256. The Silence of the Birds

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Here I am so lonely.

No one really cares.

I’m just out here surviving.

Why is it no one dares?

To talk to me, or know,

Who I am or long to be?

Or simply say hello,

When they walk on by me?

I’m tired of surviving,

Of doing the right things.

Of saying hello and smiling;

For me, no one does these things.

And yet, they are so simple;

I do them every day.

Though I doubt yet one would call to me,

If I were to walk away.

If I turned and walked,

Up the stairs some more.

And to the top emerged.

And loudly closed the door.

And walked slowly each step…

Tip-tap with the clock.

And softly closed my eyes.

Pondering the tick and tock.

And as the wind,

From the North,

A cold and icy thing,…

Blew, I would step forth,

—-No more to sing.

K. Aldaya, 1/19/14

Picture:  “Girl on the Edge” by Tom Ryaboi: http://www.tomryaboi.com/; http://camyx.com/exposure/2013/11/tom-ryaboi-atop-skyscrapers/

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189. Love, Loves Misery

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How can you tear me down and then say,

“I love you, my darling”, as night turns to day.

Progressively painful vulgarities thrown,

From out your cavalierly-placed throne.

Love should not cause a heart pain as this,

Torturing ’til tears burn and dismiss,

The knowledge of love incinerated;

Then ask me to love where no love’s been created.

The tragedy’s that I care, though you kill;

Demolishing constructions at will.

Burning houses just built to stand,

Against the assault of your next reprimand.

K. Aldaya, 12/25/05

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://data.whicdn.com/images/22478399/28f273b9e0ffd544410d90c0f6ec8072_large.jpg

72. A Random Thought

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I often feel a deep connection with railroad tracks. I see my life as those abandoned railroad tracks through the forest which I used to walk on to school everyday. Behind me the track stretches beyond a road and continues on with no point of origin in sight or reach; a path once traveled, holding perilous and unknown truths, which have been lost to haunted memories. The path endlessly sprawling before my eyes is unchangingly as lonely, empty, and deserted as the track I’ve traveled. Each new step leads toward an empty attempt at finding a purpose which doesn’t have existence here. Each step leading to one more step. Each track to more track. More empty, lonely, cold-rusted steel track. No point of origin. No point of destination, but that final one in which all tracks eventually lead; whether this track or the next step, or the next, or the next ten million. The train passed long ago and I am left here forever in its’ abandoned shadow.

K. Aldaya

Picture: “Foggy Morning Train Tracks to Indian Land NC” by G.H. Holt: https://www.flickr.com/photos/ghholt/; http://www.flickriver.com/photos/ghholt/popular-interesting/

30. The Jungle of Forever

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Here I am amidst this vast, dense jungle. How did I get here whence I came?

Green trees they reach high toward the sky, with each moment seeming larger.

The air is heavy with misty droplets that settle inside and weigh the heart down.

To the right: Fog and darkness

To the left: Black and gray

Underfoot is fresh green grass that’s life fades as you make your way out,

‘Til no grass is left; only blackened soil. “How do I leave this place”, I yell,

“And how did I get here”? My voice echoes and echoes ’til it can be heard no more.

“Please, help me. Please don’t leave me here”, I cry!

But all my voice does is slowly fade and then die.

I’m too scared to move or make another sound knowing not what the darkness holds,

So here I am still in this immense black jungle, not knowing why or how;

Not knowing how to escape from this prison.

This prison that holds me.

That holds me with it’s depths of misery and sadness.

Holds me down to that spot, in the vast jungle,

In that dark place where none can escape once there.

Where none can ever, ever escape.

K. Aldaya, 10/20/02

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://f.nanafiles.co.il/upload/Xternal/IsraBlog/37/91/82/829137/misc/26914710.jpg

5. Two Worlds

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The wind it blows through these wheat fields.  The sun shines down, warming the air.  I stand amidst this stunning beauty just looking all around. The ground is soft. The air is cool and light. The clouds they are many and scattered about in this sky that is bluer than ever before.  The scents in the air are of perfumes of angels, and the wind blows with a lightness that goes right to the bones.  I close my eyes and breathe it all in and hope that this will never end.  Suddenly the sky grows dark and the sun is gone and nowhere in sight.  The wheat in the distance starts to fall and vanish; leaving only  the dark dirt in its’ wake.  Quickly it moves…closer and closer, until all around me is dirt; and the scent in the air of damp soil burdens my lungs making each new breath harder and harder.  Then all at once the wind dies as well and my body feels heavy and weak.  I just stand there in this scene of nothing wishing this scene never had to appear; but this scene and world is reality and the other only something that can be in my dreams.  So I fall to the ground and close my eyes wishing that this world didn’t have to be and the world with the life was the ‘real’ reality; not this picture of emptiness and desolation…this world of nothingness, nothing, none….life, totally gone.

K. Aldaya, 9/21/02

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://wheatgrassbenefitsreview.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/golden-wheat-field.jpg