The Butterfly in the Cemetery

The Butterfly in the Cemetery

I don’t remember

If the butterfly at your memorial service

Was teal

Or monarch

It flew towards the horizon

While the bagpipes played Amazing Grace

Mom believed it was a sign from you

~Cie~

Dad

May 31 1936 - November 28 2010 

Yesterday's Dreams

 

Yesterday's Dreams

 

It’s not likely that anyone will ring soon

Asking me to star on stage or screen

That ship long ago sailed away

On the dark water of yesterday’s

Dreams that never came true

 

~Faycin A Croud~

 



Might As Well Be On the Moon

Once long ago and in a world far away

A delusional young woman with a head full of impossible dreams 

Accompanied her father on a plane trip to New York

To visit aging but still vital relatives

She believed that one day

She would often take to the sky

Flying high forever on those dreams

My relatives and my father are now all as dead as those foolish dreams

And hope for a better tomorrow

Might as well be on the moon

There are no second chances for mad fools

Who squandered their youth

That world is gone

And for me it is far too late

To make impossible dreams come true

Me

The Real Cie

Keeping it Real

Even when the truth hurts

Deadlines

When it comes to deadlines

I’m always hurrying to beat time

Before the final bell’s chime

And I find myself out of line

When it comes to deadlines

Procrastination is my crime

~Blooming Psycho~

From the Land of Lost Hope

Suicide ideation by ACKZ Twisted -Art

 

From the Land of Lost Hope

 



Financial misery, no joke

Not much reason for hope

Dreams died a long time ago

I'd love to just let go

 

No such thing as true love

Not too much belief in anything but clouds up above

This old bipolar bitch doesn't have the means to be "duh, winning."

Plus I'm too old to find much fun in sinning

 

For too long I've been on the edge of losing it all

One day I'll find a cliff and from its edge take a fall

There's only one thing that keeps me keeping on

Once he can make it on his own, hell with everything, I'm gone

 

One of these days I'll learn to fly

One of these days I'll touch the sky

If I could I'd still be living a lie

Believing that everything would be all right by and by

 

But I can no longer believe the hype

That I'm just waiting for the fruit to turn ripe

With every year, it gets a little bit worse

Don't tell me my life's not a curse

 

If this little verse has been too honest in tone

It's simply the voice of pain suffered alone

And if you don't like the things I have to say

There's no need to be rude, just be on your way.

 

~Tempest~

Reporting honestly from Hell

 

 

I actually do have a son. He has unipolar depression, while I have type II bipolar disorder. Thus, he has the gene for bipolar disorder, and I pray it's never triggered.

He has made the choice that he will never have biological children because of the mental illness in our family.

My son is an adult, but he is trying to get through med school and still needs my support. If my lot in life hasn't improved by the time he's graduated and working, I will off myself, and I will not apologize for saying that.

 

Cross-posted to:

Crazy Town in Looney Land

Poetry of the Netherworld

 



Trapped!

Trapped!

 

This limerick harks to a serial that we are writing on Undead in the Netherworld.

 

Willy Darkstar was trying to find

A way to escape the egg where he was confined

T'was an unsavory spell

Which trapped him inside this hell

Where he was sure he'd go out of his mind

 

~Wanda~

 



For Jim and Ray

 

Poem for Jim and Ray

 

The assignment from the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads was to write a poem using Doors song titles.

It is my belief that Jim Morrison is probably the greatest rock poet of all time. However, without Ray Manzarek, The Doors would never have come to be. Only he could have woven the amazing tapestry of melody that The Doors are revered for.

Please understand that I'm not some kind of groupie. I have the utmost respect for Jim and Ray. I'm simply having a little fun with these titles in their honor. I hope the guys are out there somewhere in the Universe, and maybe they'll pick up on my vibe and dig it!

Rest in peace, Ray and Jim.

Here is my poem.

Hello, I Love You, pretty baby
Come aboard my Crystal Ship
We'll be Riders on the Storm together
It doesn't matter what the weather

We'll sail away from this unhallowed place
In which the People are Strange
We may hear the songs of sirens as we travel
But When the Music's Over, our love still won't unravel

I need you so bad, you can Love Me Two Times
I'll let you be my Backdoor Man
You know my love is real and not pretend
I'll stay with you until The End

~Wanda~



Cross-posted to:
Poetry of the Netherworld
Undead in the Netherworld