Our Poetry

Where Has It Gone?

I sit and wonder where it all has gone,
when it left me, sitting here all alone.
I never noticed when it left,
never once felt at all bereft.

You'd think something would have caught my eye,
you'd see something when your life goes racing by.
But here I sat, not knowing a thing,
listening to the song birds sing,

as day after day went merrily along,
my mind caught up in the words of a song
that was all blues and tears and cries of pain,
Because, damn, there went my life again!

Now is the hard part, getting it back,
reaching out to strangers to make friends,
stretching my body out like over a rack
trying to reach the place that make the ends
hoping I make it there before my mind cracks
and someone sends this gibbering fool back in the end.

And I lose once more this important part of my life,
and seek to get it back, despite my trials and failures,
I keep trying to succeed to gain the needed tools to do so,
as I close upon then swiftly, quietly and encompass them!
Now again they are mine, for the keeping, to hold on to
to keep me together, for now, for later, for always, for me.

Kcstars 6/24/2008


Finding the Lost Children

The child looked up, fear a beacon in her eyes.
Her body huddled, in a small space, and looked
down as quickly as she could. It appeared she
wanted to be unnoticed, invisible, hidden.
So insignificant a sight, as to be forgotten easily.
And I wondered why? For what reason?

And as I looked around the room, I realized,
it was filled with children looking exactly alike.
Carbon copies of that little girl I saw first-
All thin, in tattered clothes, dirty faces and hands.
Then I saw - the red/blue welts, those faded into
green, the small circled scars and scabs on arms.

Slowly, I began to realize what was before me.
The small victims of someone's rage, gone mad!
Then a small boy turned, and through his torn
shirt I saw, the pink/gray scars from a whip?
Was this real? Were my eyes deceiving me?
Was this a nightmare of some book I had read?

Then a voice, quietly, within my head, spoke-
"These are all you. Meet those who helped
to keep you alive, through all the horrors you
have yet to recall." And as my eyes scanned
the room, they looked at me with timid little
smiles. And I, too, was smiling timidly, back.

1/31/98 Kcstars



If I had never been in my "right" mind
would I know if I were in it now?
And if I wasn't in my "right" mind,
did I then have to be in my "left?"
Ot could I just have been at the cortex level,
or perhaps just floating around the limbic?
Could I have been between the great divides?
Or lost in the ventricles?

If I am not in my "right"mind,
who is to judge this as a fact?
Do I know if the judger is in fact
in his or her own "right" mind?
Back to the age old question--
And who judges the judges?
And are those persons in their own personal "right" minds?

And if being in your "right" mind
is so terribly important and valuable,
What them will become of all the left-brain
individuals, the creative souls of this world?
Will their contributions be lessened because
they weren't in their own "right" minds?
And does that make what they do unreal,
because it was left-brain originated?

And if I am not in my "right" mind,
will I ever know it if I should stray there?
Since I've thought I've been in my
"right"mind all these years,
how will I know it if I find it?
Can someone draw me a map?
4/18/99 kcstars

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