OUT OF YOUR MIND

OUT OF YOUR MIND

Out of your mind
comes a kaleidoscope of emotions.
There they are,
reflected in your eyes ...
swirling shape-shifters,
an evil elegance of rampant rage
and redundant resignation.

Out of your mind
it all comes,
a kaleidoscope spewing forth
in the motions of a body
no more than a bag of bones
wrapped in skin ...
fist shaking
feet stamping ...
an overwhelming helplessness
trapped in time.

Imagine what it could be
if it wasn't
dark and dismal,
tantalizingly tempting ...
the desire to dance
with the status quo.
Imagine what it could be
if it wasn't
so ravishingly depressing
to simply
be.

Out of your mind
comes a kaleidoscope of lunacy
forming at your lips,
flowing from your mouth ...
fluid river of words -
only nonsense -
evil elegance
of madness.

mebw
7/21/13

Image from
http://art.ngfiles.com/images/185/aslemn_this-is-madness.png

WANDERING HOME threefold mesh

WANDERING HOME … threefold mesh

wandering . . . . . . . . . . . . . I find my way
and though I am lost . . . . . . among the stars
night skies call and . . . . . . . . .I come home
searching . . . . . . . . .for comfort and relief
I stumble, sometimes . . . . . to pick my Self up
to helplessly tumble . . . . . . .and begin again
into the black abyss . . . . . . there is a light
I stretch open my arms . . . . . .to help my Self
I grasp helplessly at . . . . . .one shining star
something . . . . . . . . . . . .that leads me on
I sink then . . . . . . . lifted into the heavens
I willingly drown, yet . . . . . . I fear nothing
in my dreams . . . . . . . . . . . . .I am strong
wandering . . . . . . . . . . . I stand my ground
searching my soul . . . . . . . .I have a purpose
I am breathless . . . . . . . . . . . . I am home

mebw
7/15/13



http://gavrielmuse.com/2013/04/12/poetry-form-threefold-mesh-triple-malla/

IN THE END --- Navarrette Quatrain

IN THE END
(Thanks Len Gesinski for the form)

In the end it is our hopes
that bring us through another day
when trials and tribulations
leave us feeling frayed.

In the end, we are the future;
the past, already done.
And in this present moment
the future can be won.

In the end, it is you and I
who will decide our fate.
We look without, we look within,
desires accumulate.

In the end, we are only our dreams,
our hopes, turned into flowers.
What we desire the future holds,
within you and I, the power.


mebw
© 7/13/13

http://gavrielmuse.com/2012/09/19/how-to-write-a-navarrette-quatrain/comment-page-1/#comment-2615

ocean wave haiga

sunflower haiga

gardenia haiga

FALLING RITUALS

FALLING RITUALS

We love
quietly now.
Passion's fires
are reduced to glowing embers.
It is dusk,
and evening
and its darkness
with its scent of jasmine,
is approaching.

A kiss at the door,
one brief embrace,
a cuddle at night ...
rituals, leaving traces
of love in their wake.

Falling into habits, now
together, we are growing
older,
but not yet
wiser.

Falling,
rituals give us
peace,
we are
secure
in the gentle knowing
that together
we are lovers
who have passed
times' test.

We enjoy the ember glow
and fall
into another
ritual of love.


mebw
© 7-4-13

LEADING, THE BLIND

LEADING, THE BLIND ...
(a combination of topics)

Leading, the blind go forward
with a nonchalance
that is breathtaking.
They know not
of the dangers ahead,
free of vision's chains
they surge forward,
fearless,
into a blackness they know
and love.

Their blindness
is inconsequential
to the path before them.
They ask only
that the path be
trusted.
Smoothing rough edges
along the way,
leading to a place
that exists
only in their darkness,
their forward march
will not be hindered
nor thwarted.

The subtle shifts
of greys and blacks
do not prey upon
visions imagined
behind unseeing eyes.
A new perspective
is born.
A new melody
seen.
An new journey
waits
for those who allow themselves
to be led
by the blind.


mebw
© 6/25/13

LIFE IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE

LIFE IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE

You are gone,
living your life
in a parallel universe
where our hands
and our lips
never touch.
You speak,
I hear your voice
but the words are strange
and I don’t understand.
I sing,
but the melody gets lost
in the space
and the words garbled
by time.
I see you
as if reflected
by a mirror of my own creation.
Nothing else has changed,
your days are still the same.
The only thing missing
is me.

Mebw
© 6/24/13

WHEN I DON'T WANT THE WORLD TO SEE ME

WHEN I DON'T WANT THE WORLD TO SEE ME

I have a mask.
It has a painted on smile
and wide, friendly eyes.
There is a small basin at the bottom
to catch my tears.

I have a recording,
my voice from brighter days ...
cheerful, pleasant.
The sing-song lilt hides
the catch in my throat.

I have a costume.
I am a circus clown
and all the world laughs
at me, with me, it matters not.
When I don't want the world to see me

I simply put on my facade
and in the dark
I cry.

mebw
© 6/24/13

ON THE VERGE OF YEARS

ON THE VERGE OF YEARS

She is just fourteen, and thinks she knows
all there is to know about life, and she shows
it off in an off-hand kind of comment
about the state of the world, and we should lament
these grim times ...
on the verge of years
way beyond her time.

She is twenty-five, not that old at heart
growing up too fast, wants a new start
a chance for a life that works out for a change
finding it hard to leave that fast lane ...
not yet her time ...
on the verge of years
falling back into time.

More than fifty is she, with grey in her hair
two not so young children still in need of her care
but the loneliness that comes in the dead of the night
cannot be filled by children in her sight
sad, sad, times
past the verge of years,
the ending of time.

mebw
© 6/9/13

STILL WAITING

STILL WAITING

Here I sit,
still,
waiting for something
to move me.

Heavy
with fear,
with sadness,
with a hollowness
that is breaking me
I am paralyzed ...
still waiting.

Waiting
for some change,
some grand turn of events,
some word of wisdom
(or comfort)
that still never comes.

I simply sit,
still,
still here,
waiting simply
to not be
still here ...
still waiting.


mebw
6-7-13

TO SISTER ONESELF

TO SISTER ONESELF

I come from within my Self
there is the seed
I planted
long before I became
ME.

I continue to journey
loving my Self
along the way.
I offer kind thoughts
to my past,
send forth dreams
to my future,
love my Self
in this present.

In an eternal dance
I go step
by precious step.
I celebrate Me ...
I embrace who I am.

I leave a bit of Me
behind ...
to sprout
to grow
to bloom
in her own time

Embraced by the All
of Me.


for you! My Soul Sister
Sharron Katz!
mebw
© 6/2/13

BROKEN BALLERINA

BROKEN BALLERINA

She aches
reaching for dreams
just beyond her grasp
on tip-toes balancing
until she tumbles
gasping for breath
empty handed
and dreamless.

She cries
washing in tears
the blood that stains
her slippers
broken and mangled
dancing feet no longer able
she stumbles with each step
falling broken
to the floor.

She dances
twirling in her mind
leaping over puddles
that do not exist.
Broken ballerina
trembling in fear
what new pain
what new tears
will tomorrow's dance bring.

mebw
© 6/1/13

4 A.M.

4 A.M.

It's 4 a.m.
It would be quiet
if it were not for the silence
screaming in my heart
as the blood there boils ...
rushes to where
I do not want it to go.

This is what a lunatic feels.

The drum banging in my chest
is some demon
wreaking havoc with my heart
tearing apart
the very fabric of my being.
The thoughts that race 'round
my brain only think one will wim
first place.

They have been fooled.

It's 4 a.m.
and other thouths
have already made the race
from here to there
and back again.
And in the silent pounding
the winner declared ...

I must die.

And at 4 a.m.
the lunatic agreed.

mebw
© 5/15/13

NaPoWriMo # 24 LETHAL ELEGANCE

LETHAL ELEGANCE

He sits there on the sill
waiting to make a kill
still thinking of the thrill
that will bring him
new life.

He watches and he waits
for some thing to take the bait
hating that his fate
on this date may
bring strife.

He struts, he coos
oozing pure elegance
visage of defiance.
He will roam, combing
the greenery for some
bit of scenery that moves ...
his clue to strike.

Strike he does ...
And there, in the back
viewing his rapid attack
waits the lady in black
there is never a lack in her life
of lethal elegance.

mebw
© 4/24/13

SIRENS IN THE NIGHT

SIRENS IN THE NIGHT

Dark sky and swirling cloud
... thunder rages, screams out loud
falling raindrops drench the crowd
umbrellas explode in silence.

Darkness did not come this night
when all tired souls were filled with fright
and lightning flashes ripped with hot light
across the screaming skies.

After midnight the world asleep
behind locked doors, sweet dreams to keep
suddenly shocked into a sobbing heap
with the sirens in the night.

Sirens to warn of danger near
sirens to warn, to raise the fear
sirens to wake, even the dead can hear
the sirens in the night.

mebw
© 4-18-13
for my Mom, Kay Balletto.

Haiku --- Response

amidst the anguish
terror .. tears .. broken bodies
stretches out the hand

mebw
© 4/15/13
response to Boston Marathon Bombings

NaPoWriMo #14 I NEVER MEANT TO MAKE YOU CRY

I NEVER MEANT TO MAKE YOU CRY

I don't understand
these puddles at your feet,
the streaks down your face.
Why are you running down the street?

I just took your hand,
it was time to say good-bye,
time to reach for other stars.
Did you want me to lie?

This was so unplanned,
it was only just a fling,
just a way to pass the time.
It really did not mean a thing,
to me.

But here you are with puddles,
running away from this good-bye.
Please, understand, it was just a game.
I never meant to make you cry.


mebw
© 4-14-13

NaPoWriMo 4-6 Inspiration from Bud Silvernail and Cookie Monstah

STILL FLIGHT

Locked inside myself
There is a terror that I feel.
Frantically I search the world around me;
Nothing now seems real.

But, the fear keeps hammering
A silent rhythm in my brain,
Beckoning to my timid soul,
Laughing later in disdain.

Reality flees, insanity takes hold,
Deafening drums the night.
I stay here, locked inside myself
escaping - in still flight.

mebw
© 4-6-13

FALLING IN LOVE 12/15/12

FALLING IN LOVE

Your eyes caress me.
I can feel them
As they move over every letter,
Every word,
Every space of my being,
And I gasp.

I feel your breath
flow over the page,
a warm summer breeze
to breathe life
into dormant passions.

Breathe again!
Oh, please,
Breathe again!

I cannot bear the thought
That soon you will finish,
And you will leave,
Perhaps to never return.

Will I not leave my mark on you?
Will I not captivate your heart?

I do not want you to leave,
Please, not yet.
Just stay a moment longer,
Read me,
One more time.

Michelle Balletto-Wooten
© 12/15/12

SESTINA --- DARK TIL DAWN

DARK TIL DAWN

It was dark when I heard him,
A quiet, distant, rustling at the door.
Though the night was velvet, I did panic -
Strange night noises leave me gasping for breath.
Blinded and disoriented I crept
Along the walls, hoping to see him now.

I will wait for daylight now
As the darkness lingers I can't see him.
Deep into the shadows I think he's crept,
Hiding from the light 'til he finds the door
To freedom. He'll have to wait, hold his breath
While the air gets heavy. I can't panic.

There's never time to panic
Unless I give myself the freedom now
To feel anxiety in every breath.
The darkness keeps lurking; I can't find him.
Even though I look through the open door
I cannot see the place where he once crept.

There! I saw, watched as he crept
Between shadows and light. I saw panic
As suddenly he bolted for the door,
Agitated - running for darkness now.
There's no doubt, though, light surely will find him.
As the dawn breaks, he cannot catch his breath.

Silently, I hold my breath.
I am tired, watching as the dawn has crept
Across the sky. And soon it will touch him.
What wintry thoughts will cross his mind? Panic
Is not natural; it is what he now
Has. Again I wait, gazing through the door

Into the dawn. A new door
Will soon open, we both will catch our breath
And breathing, we will find our future now
Is present, that in the waiting it crept
Upon us - wanting, willing, our panic ...
Contemplating this future, I watch him

Moving through the door, dawn's light catches him -
He's holding his breath, holding his panic.
There's nothing now, night into day has crept.


mebw
© 4-3-13

NAPOWRIMO #3 WIND

NAPOWRIMO # 3

WIND

Dust and leaves swirl through the door
Nasty mess upon the floor.

Someone else will have to clean
I am caught here, in between

What I must do and what I want ...
To run and play I'd like to flaunt.

So wind, take your silly self away!
I refuse to clean, today.


mebw
© 4/3/13

caress

branches' end
tender new leaves shivering
winter caress

mebw
© 1/17/13

waiting

so here we are
waiting for a spark to fly
waiting for the flames

.. but waiting without action
.. is like praying .. without faith

mebw
© 1-16-13

some emotion

fervently breathless
anxiety ... nervousness
energy burst ... ahhhh
.
it has pounced upon my skin
I just have to let it in!

mebw
© 1/17/13

Winter Night Truncated Klein Bottle Haiku

winter night

greyish clouds in blackest sky
halos of moonlight
hooting owls cast their shadows
rustling leaves say they have left
their calls become faint
dropping temperatures bring frost
frost turns to ice on cars
ice blocks ones' vision
dizzying snowfall appears
each flake is lost in the fall
winter night takes hold
again

mebw
© 1/17/13
Dedicated to Dana Robert Rowe

Dana invented this form he calls a "Truncated Klein-Bottle Haiku". It has 71 syllables.

Camelot - 2

Camelot thinking
only purity survives
in the distance ... lies

mebw
© 1/18/13

Camelot

without Camelot
the driving force is power
desire to control


mebw
© 1/18/13

synanthy

usually separate
together for this moment
existence questioned

mebw
© 1/19 13

anger senryu

just some hushed voices
cacophony of anger
playing piano

accented sounds bruise the air
relief arrives in silence

mebw
© 1-19-13