Anchored:, Ana Suzanne W. [most recommended books .TXT] 📗

other times

When silence was a wished for thing

And no one plotted demise

A place in which we all could dream

Together all as one

A place in which we all could live

Together, harmonized

 

The Vacancy

 

Staring out the window

The empty chair below

The wood cracked with age

The wicker torn

The vacancy in my heart

Swells with every passing glance

Upon the empty chair

Upon which used to sit

My fate.

 

 But all that's left

 Is shattered dreams

 And fear, cold smiles, and tears.

 The moon reflects my dispair

 And the sky reflects my shame

 The wind outside howls around the house

 Where I stand before an empty chair

 And an empty life

 And an empty dream. 

An Ugly Transformation

This was an excercise that we did during a SWAT (Student Writers and Artists Together) meeting.  We looked at a picture and just wrote.  It is a very "compelling" way to write.

 

His eyes black as night

His pale skin white with leprosy

Shrouded by a dirty, unwashed beard and fiery red hair

His glance is sinister

His gaze dejected

The demons inside of him

Begging to be free

The torment he endures being himself

How they laughed at him,

Cursed at him, broke his hard heart

How they hurt him, why don't they see

That in the pursuit of his downfall

They've become what he is.

Seasons I (Eyes)

 

Open eyes

Observant they are

All they can they see

Functioning, magnificent

Staring up at me.

 

Bright eyes

Lovely they are

All they can they see

Beautiful, innocent

Staring up at me.

 

Faithful eyes

Tearful they are

All they can they see

Honest, mature, kindly

Staring back at me.

 

Remembering eyes

Thoughtful - yes they are

All they can they see

Sweet and reminiscent

Staring back at me.

Seasons II "Summer"

 

Summer never was so sweet

As when the sky rained honey

On you and I.

When we were together,

And the rain was gentle,

And the breeze was soft.

When you and I was,

Collectively, us.

When we could call on

Time as not mattering,

When all was perfection.

When we loved all

And all could love us.

Before the dawn set,

And twilight awoke.

When all was perfection,

When the day was still young.

America

How we began was different than most

Oppressed and anxious, our voices stifled

Under the despotic tread of a tyrant

Little of anything had we to boast

We chaged; our desiderium, to the king, was a trifle

Fighting back, was our last course

Reconciliation's rays of hope were gone

In the bitter end, freedom came as the dawn.

After the black of night of war and remorse.

Our own country we became at last;

Moving on, we tucked away the past.

Yet, segregation against fellow creature

Caused the nation to be rent apart

By simple hue and callous hearts.

Shall the war-wounds forever be

Black on the page of history

A bloody, gruesome, rugged feature.

Persons came, people went

Time progressed; poverty wealth, and sentiment.

World Wars engulfed and encumbered

While the scrupulous founding fathers slumbered.

Time progressed, morals waned.

Their slow death did not cause us pain.

What has happened to our valient nation?

No longer can we be valued

As a high and mighty world power

When the morals we portray

Are disregard, unloyalty and frustration.

A friend has become an exquisitely rare flower.

Yet, some steadfast few remain.

We fought for our freedom, we fought for our rights.

Out strength is not measured by military power.

It is measured by the valor we portray in fights

And yet we can still rekindle the flame

And the time we lost we can still regain.

A Night Without Slumber

Outside, the sind screams an angry sort of song

Inside, I've no dreams; oh, the night seems so long.

Listlessly, I stare into the void of my dark room.

"Bury me now," I cry, "Let this be my lonely tomb!"

Thoughts race through my empty mind

Of fate and fortune that I will never find.

A night without slumber, lonely and bare,

Taxes the courage, multiplies the cares.

Never all for Naught

A cry in the black of night-

A howl of dispair-

Originated in the deepest, most hidden,

Places in my soul.

 

Those tears I've cried won't matter

The shame I've born will burden me no more.

For time will press a heavy hand, 

On those places in my soul.

 

The time I've dedicated - all those hours

The tears I cried for you

For they were never cried in vain.

They alleviated your inner pain.

 

I am worn, careworn,

Broken in mind and soul.

For that I have ever loved

Is shattered on the ground.

 

And yet, oh yet, a light still shines 

For you on your horizon.

Take the light; claim the sun!

Dear friend, it was never all for naught!

Another Soul Departed

As a child of eight

I was innocent,

Sheltered from the terrors of death.

I was oblivious to it, 

Yet it surrounded me.

 

For my mother's father's mother

Lived in a nursing home.

As a joyous child of eight,

I was loved by the residents there.

One particular lady, temperamentally sweet, 

Became my very dear friend.

 

Though I may try,

To reach back into the depths of my memory,

I cannot remember her name.  

She would smile at me,

Talk to me, push her walker playfully after me,

Until she was gone.

 

She was weak, yet sweet and optimistic.

A year had passed, I wondered where she was.

I searched, she was gone, another soul departed.

I inquired, she was gone, a sweet soul, another soul departed.

What's Really Going On

What really goes on inside my brain -

Sometimes I think I'm the only one who can't refrain

From shedding some tears every now and then.

Often, I feel like it's all crashing down.

It's like every day, raining on the sun.

I can't see the light through the drops pouring down.

What really goes on, inside my head

No one but me would understand.

I'm all alone, so far from land.

Does nobody seem to know what it's like to be lonely?

In what really goes on...

Nobody but me can feel the pain -

The shame of being me.

I only see the dark when the sun is