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