The Separation

The truth burnt me

at the tip of my tongue

and small embers became alight

God knows, how much I tried

to keep the flames inside

but

it wasn't mean to be...

My conscience only served to feed the heat

that made my brow leak

from drops of my own deceit

and I cried like

never before

invisible tears

that shattered the floor

upon which I stood...

and like

the jagged throes of birth

my words

painful in their stride

surpassed the speed of light

and invaded your chest

ripping open the cage

that shielded your life

and

left you without breath

left your cardiac

arrested

without bail

as your beats failed

so did your trust in me...

and as I looked at the pieces

of our infarcted love

lying beneath

our broken dreams

I saw us

as we really were

separate beings

whose love was never meant

to be

but at one time

we were devout

so I didn't protest

as you screamed out

your baritone laced with defeat

I,

didn't protest hearing the door slam

with finality from beneath

I,

didn't protest

watching your back recede

into the shadows street

for I knew

the love we carried

was. not. meant. to. be.

and that nevermore,

the two would meet...

but sometimes I wonder...

what if I was wrong...

My Inspiration:  Old Poetry Archives #2014

 

© KohylahPiper 2017

#20 The Choice

I wish I could pull you out of that rut…

the one you’ve been living in

we all have our own special kind

but its seems that you’ve become

accustomed to staying in

this

dreary atmosphere

you didn’t create

but evolved out of situations in life

and now

you’ve owned it

sitting there

looking into its darkness so long

vacant, alone

you’ve consciously abandoned

then forgot about

that other place

you cherished

called home…

This 
home isn’t the kind

that common walls enclose

it’s not the place associated with

your family’s highs and lows

It’s who you are beneath all of this

confusion and loss

this anger, depression

and cynicism of trust...

It’s the you that existed

in an innocent plot.

It’s the you that

still cradles an essence of love.

It’s the you that is strong enough to

look

.Up...

and

take control of the power

you’ve been given

to get out of that rut

and move on with your life

not looking down again ever

to that hole that you made a haven

of smothered joy

magnified guilt

and aborted prayers

you never believed in enough to utter…

I wish I could pull you out of your rut;

it would be…

my greatest pleasure

but it’s your choice and not my arms,

though outstretched still

that determines if you stay in that gutter.

My Inspiration: Morning conversations

 

© KohylahPiper 2015

#18 Edel...

    
courtesy: T Al Nakib

Each day we saw you yet we never perceived your pain

Deep inside your chest, never laid to rest

Every face that you put on was nothing but a lie

Leaking through the mazes of your aching mind.

Enemies borne of you had pervaded your silent space

Damaging your last bricks of defense and its sinking base

Everyone thought they knew you but no one ever did

Laughter was your remedy to hide your anxious dread.

Early Monday morning, you shocked me to my core

Dying... they said when we'd spoken just three nights before?

Everyone was talking 'bout how you tried to take your life

Liquid poison burning your throat igniting a chemical fire

Eventually I got away, and rushed to the 4^th floor

Death lurked in our ICU, lying damp behind closed doors

Every beep confused me, I guess I still couldn’t comprehend

Lifeless-like eyes gazed up, from the pale face of my friend.

Edel, I touched your hair, I prayed and held your hand

Deep inside I knew that life would not be the outcome

Every step I took after raced to get outside but

Long before I reached the exit, I had already begun to cry.

Each week that went by, your body seemed to fight

Death was held at bay, but only for a while

Eventually I saw you for the very last time

Lifting your eyes tubes and all, you actually tried to smile

Easing into the darkness you finally took your flight

Days of study flew by fast after, but you stayed on my mind

Ever so often, in moments not unlike this

Led by nostalgia's gentle arms I begin to reminisce

Explaining our own version of Roca’s Book. Number Two.

Details of farm life, first love, and first wife

Earnestly remembering your mother, who you lost too soon

Loving your son, the life of guajiros under the harvest moon

Each year since 2012, you resurface in my mind’s eye

Dark brown hair, those batty ears...your lopsided smile

Even though now, our whole class now leads separate lives

Long will we remember the sound of death's roar

So softly emptying reality’s truth onto the floor

Singular tragedy that only produced more

Unexpectedly opening a seemingly non-existent door

Icily ripping a father from a son

Claiming a life before it had really begun

Indignantly killed you in small pieces as led

Darkening our roll call...each time your name was mistakenly read…

Ever so often, just like this, I see your face and then 

slowly I begin to reminisce.

   

#WSPD2015

 My Inspiration: My Classmate

 

© KohylahPiper 2015