316. Curl Up in the Corner, Dear

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Curl up in the corner, dear,

And cover your ears in vain.

You cannot hide from the pain.

This world is made of fear.

Curl up in the corner, dear,

And hide from searching hands.

Blind your eyes behind hair-strands,

And pray to disappear.

Curl up in the corner, dear,

And close those teary eyes.

Most things seen and said are lies,

To lead the naive near.

Curl up in the corner, dear,

For hands were made to punish;

And skin and bones to ravish,

In treachery severe.

Curl up in the corner, dear,

For certainty’s a lie.

They will not care if you die,

Or if you persevere.

Curl up in the corner, dear,

And cover your ears in vain;

For a world, it is insane,

Where sanity breeds fear.

K. Aldaya, 9/2/15

Picture: Found on youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJarvZMi0gU; http://i.ytimg.com/vi/lJarvZMi0gU/maxresdefault.jpg

297. Smiles: They are Liars!

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Smiles: they are liars!

Do not trust their forms.

They live as “Great Deniers”,

Of internal storms.

Some smile to spread cheer.

Some smile for just themselves,

While others smile out of fear,

Or to hide from themselves.

If one laughs and smiles.

If they always seem happy,

Would you believe an expressions’ wiles,

Could mask a tragedy?

Behind smiles lie many things…

Anxieties and fears;

They often mask real feelings.

They like to hold back tears.

Never trust a smiling face,

To tell the truth to you,

For a smile is often put in place,

To hide deep pains from view.

K. Aldaya, 4/1/15

Picture: from Firefly; Summer Glau as River Tam; http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m74sr0MABR1rzve6xo1_500.gif

283. Mutistic Refrain

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Whisper not a whisper,

Or someone is bound to hear;

And it echo and repeat itself,

For all the world to hear.

Whisper not a whisper,

For even the wind has ears;

And a tongue for blowing secrets,

And spreading fears.

Whisper not a whisper.

Hold it in and hold your breath.

Let tears o’erflow the flood-gates,

And hold back the ghosts of death.

Whisper not a whisper,

They can hear! They can hear!

From their haunted world they listen!

Hush…do not let them hear!

Whisper not a whisper,

As ghosts are for the dead,

And should not find a home to haunt,

In any others’ head.

Whisper not a whisper,

Lock the door and close the blinds.

Protect those who do not know,

What searching here finds.

Whisper not a whisper,

No one may enter here.

Save all from what’s unseen.

Save all from what’s to fear.

Whisper not a whisper,

Or someone is bound to pay.

The haunted world must be contained;

They will not have their way!

Whisper not a whisper,

And they won’t find anyone.

Stay inside and make a stand,

For the past can’t be undone.

So, whisper not a whisper,

Crouch and hum an eerie tune;

And wait and rock until it’s time,

To greet the lonely moon.

For if whispered-out a whisper,

Someone is bound to hear;

And it echo and repeat itself,

For all their ghosts to hear.

K. Aldaya, 12/28/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/340275/

248. There’s a Monster in My Closet

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There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there,

But deep inside,….I feel it….,

Feel it on the skin: naked; bare.

There’s a monster in my closet.

It murmurs without spare,

Of long ago,…of far away…,

Of a place no longer there.

There’s a monster in my closet,

Breathing.  Breathing.  Breathing,…

Oh, and panting for it’s fare.

“It’s not there….Yes, it’s not there!”

There’s a monster in my closet.

“Open the door”, you say?

I’ll do so, with strength,

I’ll do so right away.

Maybe I’ll see it…..Yes! See it there today!

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there;

But today I’m going to face it,

And be done with this despair.

There’s a monster in my closet,

Of this I am aware;

And so I delve into it’s lair,

To see it’s face, to let it free,

To find another care.

There’s a monster in my closet.

The closet door creaks open……slowly…open,

Where is it?

Desperately I search.  Pull and tear…until,

There’s nothing left but remnants,

Of what once was there.

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there,

But deep inside I feel it….

I feel it everywhere!

K. Aldaya, Date: ???

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; Originally on Aperture Journal.com; http://imgarcade.com/1/old-creepy-doors/

225. Doll Face

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Doll face.

Pretty doll.

Cute face.

Crawl….crawl.

Dirty face.

Bawl…and bawl.

Smudged face,

At night’s fall.

Shadow face.

Cringe and bawl.

Wet face,

‘scape the maul!!!

Cracked face.

Lost eyeball.

Doll face.

Broken doll.

Ugly face.

Appall! Appall!

Bloody face.

Masks may wall,

From disgrace.

Clown-face?

Can you recall?

The former beauty of your souls’ broke-face?

K. Aldaya, 12/27/11

Picture: “Broken Doll” by iKanji on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Broken-Doll-351889647

86. Men Live Best Blind

(c) National Trust, Calke Abbey; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Candle light is waning in the mid of night.

A gentleman refraining from the sleepers’ plight;

Heavy thoughts remaining.

Can the roving mind deeply reach for truth,

And in the darkness find some revelating proof,

That all men live best blind?

Secrets are truths hidden, and when shown they are spread,

Like the plagues from back then which soon become widespread;

All wishing that it hadn’t been.

Secrets linger in the dark or so I long have heard,

And that the truth will lurk ’til letting go the word,

To release the berserk.

But he knows as I do, this gentleman insomniac,

That a secrets residue keeps him wake in black,

But saves all those in view.

K. Aldaya, 10/17/04

Picture:  “An Old Man Writing a Book by Candlelight” by Godfried Schalcken (1663 – 1706); http://www.nationaltrustcollections.org.uk/object/290274

36. The Door

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The door is open to another place,

Where you can run and veil your face.

You’re free to enter for your escape,

But it’s lined on the bottom with red tape.

Leave from here to go over there,

And the tape between worlds starts to wear.

Each time is harder to return from,

Making your glimpse of realities numb.

Run through the door to hide,

And enter an emptiness far and wide.

There’s the door if you wish to fare,

Sometimes there’s just too much to bear.

K. Aldaya, 9/21/03

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://pictures.4ever.eu/cartoons/digital-art/doors-in-the-field-154563

13. It

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It’s always there,

Deep, deep, inside.

It’s always where,

It is easy to hide.

In it’s hiding it rests,

Slowly growing; growing.

Passing it’s tests,

To keep going, and going.

Then all at once it erupts,

From being contained so long.

Showing more downs, less ups,

Destroying hearts’ song.

K. Aldaya, 5/29/03

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://media.npr.org/assets/news/2010/01/18/depression-e463a655307ccad3f1e741b74f3193f81620b2c1-s6-c30.jpg