It is hidden.
From the outside,
You can’t tell.
But from the inside,
Looking out,
You know it’s there.
How can something,
So small, so covered,
Be so destructive?
It will take you from us,
Make you leave us, and
There is nothing we can do to make it stop.
Just know this,
This one thing,
That wherever this,
Thing,
May take you,
Wherever you may go,
There will always,
Always,
Be someone here at home,
Who will miss you.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Migrations Haikus
Floating, falling leaves,
Brush the flying bird’s feathers,
On chilly autumn days.
Fly on, chirping bird,
Until you reach your haven
Beyond the mountains.
Flap your silent wings,
Owl of tall, shrouded pine trees.
Be wary, small bird.
White and cold moonlight,
Shows feathers on the hard ground.
The bird flies no more.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
Brush the flying bird’s feathers,
On chilly autumn days.
Fly on, chirping bird,
Until you reach your haven
Beyond the mountains.
Flap your silent wings,
Owl of tall, shrouded pine trees.
Be wary, small bird.
White and cold moonlight,
Shows feathers on the hard ground.
The bird flies no more.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
Even Her Brain Betrayed Her
Even her brain betrayed her,
Her thoughts do not make sense.
Her mind is full, yet empty,
And her words, a garbled mess.
Her mind has become worthless,
A lump of flesh in a shell of bone,
It left her to pursue its own fancies,
It left her screaming, and alone.
Even her brain betrayed her,
Made her muscles twitch and tighten,
Her fingers curl and arch themselves,
With no hope of release on the horizon.
Her mind has become worthless,
A mass of blood inside her head,
Sending mild electric signals,
Telling her what she’s done and said.
Even her brain betrayed her,
Causing images to appear.
Pictures that do not exist,
Make her eyes wet with tears.
Her mind has become worthless,
Lays a trail of scathing screams.
Lashing out at those who try to help,
And at those who invade her dreams.
Even her brain betrayed her,
Allowed her freedom beyond normality,
Escape from the prison of her malformed thoughts,
And to roam past all physical boundaries.
Her mind has become worthless,
Making her turn upon herself.
Clawing, scratching, biting her skin,
Leaving sanity high on its shelf.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
Her thoughts do not make sense.
Her mind is full, yet empty,
And her words, a garbled mess.
Her mind has become worthless,
A lump of flesh in a shell of bone,
It left her to pursue its own fancies,
It left her screaming, and alone.
Even her brain betrayed her,
Made her muscles twitch and tighten,
Her fingers curl and arch themselves,
With no hope of release on the horizon.
Her mind has become worthless,
A mass of blood inside her head,
Sending mild electric signals,
Telling her what she’s done and said.
Even her brain betrayed her,
Causing images to appear.
Pictures that do not exist,
Make her eyes wet with tears.
Her mind has become worthless,
Lays a trail of scathing screams.
Lashing out at those who try to help,
And at those who invade her dreams.
Even her brain betrayed her,
Allowed her freedom beyond normality,
Escape from the prison of her malformed thoughts,
And to roam past all physical boundaries.
Her mind has become worthless,
Making her turn upon herself.
Clawing, scratching, biting her skin,
Leaving sanity high on its shelf.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
There He Sits
There he sits, eyes glazed over,
Unmoving, silent,
Not even a blink,
From his dull, unseeing eyes.
We do not know if he knows
What we say or do to help him
Through his silence,
Through his loneliness.
He never thanks us, or even says a word,
To acknowledge what we do.
He cannot let us know,
How much we really help.
Sometimes he will grunt,
But we know that it means nothing,
That it is only,
A trick of fate.
His wheelchair remains motionless,
He does not wish to move,
Or if he does,
How could we tell?
His skin is pale, hair lank,
He does not care to bathe.
He never sees a soul, why would he?
He has no one in this world.
His body has betrayed him,
Left him to fight this on his own,
He drools,
Because he has nothing better to do.
There he sits, day in and out,
Unmoving, alone,
Not even a blink,
From his dull, unseeing eyes.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
Unmoving, silent,
Not even a blink,
From his dull, unseeing eyes.
We do not know if he knows
What we say or do to help him
Through his silence,
Through his loneliness.
He never thanks us, or even says a word,
To acknowledge what we do.
He cannot let us know,
How much we really help.
Sometimes he will grunt,
But we know that it means nothing,
That it is only,
A trick of fate.
His wheelchair remains motionless,
He does not wish to move,
Or if he does,
How could we tell?
His skin is pale, hair lank,
He does not care to bathe.
He never sees a soul, why would he?
He has no one in this world.
His body has betrayed him,
Left him to fight this on his own,
He drools,
Because he has nothing better to do.
There he sits, day in and out,
Unmoving, alone,
Not even a blink,
From his dull, unseeing eyes.
Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)