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Posted: 1/31/2012 - 3 comment(s) [ Comment ] - 0 trackback(s) [ Trackback ]

alt

...You saw me mourning my love for you, and touched my hand... I believe in you... I'll give up everything just to find you... I have to be with you... To live, to breathe... You're Taking Over Me... alt


Hello people!

I got bored so I wrote another poem.  I was watching a 2003 interview (I think it was 60 Minutes) earlier this month, and Michael was explaining some of the cruel things he had to go through after being taken to the police department when he got arrested.  I was horrified, and after thinking about it, I wrote a poem about how that experience must've felt like.

I hope you like it!

Michael, I love you! alt  And I love you all!  Bless you all!

 

 

SUCH A FEELING

Such a feeling is ambush;

That wave of fear and that wave of wander.

Where are you going?  What will happen?

And then it hits you as the clamps of shackles take you hostage,

Having no choice but to follow the opressers.

 

Such a feeling is ridicule;

That wave of laughter that hurts and that wave of burning tears.

And then it hits you when you've been locked up in their sick minds,

Mocking you horrifically.

 

Such a feeling is helplessness;

That wave of pain that hits you like a fist in combat and that wave of authority you know you can't escape.

And then it hits you... You're trapped in their filthy trash.

No hope of escaping until you've begged them for mercy.

 

Such a feeling is innocence

That wave of childhood that was never seen and that wave of pain as the hands violently take your shoulders.

And then it hits you, as you look up,

Wondering why... Just.... Why.

 

Did they want to see me like this, so they could stare emotionless at me?

Battered, Scarred, Humiliated?

Did they want to kill me, for their own gain?

In the ground? Cold?  Ashamed?

Did they want to point and laugh, me the pun of their cruel jokes?

Mocked, Opressed, Shunned?

Did they want to see me walk the line, see me behind bars?

Wanted for money?  A laughingstock?  Accusations?

 

Did they just not care at all, what they did to me?

Because it seems like everything I do is taken to a risk.

But that never stopped the love I had for my children of the world, and the darling angels I call my babies, my children.

And I forgive you. 

It's hard to believe that I would considering the torment I went through.

 

alt


-Lydia =)

Posted: 1/25/2012 - 1 comment(s) [ Comment ] - 0 trackback(s) [ Trackback ]

I wanted to share these poems I wrote a little while back.  These poems were inspired by the picture below.  There are two parts.

I hope you like them.  To be honest, writing poetry is one of the most creative things I've ever done, and it's something I am told I do well.. xD

  They were written with Michael completely in mind. alt

Part one was written when I got bored at school and I had nothing to do, part two was drafted the next day and finished the next evening.  I think it was January 12(?) when I wrote part one, the 13th when I wrote part two.

Again, I hope you like them.

JANUARY 29, 2012: I got bored so I wrote a part three with a lingering idea that came to me this morning.  It gets a little intense, so if you're sensitive to pain, I'll suggest you not read it.  I hope you like all three of these poems!

 

THE BRIGHT FIGURE - PART 1
I felt alone
No one was around
I grew sad and cried silently

You sensed my grief,
And came
The Bright Figure
That kneels beside me.

"I have come
To take away the pain.
To let you know, in this time,
I am still here.
To unchain you from the heavy shackles
That bound you to your doubt.
Come, and I will dance with you,
This dance of creation
In the world you never knew was there.
We will laugh and sing together.
And you will know that
You Are Not Alone."

So The Bright Figure
That kneels before me
Will always stay.

And all the pain and grief
Have gone away.


THE BRIGHT FIGURE - PART 2
I felt alone,
And I felt desparate
Because no one understands
How I feel about you.

They take your name
They execute and ridicule it.
Once, you asked, after all that pain,
What's left?

I started to cry,
Silently, once again,
And I was still alone.

Sensing my apparent sadness,
You came to me again,
And The Bright Figure that appears
Kneels before my fragile soul,
And embraces me in LOVE.

"Why do you cry?
You musn't listen to their lies.
You know me well. You know me.
The more you listen,
The more upset you'll get.
Don't let them bring you down.
Come, I will show you
The river of LOVE.
We will dance
The dance of creation."

You rocked me gently,
Cradled under your heartbeat,
And tried to calm me down.

"Shhh... My Child.
It may be hard, but I know you.
You know me.
You are the one I bow to, I kneel before,
To show my gratitude for keeping my LOVE alive,
And I thank you.
Come, we will build a wall.
A wall where only LOVE resides,
And nothing more than the eternal LOVE we know.
Come, we will find a place for you to rest.
You've had a hard day."

You led me to a field of paper flowers,
And lay me down under The Giving Tree.
A blanket made of LOVE
And a pillow that caresses my head ever so gently.

"Your body needs rest, dear.
You can't continue on so long.
Remember not to listen to the lies
That have been said,
Because we know each other enough to know
LOVE conquers all.
You have come,
I will sing to you a song of LOVE and peace.
You will dream,
And dream of wonder.
Dream of comfort.
Dream of LOVE."

Soft voice, so angelic..
Head comfortably against your chest,
In your loving arms.
Swaying back and forth,
Ever so.

"Shhh...
Shhh...
Sleep..."

The Bright Figure that kneels before me,
As my drowsy eyes slump down,
Thank you...
And my eyes close,
As The Bright Figure keeps me safe.

 

THE BRIGHT FIGURE - PART 3

I had a dream one night, and in that dream, I was skinning myself alive.
I had a knife in one hand, slicing places, and then I skinned myself.
Each inch of flesh.
One.
By.
One.
They were watching me.
They wanted to see me in pain, in torment spite myself.
They were watching to make sure I did what they asked me to.
Then the bright figure came to me, and was no longer the beam of light it had appeared to be.
Instead it was an angel I knew so well.
"What in the world are you doing?" he asked.
"They want me to do this." I replied as I tore the skin off my arm, crying in rage and agony.
The blood was so warm.
When I got used to the pain, it didn't really feel like anything anymore.
"Who is They?" he asked. "It's only you and I here."
"Them." I said, looking at the menacing faces around me. "They."
The angel looked at my bloody arm and he looked down. "Why do you do this?"
I said, "Because they said if I didn't do this myself, they would, and it would be as painful as if I do it myself."
I scream to drown out the cruel laughter of the Others watching.
"Please, Stop." the angel said.
"Why should it matter to you? You're not the one in pain." I said back.
"Because," the angel answered, pulling my hand away from my skinned arm. "I feel your hurt, and it's excruciating."
"You shouldn't feel what I feel." I cried. "You shouldn't care."
"But I do care." the angel said quietly.
A long wave of Silence passed us, and the angel threw the knife across the world.
"Stop." he commanded. "Don't hurt yourself anymore."
I cried, as a hand ran over my arm, and it's skin was replenished, as if I was reborn into a new soul, uttering it's first sound to make sure it was alive and knew it was loved.
"There is no They, but only Us." the angel spoke as the scars faded away.
"They scarred and tortured me." I said silently. "I can't be healed."
The angel said otherwise, and carried me in his loving arms.
He took me to a beautiful place, With a lake of purity, and LOVE everywhere.
Thr trees were lush, and the flowers in bloom.
Lilies and roses and sunflowers invaded the grounds around us.
I was still in pain, from when I skinned myself alive.
He made it his goal to heal me.
To nurse me back to health, and comfort me.
As many times as he's "Shh"ed me before, he didn't mind having the sound utter his lips again.
As many times as he's held me safely in his arms, he didn't mind cradling my limp body once again.
As many times as he sang to me, he didn't mind singing to me again.
He just... Didn't seem to mind.
The angel really did love me, and care for me.
And now I know...
There is no They,
But only Us.
And only We.
No I and You.
But We and Us.
So simple.....
"You shouldn't skin yourself alive for everything you regret." The angel spoke softly. "It's not your fault."
At first I didn't believe the Angel but soon enough his voice made me sleepy.
That, my friends, is how much the angel could hypnotize you.
He could change you in an instant, he could turn hate into LOVE.
He changed the world, and made it a better place to the best of his ability,
And taught me that that I could do the same.
The angel, who sang my LULLABY, laid me down comfortably, and I fell asleep...
...Letting his magic of LOVE work on me.
And when I was asleep, dreaming of more happy things,
I woke up.
What a dream inside a dream.
And suddenly, my stuffy bedroom got bright as the sun, and a bright figure kneeled before my bed, where I sit straight in awe.
The bright figure, who was the angel in my dream, took my hand in his, and spoke:
"Child, you have scared yourself.
I'll protect you from the monsters that want you to feel the pain.
I've felt the pain you went through in your dream.
It was me that freed you.
It was me.
Keep me in your heart, and I will protect you.
Keep me in your heart, I will comfort you.
Keep me in your LOVE, and I will LOVE you, like you LOVE me.
These lonely nights are hard to get through, Little One.
I will keep you in my eyes by crafting you a sweet dream.
Crafted by the world's beautiful sights, and the lovliest lullabies, and I will be there, waiting.
Everland awaits us, Child.
But now you must get back to sleep."
I am too frightened to fall back into sleep's unpredictable mess.
You sense that, and embrace me.
...Humming...
The way LOVE binds us has changed me forever.
And I fall asleep, smiling, because you were there.
You are happy to see I am finally Calm, and I am now waiting for you.
Now I kneel to you, my BRIGHT FIGURE, like you kneel to me, the frightened child in her dark bedroom, scared to death to see tomorrow, or even fall asleep at night.
The BRIGHT FIGURE that kneels before me, And the BRIGHT FIGURE I kneel before now, in humble gratitude.
In each other, we are resurrected in one wholeness of joy.
The Brigh Figure will always be here to stay.
And now, all the pain and grief, have gone away.

 

alt

Posted: 1/18/2012 - 1 comment(s) [ Comment ] - 0 trackback(s) [ Trackback ]

It was August, and I was looking up at the sky. With one hand shielding my eyes, I made out a falcon soaring on the currents of hot swirling air. Higher and higher it spiraled, until with one unearthly shriek, it disappeared.
All at once I felt left behind. "Why did you grow wings without me?" I mourned. Then my spirit said, "The falcon's way is not the only way. Your thoughts are as free as any bird." So I shut my eyes and my spirit took off, spiraling as high as the falcon and then beyond, so that I was looking down over the whole earth. But something was wrong. Why did I feel so cold and alone?

"You grew wings without me," my heart said. "What good is freedom without love?" So I went quietly to the bed of a sick child and sang him a lullaby. He fell asleep smiling, and my heart took off, joining my spirit as it circled over the earth. I was free and loving, but still something was wrong.
"You grew wings without me," my body said. "Your flights are only imagination." So I looked into books that I had ignored before and read about saints in every age who actually flew. In India, Persia, China, and Spain (even in Los Angeles!), the power of spirit has reached, not just into the heart, but into every cell of the body. "As if carried aloft by a great eagle," Saint Teresa said, "my ecstasy lifted me into the air."

I began to believe in this amazing feat, and for the first time, I didn't feel left behind. I was the falcon and the child and the saint. In my eyes their lives became sacred, and the truth came home: When all life is seen as divine, everyone grows wings. 

-Michael alt

From his 1992 book "Dancing The Dream"

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