Saturday, January 29, 2011

A Painful Adolescence In Poetry: Preface

A Painful Adolescence In Poetry.

I didn't have much as a teen; and I had big dreams. From a broken home, with a sick mother and very little money; I had come to the place of a shattered heart. So I left school at 14, moved from place to place and job to job. One of the only things I had with me at all times was my poetry journal.

The skills I acquired, and the feelings I expressed both kept me alive and led me to my life's passion; composing and singing music. As I read back I realize what could've been and what wasn't. The potential, without the support and stability. There is some grief.

Eventually, the woman who I had to become regressed into a reckless party girl. I barely survived that. My life was threatened and now my health has come to be sensitive. However; being forced to be healthy is the greatest blessing-in-disguise gift that can be given. I have learned a great deal about the wonders of natural health. I look back on the things I thought I knew; and realized I had fallen through the cracks…

Today I know that I have, and have always had, Asperger Syndrome. I'm beginning a new beginning. For my body, for my family, for the music and with hope that others can one day benefit from my experiences. The girl in this poetic memoir is a dark, sullen shadow, crying quietly behind me. I hope to put her to some rest, by releasing these words from her heart.


Year 1998/99: Age 13-Gotta Break Away from Broken

(First and only year of high school)
Where is mine?

Do I want to try today
must I listen to what you say
I cannot change what is not mine
I cannot decide, demean or define
I cannot quell my ambitious ways
how long are the days I wander this maze
to the end of the line
where is mine?

Lonely

The beach is wet sandpaper
And the shore is spilled champagne
the sun is free fire in an airless atmosphere
and the warm evening breeze
gently strokes her face
for she is alone on this island
although she has animals around her
and the people are gone
she'll be healthy and strong
til the solitude slowly kills her


If...

A frustrated girl
if she lost of her will
a shrill cry would pierce eardrums
and bitter blood would spill
she'd be brought to the attention of those
supposed to love her
a screaming inflection
a plea for affection
now held at the mercy
of the angels at the gate


My Little Corner

There I sat in my little corner
staring up at the world
and the wide open door
moving forward an inch
and back one, to cringe
raindrops fell
and the impossible called
to say "move out you must;
little corner, collect dust"


We Spin

Dawn after dawn
we spin, we spin
as we share our light
east to west

And from young to old
we live and die
on life's path,
we walk along

At the heart of the path
we'll love and cry
and try to make the best
of what is

Cause what is shapes the road
the good, the bad
and time
and how long is that?

And as time flows on
we'll rise and fall
the race will go on
or is it a race?

And as we struggle for breath
we're behind and ahead
but to God
we are who we are


The Bad Book

She's wearing silk lace
to match her pretty white face

That girl is a disgrace!
for her heart has no sense
she drapes herself in gifts
at other people’s expense

While she doesn't care for them
she's a flower with no stem

A bad book with a lovely cover
needing discipline from her mother



Copyright © N.M.Rose Guedes 2011 (originals 1998 and 1999)

Year 2000: Age 14-Cross Over To Survival

(Mom got sick, I ran away from school and eventually home, too)


Land Of the Midnight Sun
The river runs
is sure to flow
as blue, as crisp
under happiness glow

In summer cool and fresh
in winter specked with ice
run away with your heart
keep the memory light

The meadow blooms with daisies
and berries shaped like bells
laughing is the child
as he runs toward the fells

With this everlasting charm
our hearts can beat as one
with closed eyes we smile and whisper
"Land of the Midnight Sun"


Dropping Out (of school)

I heard it once it rang times three
pointlessly so dear to me

'Twas black and white
but then so blue
I couldn't do what they could do

So I lie on this hammock
think, think, thinking
'bout splendors…
as the stars are blinking

Round the next morning
I'm still awake
but shaking afraid
of what is at stake


Utopian Lie

He watched it and he cheered aloud
to show the colour, you do the task
with shining glory and laughing crowd
and the face behind the smiling mask

The hungry, eager on a rock
trying to grow on the waves
and as the exterior that fades
to destroy the hearts and rise the spades
To bar out the windows and shut out the light
then light their torches; holding high
oh, with all their Utopian might
as they all stand and live; The Lie


Illogical

Standing in the rain
walking through the meadow, conscious
hear the river run
it speaks of presence, not of function

Crying in the rain
soaking, dripping, pining
asking
can't you feel my pain?
responseless
as you keep on shouting

Running in the wind
laughing as it pushes gently
fearful as it pulls and pins
and whispers quietly

Drifting in the clouds
rising, sinking, as we lie
mindful, making vows
and begging for an answered day


Dying With The Sun

Heat
I am shaking
entranced
afraid

The rain
is falling
won’t shine
like the dew

As I wonder
where is
an answer

To my questions
or are they just questions?

Or stones
to step on
jagged
not smooth

For now it seems
like the clock won't stop ticking


For better or worse
I lie on the floor


Like a lion
so angry

Like a kitten
so helpless

Like a piece of me
is dying with the sun


A Soul Shining Through

The window to the soul
may gleam when beckoned
and from inside to out
your soul must wear

all colours that are yours
not red, not blue
not something you can see
not theirs, your true

original and once,
not theirs, yours only

And see you shall the light
when you know your colours
and lift you, shall the light
when you show your colours


Clear Water

Clear water
transparent and blue
asks your soul
to unsurface what's true

Clear water
if kept as created
reflects the sun
not the hatred

Clear water
reveals cast shadows
fishing hooks
and messages channeled

Clear water
is now scarcely found
in the quest for indulgence
we shall risk being drowned


The Mirror Has Shattered

The mirror has shattered
on the floor
the image uncertain
the lock on the door

Oh, my feet are numb
and my hands are cold
my lips are chapped
and my visions behold

To a sun that's indifferent
and hidden by rain
as I cry for the feelings
that I can't explain

I wanted to help myself
but hurt took control
and self-destruction
is now on a roll

Copyright © N.M.Rose Guedes 2011 (originals 2000)

Year 2001-Age 15: Bittersweet Frustrations

One More Taste of Innocence

Father, don’t you know that I am weeping
over things I never guessed could happen

If I could only be a little girl again
dancing in the summer wind
laughing, playing shake-a-paw with Sasha
and crying only over my skinned knee…

Father, being a woman’s not easy
especially when all I've wanted to be
is a perfect child on your shoulders

Scenic and pleasant
with Mother,
and ice cream

Not here in the dark
I'm afraid of the dark
And I want one more taste
of innocence


Impossible

Burning, burning
my head’s turning
hoping, praying,
spirit breaking

Pining for impossible
reaching for implausible
making, shaking
time and taking

Burning, turning
painful learning
teasingly not feasible
in every single way

Hoping, praying
spirit breaking
I have lost the day


Lady Jane

Young and bright
and pure as light
she was thrust on the throne
after family passed

And so she learned to love
her arranged spouse
and then they flew passion
aroused by ideas

To bring goodness to a land
embittered with bloodshed
blame, shame and guilt
and sly, crooked clergy

While thousands lay begging
they brought back the shilling
and put bread in their hands
but one would not stand for it…
The Roman Catholic Mary

And so they were taken
into a dark tower
where they had nothing, no one
no one, but each other

Bodies embodied
with love for Heaven
broken free of stringence
as the guillotine fell


Stop and listen

Stop
to hear the sound of people chatting
Stop
to hear the words
that they are saying
Stop
to pass the words
and listen to the tone
Stop
to pass the noise
and hear the breeze flow
Stop
to hear your body
the footsteps
all your movements
Stop
to feel the sunlight, feel it shining through
Stop
to look past the clouds
and hear your own heartbeat
Stop
to hear the rhythm
your individual rhythm
Stop
to hear the notes, the notes of your breath
Stop
and hear a song from this
Stop
and hear what's in the song
But, Just, Stop:
to hear a song, by you
with harmonies from God


Where is my voice?

Where is my voice?
it comes and goes
with all my woes
or woe is me
contradictory regards
this hypocrisy of cards
to you, to me
and…
where is my voice?


Butterflies

Flitter, flutter
but never stutter
keep inside
those butterflies
lock them, bury them
suppress them
and
let them help you
fly...


Overcast Light

Serene, the window
through overcast light
the shadows, none
the quiet, not quite

Grey, with light
singing delight
the birds came to perch
through imminent might

Loving to want
to love, and to not
the overcast light
is beauty contrite

Swept into the night
admiring the stars
through clouds and contraction
I see only fractions
of my destined actions …

And I think of my dreams
and I long for the means
to look them in the eyes
and demolish their disguise


Plastic World

Pain
I register is all ways as
feelings that don't always appeal
to the plastic, plastic, plastic world

With walls that are chemical
crooked and cracked
with sparkles adorned
though ceilings are packed

But away from their eyes
are all their true lies
as they fix with their left
until nothings' left


Empty-Hearted Ocean

Most things that are in my head
connect straight to my heart
it seems a clever endeavor
a journey much apart

From sameness
of the game-S
yes, that functioning factory
of Satisfactory

Or even less..
the people
that just talk and gab
they talk and gab
and all of glib

On the surface
of this empty hearted ocean
where I must swim profusely
with this tank on my back


Glass

I have so much to see
I have so much to learn
there are so many little things
that make the fire burn

For young love is but understood
by only hearts that deeply beat
in passing
through the darkness

Broken down, and near defeat
there's now a silent wanting
that cannot be quite be reached
the moonlight’s light is blazing bleak
as all the lies are preached

I can't help be astounded
that great things become rotten
turned upside down but grounded
the real loves' not forgotten

I'll suffer in frustration
I'll want angels to take me
but in time I'll pick up the glass
and swear
It will not break me


Conscious wish

When I see sunrise for real
and smell sweet grass
in my front yard
I'll feel the air and
I’ll feel the real deal
I'll feel the truth flow
through
unbarred


The First Week Of September

The first Week of September
time to begin again
with sulking oak tree branches
their leaves their dying friends

Above the mighty mountains
the iridescent rays shine
powerfully upon them
preluding the ways of time

The breeze blows in a whisper
and tells us to remember
it’s song of summer’s last grace
in the first week of September

Copyright © N.M.Rose Guedes 2011 (originals 2001)


Years 2002/03: Ages 16-17: Mourning the Child and Losing Oneself in Another

A period of time where I was engrossed in a dark and and co-dependant relationship, as well as making a recovery from its' end.

During this time there was no poetry written, but it was a time when I began to really write songs. Most of these songs were merely learning experiences rather than usable. However, here are the few that I have salvaged and am thinking of actually using along with my current material.


Somewhere Down Here

Somewhere Down Here/beneath the hidden stones/I'm watching you dance with the wind/encompassing your throne/and do I admit to my desire?/for my shame fuels the fire

Oh, I want a piece of you/I want a taste of wine and glamour/I am shattered somewhere down here


Somewhere down here/I'm cheated and alone/watching you as you're allowed/to be your age at home/and do I admit I want to go home/back where my heart wants to know

Oh, I want a piece of you/I wanted one more taste of childhood/better be good/Somewhere down here

Some people make you feel like/nothing more than a scrub on the sidewalk/and some people take for granted what they have and own/ and I can't see why/ but still, I feel stupid sometimes…

Somewhere down here/I'm dying to be heard/watching your red carpet grow/my own red carpet blurred/ and do I admit; sometimes I hate you/your troubles, I cannot relate to/

oh, I want a piece of you/I want a piece of you/ ‘cause I don't wanna be/Somewhere down here...


Farewell, My Dear, Good Luck

So this is it/I know I lost myself in you/I don't know why I even give a shit about you/and as you go I feel ripped apart/but I know it’s my own fault for giving you my heart/ I tried to take the consequences of your actions/I tried to sacrifice myself for your stupidity/I tried to make myself be like a saint/ but now: I am asking myself if I have gone insane

Go and take all you've brought/Go home and sit and rot/in all the hate you've got/hey, its' sad/’cause baby I have been blind/ and baby you were unkind/ the truth is; you’ve been outta line/all this time/ I'll always care somewhere in my heart/but I can't let you rip me apart/farewell, my dear, good luck

So, this is it now/all that love and hate behind me/after three years you don’t know anything about me/so strange to feel both devastated and relieved/left to pick up all the pieces of love once believed/no longer will your angry eyes burn into mine fixated/no longer will I be so damn underappreciated/no longer will I be Miss Therapist/and now/ now I ask myself/what the hell was this?

Go and take all you've brought/Go home and sit and rot/in all the hate you've got/hey, its' sad/and baby I have been blind/ and baby you were unkind/ the truth is; you’ve been outta line/all this time/ I'll always care somewhere in my heart/but I can't let you rip me apart/farewell/my dear, good luck


Ricochet

He left me all alone/my little wounded soul/and I saw you standing there/I didn't quite invite you in/but yet you gave me your heart and pulled up a chair/and out of the dark/we talked about art/we talked about love/and breaking apart/you were my new best friend
we squandered the time/we tasted the wine/we never thought such a friendship a crime/though ‘twas around the bend

and/ “I love you more than you know”/ is what I said with all the wine in me/and “oh, please say it isn't so”/ is what you said/and now you hide from me/you denied me

I love you half angry /and you're on my mind still/but no longer like that at all/those fantasies in my head came from transference/when you came to break my fall/you're insensitive/with nothing to give/why should I even be thinking; what if?/we both know it’s not meant to be?/wanting what you got/wanting what you're not/wanting what we know almost got to hot/’cause my memories still haunt me/you see

And /“I love you more than you know”/ is what I said with all the wine in me/and “oh, please say it isn't so”/ is what you said/and now you hide from me/you denied me



Inertia

I close my eyes/I’m now humming a tune/lost and confused/on a tuesday afternoon/I’m finding that I’m falling/yeah/I’m falling/yeah/I’m falling/yeah/I’m falling/yeah/and time’s passing me by too soon

Hiding behind walls I gotta break through/I’m stupi-fied/I don’t know what to do/around again/and ‘round again/and ‘round again/and round again/I’ll encircle this tiny room/only in my dreams do I escape this doom

In them I’d walk on the moon if I could/The imminence always feels so good/I’m flying/With the sound of my own rhythm/Then the wind whispers to me/You’ll have the wings of destiny/keep on soaring/and you’ll find your Edge of Heaven

In my dreams/In my dreams

Copyright © N.M.Rose Guedes 2011 (originals 2002/03)