br />
and in turn<br />
you have turned viral<br />
<br />
Taking the world on<br />
with a force<br />
of quiet submission<br />
I lay in wait for your one mistake<br />
my control freak friend<br />
my jealous lover<br />
and when you do<br />
I will be there<br />
ready for you<br />
as all lovers do<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-37817960058316544542012-01-24T06:00:00.000-08:002012-01-24T06:37:02.427-08:00Full Bloom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">the fragility of rose<br />
full bloom<br />
her fall from the crown<br />
leaves<br />
tiny droplets<br />
of blood red petals<br />
spread across the earth<br />
for an instant<br />
then gone<br />
with the wind<br />
leaving<br />
only her empty crown<br />
and I<br />
who bear witness<br />
to the existence of rose<br />
full bloom </div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-29251160735259768402012-01-23T05:45:00.002-08:002012-03-03T09:17:29.913-08:00Twins of Summertime<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">the pregnancy<br />
to the end of a day<br />
gives bursts<br />
to giant rain clouds<br />
of blood red<br />
that fill the sky<br />
like a fired furnace<br />
<br />
stretch marks of deep violet blues<br />
twilight<br />
and coil the red flames<br />
in this furnace<br />
a burning<br />
of summers day<br />
<br />
screaming's of birth<br />
tantrums of thunder<br />
as an explosion<br />
of blood red<br />
gives way<br />
from the belly<br />
of the sky<br />
and the waters break<br />
giant drops of rain<br />
fall<br />
<br />
slowly<br />
the sun slips<br />
into the wet mouth<br />
of the sea<br />
swallowed whole<br />
in a day<br />
the birth of darkness<br />
is born '<br />
bearing full its moon<br />
on the horizon<br />
we call this time<br />
night </div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-79346952667526974212012-01-22T04:37:00.002-08:002012-02-21T05:23:22.436-08:00There are two I's in Origami<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">the origami Of I<br />
written on paper<br />
I fold myself<br />
inside out<br />
till i am no more a muse<br />
a poem<br />
or haiku<br />
rubbish<br />
I am picked up<br />
a one night stand<br />
by the wind<br />
and just as I cling<br />
Im let go<br />
curled like a leaf<br />
I am<br />
falling<br />
from the tree<br />
that once held me<br />
made no promises<br />
to keep me<br />
I am origami<br />
I am paper thin<br />
I cut sharp<br />
and you bleed<br />
my words out<br />
like there is<br />
no tomorrow<br />
I am me<br />
a piece of poetry<br />
that neither rhymes<br />
or for some<br />
has rind<br />
but I am amused<br />
by all my origami art<br />
made without paper<br />
but folded<br />
none the less<br />
with words<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-20356369560863080152011-11-21T19:24:00.000-08:002011-11-21T19:24:37.466-08:00Full Moon Rising<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Against your night<br />
my skin so pale<br />
this cold wind<br />
bitter spiteful<br />
jealous wind<br />
finds its way<br />
inside me<br />
<br />
Between the spaces<br />
of my cage<br />
my heart<br />
a fallen moon<br />
pale<br />
frozen<br />
only the dark side<br />
of me knows you<br />
my night<br />
and begs you now<br />
<br />
Swallow me whole<br />
into your darkness<br />
let me feel<br />
your velvet heart<br />
beating<br />
against my cage<br />
<br />
Break this spell<br />
that stole my heart<br />
and froze it<br />
for eternity<br />
let the dark syrup of your eyes<br />
fill my veins<br />
<br />
You are my blood line<br />
my first breath<br />
my first taste<br />
my velvet night<br />
<br />
As I reach out<br />
into your darkness<br />
I feel your pulse<br />
charging my heart<br />
You fill me with life<br />
So that I am<br />
Rising<br />
Full Moon<br />
once again<br />
to turn the tides<br />
for lovers hearts<br />
will be mine tonight<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-33591858763597046962011-09-30T20:22:00.000-07:002013-05-15T10:00:10.096-07:00The Only Cuttlefish Left Are Sepia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
an album of cuttlefish<br />
a life before hers<br />
all in sepia<br />
a past of strangers<br />
staring motionless<br />
she turns the page<br />
that freezes before her<br />
then like an ink stain<br />
the reddish brown spills a screen saver<br />
in memory<br />
fluid of the past<br />
falling before her eyes<br />
sadness<br />
a black veil of grief<br />
dipped in a nothingness of madness and disbelief<br />
as dolphins and whales are disappearing<br />
now extinct<br />
the cuttlefish,<br />
their ink<br />
this, was their defence?<br />
not enough to save their species<br />
from the one hand that filled a fountain<br />
to pen their trust <br />
humanity<br />
<br />
now turn the page<br />
nothing blooms of colour<br />
their only memories left<br />
like the cuttlefish<br />
a photograph browned<br />
in a sepia sea<br />
a dolphin a whale<br />
and<br />
a<br />
bee<br />
<br /></div>
beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-58984617932822098042011-08-23T03:24:00.000-07:002011-11-06T04:35:57.747-08:00Three Quiet Poems<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The Python Sea<br />
<br />
I love the trees<br />
with its twigs that nest<br />
the harmonic sounds<br />
of a magpies cry<br />
from stark white gums<br />
beneath a chameleon sky<br />
the sunsets<br />
with slight burnt colours of rusty<br />
corrugated roofs<br />
Light glares at those who dare<br />
to stare<br />
as it bares itself naked<br />
swallowed<br />
slowly<br />
the sun melts<br />
into the wet mouth<br />
of a python sea<br />
<br />
Moon Love<br />
<br />
bonfire sparks of light<br />
reflect across the fall of night<br />
prisms of starlight<br />
blink in and out<br />
as the moon lies<br />
in sensuous curve<br />
for lovers eyes<br />
<br />
A New Day<br />
<br />
pink ribbons of blossom<br />
tie the knots of green buds with bows<br />
petaled in curls of sunlight<br />
splashes of play fill<br />
puddled shadows<br />
the sounds of kookaburra laughter<br />
pegs the morning on a line of fresh day<br />
blowing without a care<br />
an electricity of breeze<br />
blows the blue sky<br />
into a new day<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-31319438438012784702011-08-22T07:41:00.000-07:002011-08-22T22:49:21.494-07:00Dedicated to the #CatholicChurch Moms the Word<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Everyday I dig a little deeper<br />
Insane now for the pain<br />
I let it spill out<br />
with no care about the mess<br />
I was so particular<br />
about the slightest flaw<br />
<br />
my secrets lived alone with me<br />
myself<br />
and I<br />
To be so alone<br />
to live so lonely<br />
so angry<br />
sealed with a permanent smile<br />
<br />
is a distance<br />
that can never be reach<br />
there is nothing here<br />
in this secret place<br />
barred with razor wired teeth<br />
Points and frowns<br />
where nightmares are made of brand new days<br />
where nights are a burial of fear<br />
<br />
There is no safe<br />
there is no place<br />
for this is not a memory<br />
a photo of keepsake<br />
a past to look back on<br />
a shared happening in history<br />
a party breaker<br />
a conversation maker<br />
<br />
This is a place called shame<br />
this is my name<br />
I am to remove myself from society<br />
place myself as the garbage I am<br />
and at no cost involve myself with life<br />
I gave up these rights when I gave birth to life<br />
<br />
and don't I ever dare to think of indulging myself<br />
with grandeur ideas<br />
of thinking I could even possibly be forgiven<br />
for committing such an immoral act<br />
young single and pregnant<br />
SLAP GOOD GOD GIRL WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!<br />
Oh thats right You don't think do you<br />
Your trash dumb stupid bad simpleminded slut<br />
all That can be forgiven<br />
but YOU You and YOU<br />
Pregnant.... single No family <br />
No no no<br />
Mothers do not<br />
are not<br />
made of such beginnings<br />
<br />
For me the force of my pregnancy and for many<br />
was the beginning of my end<br />
all over within seconds with my No meaning Yes<br />
An alcoholic beverage<br />
filled with drugs for leverage<br />
was the daddy long legs<br />
a spider that decided my fate<br />
No meant Yes<br />
Terrified<br />
was asking for more<br />
I<br />
cried<br />
were tears of Joy<br />
After which wrapped in his web<br />
kept for a undetermined time<br />
where i escaped<br />
and begged and begged and begged<br />
for help<br />
as my belly<br />
got to big for my belt<br />
I was ignored<br />
and ignored<br />
and ignored<br />
<br />
until I gave birth<br />
and the clucky nuns<br />
who had a list of good moms<br />
paid visit to the farms<br />
where<br />
moms to breed<br />
were left in rooms<br />
with signs stating<br />
Isolation Do Not Enter Diseases<br />
New moms who had no families<br />
homeless fearful vulnerable<br />
first timers mothers<br />
with no where to go .....<br />
<br />
this is the place and the time<br />
for many<br />
<br />
for some who escaped<br />
we were finally caught<br />
there must have been a silent nod<br />
that it was only a matter of time<br />
we would be found<br />
<br />
Trickery manipulation of situations<br />
would be used to the max<br />
to pry from clinging arms<br />
the gold bar of life<br />
the child<br />
<br />
There is no way no thing no say<br />
that can erase the loss the grief<br />
of a child that is taken away<br />
<br />
Within your body and mind <br />
the power and control<br />
grinds it way throughout<br />
your day and nights<br />
and you dare not move<br />
not a thought is removed<br />
You stay for the rest of your life<br />
In that day that year that time<br />
that your chid your baby was taken<br />
<br />
By You Society You the Nurses the Doctors the Police the Welfare<br />
Your System Your G0d the all Mighty Catholicism of Godly deeds Moral Justly and Right<br />
Set to be the authority on Care of life<br />
whats good whats wrong whats right<br />
<br />
Before you existed my own blood<br />
had stained my families snow white sheet<br />
By five<br />
I was named<br />
Little bitch<br />
so easy for you<br />
wasn't it Sister Mary Merry Nun<br />
you knew of this seed<br />
and did nothing to stop the growth<br />
you kept on sowing<br />
the misery the abuse violence the naive the vulnerable minds of life<br />
<br />
My shame<br />
you said<br />
should never be said<br />
You stole my child<br />
and threw me out<br />
trash<br />
you said<br />
Moms the word<br />
you be silent or your child will be hurt<br />
<br />
and now<br />
Look at me <br />
the adult I am<br />
thinking now <br />
I have these rights<br />
but where and how and what to...<br />
God only knows<br />
after what shame<br />
and secrets do<br />
right ...<br />
<br />
<br />
what rules apply I wonder<br />
wen having to be your own psych<br />
for no one not even God has made contact<br />
since you announced that what you did was wrong<br />
that You are<br />
Sorry .........<br />
<br />
I take another stab at getting my head around your sorry <br />
and what this means<br />
am I allowed to say<br />
I am a mother now<br />
or was a mother<br />
Is ?<br />
my child an adult now<br />
this child of mine<br />
has been abused and shamed too<br />
how could you<br />
and your sorry<br />
and<br />
that one Hurts<br />
I've not looked at this<br />
since<br />
you stole from me<br />
<br />
did they the sorry ones think about all this<br />
when<br />
they said sorry<br />
did they think<br />
about all those burials<br />
mothers burying their babies<br />
births alive in their minds<br />
All the Lies and secrets told<br />
to a world of life<br />
the self denial<br />
when asked if a mother<br />
what to say No No No I am shame shit and lame<br />
I cant tell anyone that i am a mother<br />
am I<br />
what I am<br />
<br />
Did you give thought to what we say now<br />
to the world ?<br />
<br />
as nuns you were allowed to keep your habit<br />
just change the cosmetics<br />
blend in with life<br />
wear sneakers sunnies and hats<br />
that slide across your lying eyes <br />
so nobody can tell<br />
you apart from hell<br />
<br />
Now Im in hell<br />
on earth<br />
this very moment<br />
Im looking at a multitude of<br />
ways to get my head around<br />
your sorry<br />
your flakey blakey sorry<br />
fuck you<br />
you liar<br />
pants on fire<br />
I never grew up<br />
you stunted my growth<br />
your a cancer without<br />
the fag<br />
Oh fag lets talk about fags<br />
you have done your fucking best there too<br />
haven't you Oh Catholic Mighty One<br />
No God would steal the child from the mother<br />
you Mother fuckers<br />
you fucking cunts of habit<br />
you poofta bashed your sermons<br />
used a brainwash of hell and shame<br />
with the vulnerable and gentle<br />
You made our names a stain<br />
<br />
You gave us no choice<br />
with your gangs of bent morals<br />
To believe<br />
I was bad<br />
a disease<br />
fit for no life<br />
I have hid in the shadows<br />
fearing motherhood relationship friends career love life god ME<br />
I fear Me<br />
<br />
When you stole my child<br />
you stole my soul<br />
my spirit died<br />
committed suicide<br />
and<br />
your<br />
sorry </div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-22935131662838114602011-08-19T19:09:00.000-07:002011-08-19T19:09:40.398-07:00In The Bloom is as fragile to a breeze as a touch is to me: I Am ..not what you paint<a href="http://beezknez-beezknez.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-small-when-im-with-you-so-tall-when.html?spref=bl">In The Bloom is as fragile to a breeze as a touch is to me: I Am ..not what you paint</a>: Im small when im with you so tall when alone Im shy when im with you a force to be reckoned with alone In crowds I have wings I am soc...beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-84369175144467684832011-07-20T10:14:00.000-07:002011-09-04T05:36:25.525-07:00The Blooms of Two Poems<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The Birth of Tomorrow<br />
<br />
Above<br />
epileptic blue<br />
<br />
The mouth of the sky<br />
opens<br />
Out to a flow of white clouds<br />
drifting<br />
our mind<br />
dreams<br />
the pregnancy of a new day<br />
falling<br />
like a soft rain<br />
we hold on<br />
to the embryo<br />
of tomorrow<br />
with new hope<br />
<br />
............................................................................................. <br />
A Lemon Scented Night<br />
<br />
<br />
A lemon scented night<br />
for a quarter of a moon<br />
priceless treasures<br />
my first perfume<br />
kindles within memories<br />
of<br />
sun bleached and tangled<br />
hair<br />
peeling nose burning bright<br />
like a rudolph light<br />
Christmas trees and houses<br />
all alight like a bonfire<br />
electricity and excitement<br />
the crackling of the air<br />
<br />
Seaweed green and slimy beards<br />
hanging off our chins<br />
like a volcanic eruption<br />
laughter flowed<br />
like lava<br />
from deep down<br />
in our bellies<br />
Our legs would feel like jelly<br />
<br />
Sand warm and soft<br />
between the toes<br />
castles buckets spades and motes<br />
<br />
walks along cliff tops<br />
singing songs<br />
talking to yourself<br />
to a friend<br />
imaginary<br />
or reel riel real<br />
or not<br />
Our child hood became<br />
part of the scenery<br />
we were<br />
oblivious to the world <br />
<br />
blackberries cooking in a pot of sun<br />
we would all squeal Yum! <br />
with mouths pouting<br />
purple bruising pose<br />
stuff our bellies<br />
and head for home<br />
<br />
on the way<br />
looking for shells<br />
we knew which ones were best<br />
we could just tell<br />
cuttle fish for blue<br />
still learning to say<br />
I love you ~ I love you<br />
<br />
Long white sheets<br />
who's a scary ghost<br />
riding push bikes<br />
really really fast<br />
climbing up the gum trees<br />
smoking cigarettes<br />
hanging upside down<br />
so the world<br />
looked like one big frown<br />
iced buns<br />
and mums call<br />
don't fall<br />
riding He's a Giant<br />
Ten Hands<br />
Stallion Tall<br />
bareback<br />
no fear at all<br />
and<br />
a lemon scented night<br />
<br />
.................................................................................................................</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-69651283506916410292011-07-13T09:49:00.002-07:002012-04-09T04:31:17.498-07:00I Am<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Im small when im with you<br />
so tall when alone<br />
Im shy when im with you<br />
a force to be reckoned with<br />
alone<br />
In crowds I have wings<br />
I am social<br />
a butterfly<br />
who is<br />
resting <br />
like the branch of a tree<br />
I am generous<br />
in my give<br />
and take<br />
between <br />
I can ease the separation<br />
of the punch<br />
line up<br />
for all your calls<br />
a meaning<br />
that does not make you<br />
feel<br />
small<br />
so<br />
please<br />
be<br />
kind<br />
in<br />
your<br />
blind<br />
efforts<br />
to<br />
act<br />
respect<br />
if<br />
you<br />
haven't<br />
got<br />
the<br />
effort<br />
dont<br />
pretend<br />
effortlessly<br />
the practice<br />
of philosophy<br />
because<br />
I<br />
am more<br />
and less<br />
than<br />
any words you<br />
use<br />
To compare<br />
my words<br />
with<br />
I<br />
am<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-41981701951775663442011-07-12T12:37:00.000-07:002013-08-08T08:09:32.231-07:00The Snow Job<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The blazing sun<br />
startles the land<br />
like a loaded gun<br />
but not even in such glare<br />
could you see past the surface<br />
to the depths<br />
of this tragic despair<br />
<br />
This land that had once been alive<br />
now bares the ivory white teeth of gums<br />
like a rape<br />
its blood clotted dry<br />
These old ghosts<br />
line up under the hot sun<br />
like witness<br />
to the nakedness<br />
of the snow job<br />
cruel hands in white gloves<br />
<br />
The cold winds at night<br />
howl the terrifying sounds<br />
of stolen generations<br />
Their souls stud a sea of unknown darkness<br />
waiting like an outcast<br />
in this rain of stripped color and skin<br />
animals find there grief filled hunger<br />
fed like a cover job<br />
to the rusted sands<br />
<br />
If you stop to listen<br />
sound has no echo here<br />
all that was<br />
and ever is<br />
and will be<br />
has been suspended<br />
in mid air<br />
imagine then if you will<br />
the mother and the child<br />
being torn apart<br />
In the middle of nowhere<br />
where fishermen<br />
use lines of lies to hook<br />
and steal<br />
from the deep<br />
the dreaming time<br />
<br /></div>
beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-39086860409823943912011-07-11T08:26:00.000-07:002011-07-11T09:45:33.233-07:00Three short poems ... I ~ Am ~ MePoem 1. I<br />
When you couldn't be the one I adored<br />
I became that lie<br />
I grew my mask<br />
Crawled into your illusion<br />
Naked<br />
my social wings<br />
already explored and torn<br />
<br />
.............................................................................................................................................................<br />
Poem 2. Am<br />
<br />
always a little late<br />
even on the turn<br />
their is nothing right<br />
or wrong<br />
or more<br />
my naked illusions have been shattered<br />
Im just a reflection passing by<br />
<br />
..................................................................................................................................................................<br />
Poem 3. Me<br />
<br />
I am just a breath away<br />
I look at you<br />
my affection disappears<br />
your memory next to me<br />
I keep it close enough<br />
don't I<br />
This memory of me<br />
<br />
I am just a breath away<br />
I remember eyes wide open<br />
You watching me watching you<br />
your memory next to me<br />
<br />
Yet I cant remember this me<br />
I see a me of reflections<br />
in every mirror I see<br />
parts of me<br />
reflected yet<br />
I don't recognize this me<br />
<br />
I am just a breath away from me<br />
Yet<br />
I don't recognize<br />
who<br />
is<br />
this<br />
mebeezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-85826448094901651502011-07-10T23:53:00.001-07:002012-04-08T10:11:21.177-07:00Are These Words Really Mine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">dumps<br />
rubbish<br />
bin<br />
it<br />
lid<br />
off<br />
obnoxious<br />
knocked<br />
out<br />
in<br />
corners<br />
FLASH<br />
eyes<br />
spying<br />
on<br />
the<br />
off<br />
moment<br />
in <br />
time<br />
give me words<br />
that are mine<br />
are these above me<br />
or beneath<br />
I ask you<br />
can you tell me<br />
what it all means<br />
freedom<br />
is that writing<br />
what you want<br />
speaking your mind<br />
choosing your religion<br />
or not<br />
writing a song<br />
could that be freedom<br />
love<br />
never enough<br />
too much<br />
too little '<br />
not enough to go round<br />
tell me can you<br />
is there anything<br />
hear that you see<br />
that is free<br />
here<br />
in<br />
my<br />
words<br />
that<br />
you<br />
read<br />
are they just words<br />
are they really mine<br />
have you wrote<br />
anything here<br />
that may be considered yours<br />
is that what freedom is<br />
that the is 's and the the the's<br />
the and's be you what that he me she see blue color so on's<br />
are for the picking<br />
cotton on<br />
like<br />
finders<br />
keepers<br />
loosers<br />
weepers<br />
just<br />
surviving<br />
just<br />
writing<br />
freedom<br />
are<br />
these<br />
words<br />
really<br />
mine</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-85658431654704271192011-06-30T06:44:00.000-07:002011-07-28T09:09:19.627-07:00Punch Fake Media Spoils<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">punch fake<br />
how i hate the flake<br />
like paint peels<br />
nice to rip<br />
but to see<br />
underneath<br />
all thats cosmetic<br />
paint and peel<br />
You really<br />
Aren't quite the real deal<br />
<br />
punch fake<br />
when i look at you<br />
such a pose you present<br />
of yourself to the world<br />
sex sells oh yes<br />
even in poetry<br />
so it tells<br />
your story<br />
using pains of women<br />
wars<br />
glorified miseries<br />
to gain your glory<br />
to get your story<br />
<br />
punch fake<br />
from a miscarriage<br />
to the carriage<br />
you have carried it all<br />
it seems<br />
only I see your real lines<br />
they are silvery purple<br />
stretch lines of truth<br />
a mass million zillion dot dot dots<br />
<br />
punch fake<br />
you tell lies<br />
make your own faerie tales<br />
exploit secrets<br />
manipulate what is white<br />
what is black<br />
print it all<br />
on an<br />
off beaten track<br />
and in between<br />
Giving wrong directions<br />
<br />
wrong direction<br />
<br />
and what about the grays<br />
There are no grays<br />
so you say<br />
Grays<br />
its an area<br />
a mentality<br />
those well trod old paths<br />
common as muck<br />
Take ya luck<br />
its all pot luck<br />
Where you end up<br />
Getting nipped and tucked<br />
all in the mind<br />
thats where the gray of day is<br />
and the gray of night stay<br />
gray or grey or grave<br />
sounds much of the same<br />
All them grays<br />
Old Truths<br />
'Well you say<br />
"Its all cement<br />
they just need a good filler<br />
Like cracks and<br />
paint peels<br />
No one knows <br />
Anyhow what is<br />
and what isn't<br />
The real deal<br />
<br />
punch fake<br />
are the words<br />
that fall<br />
from your lips<br />
The looks<br />
that you roll in a blink<br />
with eyes<br />
that spy<br />
on others<br />
and lie<br />
<br />
fake punch<br />
is the only thing you know how to give<br />
to stand and deliver<br />
you would rather fall<br />
than be a giver<br />
<br />
punch fake<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-39390643650515840372011-06-27T00:15:00.001-07:002012-03-03T22:29:56.237-08:00Gone Each Day I Search for You<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">in the gone<br />
the cracks<br />
like glass<br />
broken<br />
lost<br />
No<br />
gone<br />
Yes<br />
like the walls<br />
we build<br />
their existence floats<br />
across our minds<br />
existing in time<br />
but gone<br />
on each road<br />
you take<br />
gone<br />
blocking your way<br />
no corners or angles<br />
just gone<br />
not in a dark hole<br />
or a bright light<br />
gone has no change<br />
no flavour<br />
no colour<br />
no handles to hold on to<br />
gone is neither hot or cold or warm<br />
<br />
gone is like death<br />
that you never saw<br />
heard<br />
experienced<br />
in goodbyes<br />
<br />
gone<br />
is not a vanishing<br />
or a disappearance<br />
something you saw<br />
in the corner of your eye<br />
and then it was gone<br />
<br />
gone exist<br />
it was always there<br />
then it was not<br />
gone is real<br />
gone lives within the left behind<br />
It is something you know<br />
It is Someone you loved<br />
<br />
gone is something<br />
you had<br />
gone is someone<br />
out there<br />
that never came back<br />
gone never changes<br />
it is monotone<br />
it is constant<br />
in its reality<br />
gone exist<br />
in moments<br />
in time<br />
over<br />
and<br />
over<br />
again<br />
empty<br />
sad<br />
hurt<br />
screams<br />
within<br />
the pain<br />
of<br />
left behinds<br />
alone<br />
and<br />
gone<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-35535180018358358402011-06-24T05:30:00.000-07:002011-07-24T06:52:14.199-07:00My blue blue blues bleed too<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Im the addict of blues<br />
Red slashes of blooms<br />
In my veins<br />
I share room with a blue fit lady<br />
Who lives in a sheer glass tube<br />
<br />
Strange friends we are and came to be<br />
one night<br />
you were there<br />
the<br />
only<br />
one<br />
when<br />
my soul was stripped bare<br />
<br />
That night you remember<br />
when you held my arm so tight<br />
entered me with the tiniest bite<br />
like a little vampire lover you were mine that night<br />
and now I am yours<br />
You watched while my spirit<br />
committed suicide<br />
and decided to revive<br />
my mind<br />
and now<br />
you<br />
stay<br />
with<br />
me every single day<br />
and at night you fill me like life<br />
with the sweet warmth of a lullaby<br />
sweet blooms<br />
of red<br />
like a beautiful silk slash<br />
I wear you inside<br />
Your my blue blue veil<br />
to my pain<br />
nobody knows<br />
my true identity<br />
just a name<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313394636256747669.post-39625909094860318362011-06-16T01:50:00.001-07:002012-04-04T08:47:07.701-07:00This Is My Shit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">although I have issues<br />
have been incarcerated<br />
been judged by jury<br />
bashed in fury<br />
raped in ripples<br />
till I've been no more<br />
than an emotional cripple<br />
<br />
although I have been<br />
abused and accused<br />
told I was challenged<br />
by my mental lack<br />
or wish<br />
to conform<br />
Have a great mistrust of the little white sheep<br />
Keep turning<br />
My key backwards<br />
to the systems connections<br />
Won't recognize there razor back ways<br />
to corrections<br />
spent most of my time<br />
in solitary<br />
reflections<br />
<br />
although all<br />
I write because I am and can ` I also paint too<br />
but that don't make me everything I do<br />
and although all through<br />
Im everything above Im also none of it <br />
Im so much more<br />
some days<br />
And<br />
so much less<br />
on others<br />
and writing Shit Yes helps<br />
and writing Shit doesn't help<br />
Nor does it hurt<br />
but I don't<br />
like the idiots<br />
that think<br />
its because<br />
I've been abused<br />
and I have abused<br />
oh yes I have<br />
to survive<br />
you'll be amazed what you can do<br />
and wont do<br />
and have do<br />
and don't do<br />
and the system thinks this is an ok do<br />
for me for you<br />
That i can write my shit too<br />
<br />
No<br />
I shake my head to all who state this claim as theirs<br />
That because I didn't fucking wind up state mental stamped and mad<br />
That somehow now my claim to fame<br />
is that I survived<br />
and now Im cool<br />
No longer called a fool<br />
and thought that I write<br />
because of my life tools<br />
No one should have this shit to write<br />
No one should have to fight<br />
No one should have to be raped till they ripple<br />
emotionally crippled<br />
I don't write because of above<br />
and I don't write because of below<br />
I write because I can and am and do<br />
But no one should have to write about shit<br />
But this is my shit<br />
and its all I can do<br />
<br />
</div>beezknezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06115744954977329924noreply@blogger.com4