phoenixx
Posts: 12
Joined: 8/24/2005 Status: offline
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3 years ago I had not even heard the term "BDSM". Then I discovered the internet......., that's a whole other story, however, from that discovery came two poems.....both sprung fully formed, and virtually wrote themselves...........the second one arrived a mere 2 months after the first one. I hope they will be self-explanatory, as i also hope there may be some here who will identify with either, or both. ( At the time of writing my nickname was "jenesis") LEGACY Our parents give us building blocks of pain,betrayal,shame. We gather them ,collect them all,pretending it's a game. For they are God, in our child mind, and truth is all they speak. So we are stupid, ugly, dumb,useless, worthless, weak Their truths we use to make more blocks, and from them build a wall. So hurt and shamed, we need to hide and so we build it tall. And with these truths are planted seeds,behind the wall they grow. On pain and shame and hurt they feed: no sunlight do they know. So the child builds high, a tower tall-no gap, no crack, no door. No light, no love may enter here,no feelings any more. Just echos, ghosts and emptiness,a hollow place of pain. With weeds so tall and dark and rank, from years of tears as rain. Tho some build rooms, a door to each to enter and explore, To feel the pain, the hurt, the need,then close the door once more. Yet from these rooms a magic springs, of words so wond'rous fair. Of love and hate and tenderness, of joy and of despair. And some there are, who build their wall,and tend the weeds inside. They nurture hate, and pain, and fear-"God's" truths alone, abide. Imprisoned, bitter, angry , hurt, all unaware what grows. Until the day the walls won't hold-though death, their legacy, knows. AWAKENING I stand amidst the ruins of a shattered ebony tower, surrounded by the dying weeds of pain, bathed by the light of life and hope, washed clean by warm tears like rain. I am scared, terrified, filled with wonder, with joy Naked now without my ebony wall, my skin so pale from the years of dark I may stumble, but I will not fall I will face the light, feel its warmth on my face, so the shadows will fall far behind. With the faltering steps of a newborn, and the hope of an unfettered mind Alone I have been, just an echo, a ghost , to escape, just in circles I ran. Thinking, this time, I'll do it, I'll make it, I am sure I can do it, I can. Then words, like sharp arrows, came flying, piercing ebony walls in their flight. Words of hope, and of joy and of sorrow, bringing sanity, feeling and light. Copyrighted©jenesis, All rights reserved. be well. phoenixx
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