214. Scream or Shout

So many thoughts inside my head,

But how to get them out?

I wish I knew, or had one clue,

As to how to scream or shout!

All this pain locked away,

Since the dawn of time.

My skin is pain, although in vain,

I ask to know my crime.

Rock is cold and has no soul,

And feels not pain or sorrow.

How is it then, my skin feels it when,

My soul hides deep in marrow?

So many thoughts inside my head,

But how to get them out?

They hide behind, walls of stone and bind….

My tears: They scream…..they shout!

K. Aldaya, 05/23/11

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.free-hdwallpapers.com/wallpapers/abstract/173332.jpg

196. The Great Inundation

Days of light, and black of night,

The endlessly faded-years,

Arise in mind, the wish to find,

The ground unwashed with tears.

Shadows of night,

Flashes of light,

Drip in and out the eyes.

What can I say of where I’ll stay,

When rivers run and rise?

Wooden floors, and creaking doors.

I do not dare to linger more,

For waters-rose, sift through the toes,

And send shivers before.

I do not wish to make a splish,

And out of door make ‘scape.

I only ask, what is my task,

For drying times’ landscape?

I know this house has been a house,

Through myriad ages and storm-rains.

What is, just is, and what is…,

Has left me with these pains.

Give me a firm place to stand firm,

Within the flood-torn remnant thoughts,

Of the mind, which I still find,

O’er-run and soaked with fraughts.

K. Aldaya, 4/20/06

Picture: “Flooded Subway-Murder” by etwoo on Deviant Art; http://etwoo.deviantart.com/art/Flooded-subway-Murder-174655998

183. Note to Self: That’s What You Get

Why can’t I forget those days?

Those lingering memories: a phase,

Of life so long since passed.

Though hours and years have flown away,

The visions burn and steadily prey,

Upon my undead soul.

None bring up, but sights remind,

That the past is well behind,

Yet still so felt and real.

Hate is there for its’ own sake;

Hating the hate that lies awake,

To chaos hope with guilt.

Hate and love both held within,

Wailing loud of selfish sin.

Who cares how things had been!

This life is hard for everyone.

Isn’t mine just another one?

Lacking a strong spirit?

Weakness and self-pity there,

Deep in my mind, create despair.

Unwarranted. Unjust.

I’m the real freak and con,

The one who cannot move on.

Who keeps evil alive.

I deserve what I feel here,

Every pain and every tear;

Figments of a horrid head.

I cannot forget those days.

Dreams and memories a haze,

Of pre-tarnished truth.

Nothing will e’er change what be,

Within a heart that cannot see,

That it should settle for,

Deserving pain forever.

K. Aldaya, 11/4/05

Picture: “Can You See The Ghost? IV” by AlexandraSophie on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Can-you-see-the-ghost-IV-165270619

164. Be At Peace Little Ones

In my youth I never slept,

As one of idle mind.

For children of innocence,

So soon are left behind;

To gather and to bind.

A mess of immature chaos,

Was carried from my early start.

Oh, youth should not be poisoned so,

Twisted by a blackened heart,

And dreams scattered apart.

I know not what it’s like,

To be free of my memory,

Nightmares and they intermixed,

Compounded in every degree,

By the years taken from me.

My body was the enemy.

My soul a fallen comrade,

In wars of power and control.

The armor in which I was clad,

Was made of fear…and bad.

When turmoil is your first bed,

And innocence costs you dear,

You learn to sleep alone at night,

And be at peace in the drear.

(As your side’s pierced with a spear).

So be at peace ye little ones,

When youths’ caress has left,

To comfort not within the strife,

That’s left your soul bereft.

Look beyond the theft,

As just one piece of this shattered-life.

K. Aldaya, 9/17/05

Picture: Originally on http://vodkaandvogue.tumblr.com/; Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/311870/

156. Falling Rain

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