581. I Am a Secret

I am a secret,

That no one wants to hear,

Yet, still, I exist,…

Tiptoeing ever near,…

And far.

I am a secret,

Which travels in the light,

Too bright to be seen,…

For blinding is the sight,…

Of truth.

I am a secret,

That no one wants around,…

Uncomfortable,…

And shake the very ground,…

Beneath.

I am a secret,

Which longs to be released,…

Under the table,

Just beyond life’s blithe feast,…

Of lies.

I am a secret,

That no one wants to hear.

I wander, unheard,…

Outside the atmosphere,…

Breathless.

I am a secret,

Which finds it hard to breathe,

In thick carelessness,…

Strangling,…while others seethe:

“Go! Leave!”…

“No one will believe”…

…”No one will believe”.

K. Aldaya, 4/24/22

Picture: By Hasan Ouajbir on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/GeH1kcP4u7o

565. Arcane

I waited lifetimes for men to do what is right,

To seek truth, no matter how hard,

And light-up the ageless night,…

In search of each shard,

Of forgotten plight.

Yet, there’s no use in waiting for hope or justice,

When men seek what’s easy, not just,…

And sleep soundly at night, feckless,

As shadows are thrust,

In each orifice.

I waited lifetimes for no more than fantasy;

For when I look into the black,

It gazes back into me,

While those who won’t see,

Endlessly attack,…

And I grin, knowingly.

K. Aldaya, 11/17/21

Picture:

From Sucker Punch; https://gifs.alphacoders.com/gifs/view/181159

2. From Sucker Punch; https://www.fanpop.com/clubs/sucker-punch/images/26330438/title/babydoll-photo/4

248. There’s a Monster in My Closet

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there,

But deep inside,….I feel it….,

Feel it on the skin: naked; bare.

There’s a monster in my closet.

It murmurs without spare,

Of long ago,…of far away…,

Of a place no longer there.

There’s a monster in my closet,

Breathing. Breathing. Breathing,…

Oh, and panting for it’s fare.

“It’s not there….Yes, it’s not there!”

There’s a monster in my closet.

“Open the door”, you say?

I’ll do so, with strength,

I’ll do so right away.

Maybe I’ll see it…..Yes! See it there today!

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there;

But today I’m going to face it,

And be done with this despair.

There’s a monster in my closet,

Of this I am aware;

And so I delve into it’s lair,

To see it’s face, to let it free,

To find another care.

There’s a monster in my closet.

The closet door creaks open……slowly…open,

Where is it?

Desperately I search. Pull and tear…until,

There’s nothing left but remnants,

Of what once was there.

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there,

But deep inside I feel it….

I feel it everywhere!

K. Aldaya, Date: ???

Picture: Photographer Unknown; Originally on Aperture Journal.com; http://imgarcade.com/1/old-creepy-doors/

122. Secret Fancy

Gaze for to see,

In quintessence of secrecy.

Deep in the depths fancy is free.

Opposites clash,

Fused in thirsty veins: black as ash,

Beautiful and loathsome there splash.

Fancies lie grand,

Conflagration: soon dealt in hand…

Revealed: a dense forest land.

Sometimes is green,

Sparkling with sureties pristine,

Glittering the heart with serene.

A peaceful unseen.

Other times trees,

Fraught with searing perplexities,

Hang o’er my hand,

Swaying grave pleas.

For comes the black sickness train,

Riding on its’ track.

Standing unsure on the tracks’ crack.

A loud clash screams,

Breaking of stiff, cold, iron-beams.

Scraps whisper silent languid dreams;

Of emerald which gleams!

Fancy is found,

With mystified colors around,

And luster of death now on ground.

Intertwined there,

In this secret-land I’m aware,

Of this lifes’ mischievous snare;

Moments ‘tween despair.

Glimpse a whimsy,

Shown just ‘yond the forest-dim…see?

Sweet-green: realities flimsy.

For the train comes,

Tarnishing green with black-steel scums,

Taking fancy to reals’ slums,

Through black forests’ numbs.

Stir me to find,

Mirages’ black death swift steam-lined,

By demon conductors’ spell-bind.

Dressed in hells’ fire.

Blistering. Consuming kind acquire.

From dreams grasping peaceful-admire.

For in the head,

Emerald forest-land fancies tread,

Mixed with black trees of days fled.

The train destroys and peace is bled.

I wake in my bed.

K. Aldaya, 2/9/05

Picture: “Infernal Train” from American McGee’s Alice: Madness Returns by Luis Melo: http://www.luismelo.net/?page_id=760;