Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Christmas in Reverse (sonnet)

It's almost like Christmas, but in reverse.
There are "gifts" to be opened and explored.
Known or unknown, I'm not sure which is worse --
One thing's for certain, I will not be bored!
I wrapped each mem'ry and stowed it away
Because the pain it held was much too great.
The time has come and today is the day --
No more excuses, no more time to wait.
Do I shake each "box" to see what appears?
Do I judge what is inside based on size?
Do I measure the impact based on tears,
Or do I poke and hope with tight-shut eyes?
I must admit, of this I'm most perplexed,
Which "present" shall I choose to open next?

Monday, November 28, 2011

A Journey Just Begun (sonnet)

Eenie, meenie, miney, mo -- just pick one.
The good, the bad, the ugly; all are there.
Nobody said this process would be fun,
But without pain, I won't get anywhere.
Don't want therapy to be my career.
I will do the work that needs to be done,
Break the bonds of trauma that hold me here,
Won't hide from anything or anyone.
Life is too short to live in yesterday,
Far too precious to wallow in sorrow.
No matter what, I'll try to find a way
To always keep focused on tomorrow.
This journey may be one I've just begun,
But I will not give up until I'm done.

Friday, November 18, 2011

What's the Hold Up? (sonnet)

Is it too disturbing, even for you?
Are you afraid of what I have to say?
Are you afraid it's more than you can do?
Are you afraid that you don't know the way?
First you said to wait a little longer.
Then you said we must wait a little more.
All this time the feeling's growing stronger,
The burning urges I cannot ignore.
You said that you could help me sort it out.
You said you had experience with all this.
Well, tell me what the wait is all about?
Is there something important that I missed?
Please tell me that you won't give up on me;
There's no one else to help me through, you see. 

Thursday, November 17, 2011

I Traveled Among You (sonnet)

I traveled among you for thirty years --
We shared stories, we shared wine, we shared bread.
You saw my joy and you witnessed my tears.
You knew I had no place to rest my head.
I never had a home to call my own.
My family preferred to think me dead.
Ignored by most, I often felt alone.
You listened, but rarely heard what I said.
At times my mission seemed quite clear to me,
While at others I doubted who I was.
The crowds clamored for miracles to see --
They asked, "How does he do what he does?"
So many blessings for you to receive;
Yet you had to see the scars to believe.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Replanting (sonnet)

Firmly resolved, I strain under the plow,
Digging each furrow as straight as I can.
I'm really not sure what I'm planting now,
But I'm trying my best to use the land.
I do not know when the harvest will be,
Or if anything will grow here at all.
I guess I will just have to wait and see,
And let the seeds sprout wherever they fall.
Will drought come and destroy my costly crop?
Will storms blow over the plants as they grow?
Will there be floods that no barrier can stop?
These are all things I simply do not know.
I refuse to let this soil lie in waste;
Freedom's fruit is something I long to taste.

Purging My Soul (sonnet)

Greeting memories of days now gone by,
Embracing emotions I could not feel.
Questions remain, and I still don't know why
The pain inside feels so real.
Releasing judgment and giving up blame,
I try to find a way to understand.
There's no reason for me to own this shame.
Letting go, I find a way to stand.
Purging my soul of the trauma within,
White-washing the walls of my heart with peace,
Believing that each trauma had an end,
I can fin'lly find some form of release.
From chaos to cathartic expression,
There's healing in each honest confession.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

A Princess Falls (sonnet)

Once a lovely princess in dawn's new light
Drank a poisoned potion that some call love.
Its venom filled her veins that very night,
But there were some things she wasn't sure of.
She didn't know the pain would start so fast.
She didn't know that death would come so slow,
How long the torture and pain would last,
How incredibly deep the wounds would go.
Her choices were the first to fade away.
Her Self became a shadow on the wall.
She felt herself slipping down more each day,
Until nothing substantial was left at all.
Her castle, a prison without a door.
Her crown, a veil of tears she always wore.