Remnants of Tragedy

The little empty area of my heart

Cold shadows shape
Prism bars through a window break
Apart the ice 

Of light and life

When I awake

It's like memories caged

As animals

Back and forth they pace

Metaphors arouse the senses
Regret in silence regurgitates
And all I can do
Is think to run

But, yet again

I hold on much tighter
To the wane of sanity
where no signs

Mark the way with warning

Moments are landslides
Stones stockpiling; images within
That now stir the cauldron hot

Soup dark deep thick

And begins to play

Out the movie titled
" The unspeakable act"
Every year premiers

Upon this January day

I watch from atop balconies

Always struck

Fathoms in my head
By tragedies portrayed

 

And now I see…
What I forgot
Mother, lying
About her sins; covered up

The experience is

Out of body

Beneath, the child crying
And guilt turns its screws slowly

 

Finds it's way...
Around the face of clock
Hands and hapless
Time an enemy

Peeking in

To life’s ending, ticking, plot

If, but for an instance
I could be free
Free from what
A reality without a mother
And her needed love

When is enough, enough
Please, conscience and subconscious

Release the fist; let me go
And I promise
I’ll keep on… existing

Perhaps even living and beyond

Author's Note

One of my first poems.

Reviews

[Azure Montessa (Blue)]

Mike, this is stunning! I believe this is one your poems which touched me the most and reached out to my soul! I love every single line and your wordcraft is totally remarkable! Can't believe this is one of your first poems! My earlier poems are crap. But of course, I love them! I always compare my first poems to my later ones and I get the idea on how much I have progressed on my writing skills and thinking skills, too. ;)

This is very well-written, Mike. I applaud you! :)

[Michael G. Smith]

Well, to be honest before I posted it I did some rewrites. My poetry is always in constant flux. If I come back and read it I will find places I can improve but eventually I do get them to a place I believe were they are finally finished.

[rutherford]

Struggling with past histories--these can be a hard read (not for the writing but for the window on someone's inner struggles). Emotionally riveting.

[Michael G. Smith]

Yes, I see many cases where victims of tragedy stay victims and use it as an excuse through life others like myself use it to improve ourselves and become stronger. My hope is this poem will help others to make the right choice in their tragedy.

[Kristallo]

This is stunning. It burns with the relinquishment of vanity, metaphors are visually shadowed by the dark side of your heart. I like the way you combined the duality of conscious and subconscious mind, aware of your mental limitations you call upon some ethereal wisdom to assuage these lamentations of life. I found the poem's composition to be well constructed and emotionally moving and relatable. There is such strength here, scattered like autumn leaves in the gale of your sorrows. Great job on this.

[Michael G. Smith]

It seems the death of some close as a mother tends to bring out deep powerful raw emotional words out of me. Thanks for such an in depth review.

[Rita L. Sev]

The promise to keep living, and beyond - I love that, Mike. In the dark introspection, it would be so easy to fall to despair - but you see more than that moment. Though it will always occupy a part of you, you are wise to know that it is only a part, and not your whole being... Well penned, my friend.

[Michael G. Smith]

I have wisdom Hmmm... translated to life's hard experience. Thanks Rita.

[Dean]

self-analysis is not often seen--at least as poignantly as you do, here, but in this case it seems to accomplish its purpose as well as fulfill its function as an art form fairly successfully.

[Sami Khalil]

"Time an enemy

Peeking in

To life’s ending, ticking, plot


If, but for an instance
I could be free
Free from what
A reality without a mother
And her needed love"

You have poured your heart and soul in this one. So emotive. I feel like it is a tribute to your mother ...Thank you for sharing...:)

[Frieda P]

This resonates in my bones, I hope this poetic balm proves cathartic Mike. Most affecting read.

[Michael G. Smith]

Okay, your definitely on my good side now,lol.

[Frieda P]

Ha did I do something to get on your bad side that I'm not aware of?? lol

[Michael G. Smith]

No, just messing with ya.

[Frieda P]

Well it's only a matter of time ;-)

[M. Stein]

Moments are landslides
Stones stockpiling; images within
That now stir the cauldron hot

Soup dark deep thick

This is very good! I wouldn't have guess it wss your first write. Nicely done.

[Michael G. Smith]

I actually did some rewrite on it today. All my poems are living breathing. I change them constantly when I see a new way to present a line or verse.

[Dean]

all to the good

[SyberRose]

Memories can be bad or good...but i guess we should cherish them either way as some people cant remember anything when they get older..because of Alzheimers...how terrible for them...nicely penned Mike...Rose

[Michael G. Smith]

the body also remembers tragedy. for many years in January I would get depressed forgetting this was the month I found my mother. I began marking my calendar so it wouldn't take me by surprise because the rest of the year I was trying to forget. poetry is a great doctor for the soul.

[SyberRose]

yes it is and its a cheap therapy...a tranquilizer.