My hand…look…fast is waning,
No more refrain from word-straining.
For the end swiftly approaches.
Expressionisms flow, in draining,
For sorrow encroaches.
Oh, how steady on its’ course,
We lose and then regain our source.
But hence I fear it will ne’er return,
Dripping-composure off-course,
May have no yearning to return.
K. Aldaya, 9/27/05
Picture: “A Lady Writing” (Close-up) by Johannes Vermeer (1665-66); http://www.essentialvermeer.com/catalogue/lady_writing.html#.VULKsJO8jGs
The body won’t forget what the mind wants to,
So I’m stuck with these old feelings,
And a constant aching-clue,
As to why there are no ceilings,
On this house or any other.
A protective realm of dry,
Under the blackened shadows of the rainy sky.
Bones rust and rot, …hoping to die.
The mind doesn’t want to recall what the body’s kept,
For the mind escaped somewhere while the body slept.
Dreams…0’dreams have brought me here,
To this time I own,
But skin decays, in gripped portrays,
Of storms the mind’s disowned.
The body won’t forget what the mind longs to.
The damage is already done,
Though God’s pulled the years through,
Out of the flood and mounting mud,
Having no reason…not one…haven’t a clue,
For the hours and minutes here are,
Undeserving of a mind.
In a cursed tomb as this with no covering to find….
And there’s one drop…more behind.
K. Aldaya, 8/6/05
Picture: “Rain Drops” by Austin Tolin on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/austintolin/124121992/in/set-72057594085954911
Oh science thinks it can discover all truth,
But, “What is truth?”, should they ask.
For they may have the way things seem to be;
All truth held in a little flask.
For as to find what one cannot see or touch,
Would be too difficult a task.
The question becomes, “What is real and true?”
Does the knowing of each sense,
Conclude for all how truth should be measured?
For even quarter more mind to dispense,
Would change every scientific truth we know;
If scientists didn’t state: “Nonsense!”.
K. Aldaya, 12/12/04
Frustrated with my lack of knowing,
And what should I then do?
It’s as if all wisdom is undoing,
An empty paradise ensuing.
Vexed with vexes long o’er due,
Void of gold solutions.
Blank fills the mind anew,
Abandoned thoughts take their cue.
K. Aldaya, 12/1/04
Picture: Artist Unknown; http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8TlTVhsx2Ks/TgTlPzP3u1I/AAAAAAAAAWE/xFTtKSmPVEU/s1600/6a00d8341c692c53ef010536923b7d970b-800wi.jpg
Sitting still, as still can be,
Knowing that I cannot see,
Anything behind of me.
Hear the creaking ever closer,
But there sit, and do not stir;
Wait for something to occur.
Close, so close , that I can feel,
Breath behind. Almost surreal.
Longing for a screams’ repeal!
Silence but for the soft sound,
As evils’ heart does pound and pound,
In my ears the beats resound!
The terror comes o’er in whole,
A terror without console,
Begetting a tormented soul.
Hand quickly seizes my arm,
So sudden as to cause alarm,
Which foreshadows coming harm.
Frozen. Too scared to make a move,
This vision I must now remove,
For all things to improve.
With a spark of strength I turn,
To see what I cannot discern,
‘Bout this vision that does burn.
Black, cold, and bitter sights,
Fill my heart with dreadful frights,
And a blaze inside ignites.
K. Aldaya, 10/28/04
Picture: “Rabid” by Charles Bodi: http://www.charlesbodi.com/; http://ridemypony.com/index.php/2007/11/16/rabid/
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
