Knuckles white
Heart racing
Could someone be out there
Plotting and taking
My precious, my only
My one simple thing
That keeps me so warm
So warm that it stings
I think I hear voices
Somewhere far out beyond
These four walls which I've built
I sure hope there's no one
Trying. To take. My thing.
I've tucked it below me
Above and beyond me
Somewhere no one else looks
Somewhere deep inside me
For years it's been building
For years it's been growing
It's come to be precious
And I can't resist it
Sometimes it abuses
And locks me in corners
It neglects and mistreats
It punishes, belittles
All those who come close or
Speak up with defiance
I tried to speak out once
Then twice, three times and four
But it hushed me harshly
In prison in my heart
The voices get louder
Somewhere far out beyond
I think someone wants me
To open my door
But outside there is light
Outside there is freedom
I know freedom is bad
My precious thing tells me
It says I should ignore
The voices far beyond
Trying. To take. My thing.
But.
The voices sound friendly
As if they really care
I want to believe it
But they frighten me so
What if I open up
See voices with faces
Will they be kindly ones
Or will they attack me
My precious says don't trust
The unknown which can hurt
My thoughts say don't worry
Could things ever get worse
And would I really care
If voices were out there
Trying. To take. My thing.
A glance 'round behind me
To be sure I'm alone
I mustn't upset it
It's words can shake my bones
A twist of the handle
Sudden burst of white light
The faces are many
Smiling kindly at me
Please come out and join us
We need one more to play
A gravely voice speaks out
Gargling with hatred
"Shut that door, I tell you
You cannot go out there"
I cower at the voice
I should have known better
Smiling, kindly faces
Coming to deceive me
Trying. To take. My thing.
Cow'ring in the corner
Now feeling comforted
The voice, it tries to sooth
"You chose wisely my friend
The outside is evil
It mustn't e'er come in
Fight in every season
Fight for life every day
I am all you need now
I am your one true love"
Then I'm left in silence
Ringing horrible fear
I'm not sure I believe
I must see for myself
If anyone beyond
Out beyond my door is
Trying. To take. My thing.
The door opens with ease
Light floods every corner
Faces merge into one
Smiling it becons me
"Turn around and look in
Something there you should see"
My thing in the corner
Chains bind it to the wall
It is small and broken
A useless lump of mush
The evil voice I feared
Powerless in the light
"It never once bound you"
Friendly voice says to me
"You were not prisoner
You always had freedom
'Twas always yours to choose
All you need do is act
Freedom will come find you
Joyfullness can be yours
When you listen to it
Possibilities start
Now, look, your room is clean
All four walls and the floor
Come out and stay with us
Freedom in full now is yours"
My room looks so empty
But for it I now yearn
When I observe myself
I see my nakedness
Back into the confines
Of my room I must go
I cannot bare freedom
I close the door behind
My room I'm glad to see
Welcomes me back inside
Quietly the voice says
Whispering in my ear
"Fool, you did not listen
You're safer here with me
Sit down in the corner
You must listen closely
You are not for loving
Your heart cannot be free"
Now the silent voice grows
Each syllable enraged
My white walls growing dark
The cleanness gathers grime
I'm resting in comfort
Knowing one thing for sure
No one out far beyond
Will ever come back here
Trying. To take. My thing.
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I still learning the art of poetry and don't know any of the rules. One benefit of that is I don't know what I don't know. I wrote my first novel before anyone told me I couldn't write a novel. Once that word was planted, I've been unable to write one since. No one has yet told me I cannot write poetry so I'm learning and trying and seeing how it works lest I allow that seed to be planted again.
ReplyDeleteWith this poem I wanted to explore syllables. Each line has six. I tried to stay away from rhyming because I didn't want this to be a sing-song sort of poem. I wanted the reader to stumble. When I read it, I focus on each syllable - 1, 2, 3, pause, 4, 5, 6.
I chose six for two reason. First, the first line came to me in six. Second, it's the number for man - 666 being the ultimate number of man, meaning we can never quite fully reach Godly perfection through our own efforts. And that is the message of the poem. If we try to escape our own bondage through our own effort and don't fully allow ourselves to be helped because we still listen to the nagging voices inside, we will ultimately choose bondage over freedom because bondage is what we know.