Swallow

This thing,

it suits you,

but she swallowed

and wiped away her glow

the blues, they suit you too

There’s a pill for everything

a pill for happiness

a pill for madness

a pill for killing.

I grow tired of getting older

I no longer want to do these things,

make these decisions,

but at least we can drink wine together.

I tell her she looks pretty

in her bare feet

and long dress

I love her still,

but the loss has touched me too.

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the last of days

We seek the darkness
thunderstorm funerals
muddy American flags
and trains off their tracks
I loved the picture of you out in the water
the wind made your hair wild
Nothing lasts…
I caught a blue glass-eyed wink
and a toothless grin
through the slow rising twirl of cigarette smoke and green flesh
I could smell the decay on your brain
It was a rainy day
when they put you in the ground.
Everything is open wounds now
and a bland thanksgiving dinner sucked through a straw
We forgot somehow, how to laugh
Could have been the slow drip of morphine
or the simple way our bones cracked.
Death dragged his heavy feet
as real life licked me
like a sandpaper tongue
Reminded me I am just the nameless meat
between the lion’s teeth
and we all die alone.
In black in white she sat
her legs demurely crossed
with her crooked cat eyed glasses
Tell me about your chaos lady,
the bloody slashes across your face
your dead baby sister
at the bottom of the outhouse.
It’s no wonder 
in the end we all go mad.
Would it be ok if I took this gloom
and weaved it into some hideous mask?
I will hide behind it for the rest of my days. 
H.M. Nolan 2015

Unconditional Love

The Haunted Lullaby

Unconditional Love

I know the day is near,

Time for final goodbyes,

I never imagined it this way,

I thank you for the companionship,

What you brought each day,

Heart filled with unconditional love,

A shining light through the darkest of days,

I know my actions are right,

But guilt stands in the way,

I know I have to do this,

I want to say I am sorry,

But I know I’m freeing you from pain.

Photo courtesy of pinterest

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A moment once….

.

I fought hard to get there ~ knowing

time was not on our side.

driving miles of highway

and

sifting through millions of thoughts in my mind.

.

I had to see her,

touch her

and

stroke her soft silver hair ~ feel

the warmth of her breath

and

listen

to the rhythm of her heart.

.

I wanted so much to hold

onto the beauty of her soul ~ wrap

my arms around her tightly ~ ~ ~

never let go……………..

but…

She was present for my sunrise,

I was present for her sunset

and

in between it all ~ we lived

as

mother and daughter.

.

.

.

In response to the Poetry Challenge for the week of May 11th…

.

Weekly Challenge May4 – Duets – “Hell’s Hand Satchels”

Written by Mockingbird Down and Americana Injustica

“Why do we sit at this table, my Friend?
in the back of the bar behind the pirate’s curtain,
I believe that we somehow have each been,
on separate paths to the same trouble, again;
these kinds of places mean only one thing,
the scars on our faces are rather telling,
now let’s drink and divulge in our comradery,
but, why is it that your hands are trembling?”

“Don’t sip so fast, my dear. My hands only
tremble because of the quieted rage I have grabbing
at my chest. Can you see them, love?
The demons of the bastards and the whores as they
laugh and squeal in time to each others bleating?
I have brought us here, for clear and precise reasons,
and your scars will only serve you well by the time
the reckoning has begun. It is a very beautiful night.”

“Aye – you’re right; what a perfected, star-filled sky,
epochs in time, they still shine – a shrine to you and I,
a luminary mapping of the vengeance in your eyes,
a twinkling mirror image of the bastards that must die;
Now sit back and let your chains down, my friend,
indulge in the strength of our unity, once again,
we both know how it goes: it’s us against them,
in an infinite war for the Hell that we find comfort in.”

“You speak truth. I have grown weary of these chains
and the weight they add to my steps. My shoulders have
become accustomed to carrying burden of injustice; Hell’s
hand satchels; filled with the names of the hunted horsemen
who failed to do what we must do. But – I share this load with you;
my kin both in the infected shadows, and in the guileful light.
Intoxication it is, my friend, both of the mind and of the body.
Tonight we watch the stars unfold, and light the way for morning.”

Let Go.

Mocking Bird Down

Bloody_Face_of_Bagul
Remembering you, is like placing my lips
on a heavy bottomed whiskey glass, filled
with tiny sharp shards of a broken mirror
and tilting it into my mouth. Slicing my tongue,
the same tongue that licked the blood from your lips
when you fell into my glass desk.
Tearing at my throat, with a familiar burn,
that comes only from crying so hard that the
salted grief becomes more acidic with
each clear recollection of
just how
fucked up
you
are.
The mirror catches the light, like you did,
but it makes me keel over; internal bleeding
and a searing pain, also familiar. Your calling card.
You found me when I was just a young girl,
and you added an unforgettable misery
to my world.
Your creation was my slow deterioration.
Your masterpiece was the physical
damage that would grab at me with it’s clammy hands
still, fifteen years later.

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