Locked Inside
I have often marveled at the glory of the sun,
When it rises above the trees in full bloom in the summertime-
Innocently gazing over the magnitude of its mysteriousness-
I could capture each moment within my cupped hands-
Each moment that its rays pirouette, casting its shadows
Upon the grass that is nearly laughing as it sparkles,
While it reflects in its dew each ray at the dawning of every new day-
I am alone every morning when I awaken to welcome
The miracle of each new day-I am alone as I hope and wish that
Someday I can be a part of this gift nature has bestowed upon this world-
Being in motion with the gentle breeze that rustles
The leaves on the oak and maple trees which I can see
For miles and miles until they reach the mountains on the horizon,
Then meeting with the sky-
The sky, cobalt blue in its hue and there, not a cloud to be seen-
I see the trees, the mountains and the splendor of the sun at daybreak-
I can see the dew upon the grass capturing the sunlight, as
Each ray reaches out as would a cherub with her arms outstretched-
I can feel the gentle summertime breeze lightly touching my arms
In an almost sentimental way-
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Life's Purpose
I can hear people singing- beautiful melodies,
Upbeat and tuneful- I sing along-
I sing alone except for the company of
The comrades who live inside
The fortress of my mind.
I can hear raindrops splashing
Rhythmically onto the pavement outside, as
A cool breeze creeps through
An open crack in my bedroom window- I realize that
This is the autumn I have been waiting for.
Foliage on the trees changing color,
Skies are darkening- although it is only 6 PM-
I walked in the woods this morning amongst
Deer, squirrels and mallard ducks- as
The sun was just rising
I believed I was the queen of the forest.
However, right now my heart has become an empty cage,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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I Hate Schizophrenia
I hate schizophrenia-
Spending months in a locked ward,
Pacing up and down low piled carpeted halls
Between therapy groups, and those nothing to do weekends.
Oh, how I hate schizophrenia.
I hate having schizophrenia,
Having to take at least seven medications
To get me through the day, and to take Ativan
To assure me a normal night’s sleep.
I hate having schizophrenia.
I hate this illness I have called schizophrenia.
Taking the Seroquel and Abilfy that make me ravenous so
I feel that I must spend the day vigorously exercising to
Keep my weight at a normal range, and to live on rabbit food.
How I hate this illness called schizophrenia.
I hate my terrible illness, schizophrenia.
If I don’t take multiple medications,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Palace in the Sky
Forever lost inside my own world-never to come out of hiding
I am building palaces in the sky though I can only see the stars.
I can only see the stars, and
The quarter moon's light shining dimly upon the horizon
Casting its shadows upon the places of my dreams-
How I wish to escape the misfortunes of life upon this planet and
Make my home inside a palace somewhere in the sky.
I had built a million palaces, so it seems-
Every day and every night, I find myself rapidly losing my grasp upon
What is real and what is not- I am running a marathon toward someplace
Between the land where grasses and flowers grow and the
Trees, from the ground reaching upward to touch the clouds,
I can feel the gentleness of the late spring's breeze
Blowing against my cheeks, damp from tears that have I have cried, as
This world has not been kind to me.
People are heartless, and only laugh when I am weeping,
Looking into my eyes reading my thoughts, and
Ridiculing me as I converse with the voices inside of my mind,
Which have become my only consoling realities while inside this world of my fantasies,
I have become a dove with broken wings-which with deep gratefulness can still fly.
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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You Told Me
I remember you reading me about
Places beyond the mountains,
Above the trees and behind rainbows-
You told me that skies turned gray here sometimes
And the sound of thunder would
Resonate throughout -
The places I used to run and hide from and
Those places where the skies would at times turn red in hue
Where the light of the sun would bear down
Upon that paranormal pond I so often spoke of-
I had told you about the world I lived in where
Few people lived and cats ran wild while
Trees grew tall to scrape the clouds as
Pink and silver as they reflected in
The course of a running stream that lead
Towards a safe place where I could hide from
That world I so feared where cars ran vicariously-
Clocks ran from nine to five in that world where
Three billion people were known to live-
That world where I had never felt safe at home.
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Gone With the Sky
Upon this day it is as if the sun is raining
Dry tears of anguish, as the clouds have disappeared-
Blue skies have meant to some, happiness, but today I have walked for minutes that have
Transformed to hours and it is as if everyone and everything is mocking me-
Skies are seemingly laughing and the sun cannot be there to guide me, but
Only present to heave invisible drops of water- perhaps dry tears of frustration-
People are following me from and in every which direction-
The colors of their eyes turning in hue as they watch my every move-
Anguish, fear, dread, sadness, hopelessness and perhaps a scant feeling of loneliness-
Are these feelings that plague me in essence none but a myriad of hellions who wish to persecute me?
With every step I take, I feel an upsurge of heat overpowering -
Those dry tears the sun exudes exist as if
Torrents of rain were falling onto the shadows of time-
Initially, moment by moment, then transforming to seconds and splicing to nanoseconds-
I am lost in these woodlands, once quite a familiar place, but now
I call myself none but a lost soul who foresees no destiny-
All I hear are the spattering of dry raindrops splashing onto every chamber of my
Empty heart that is beating out of despair and misery?
Deer are running freely and robins and cardinals have their homes
Amidst the trees above- I just have walked past a creek and I see my reflection within-
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Connection
There exists an ethereal connection
Between you and I and in actuality,
There has always been,
Although perhaps it was not openly visible and before
There was any awareness-
Day after day you and I would
Walk past one another, and
I always thought of you s being a gentle soul,
Never invasive, never threatening-
I may have been as gentle, though more
Fearful and elusive,
As sand would slip between my fingers-
Out worlds so similar, never clashing, but
Then I could not foresee-
We both hid within the places of our madness,
Locking doors and hiding for safety-
I would pass by your door where you were none but a
Prisoner inside your delusional world, and
I could hear your tears screaming,
Sometimes late at night or in the
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Dreary Night
What happened on that day before the sun set?
Has anyone ever seen a star in the sky on a dreary night?
Has anyone ever ridden upon the tail of a shooting star?
Too hard for me to believe, as I cannot fathom reality-
I would go in my father’s garden trying to find myself- though
All I can see are the roses-
My eyes see clearly and I look all about but all I see are roses.
Yesterday I was walking home terrified of people walking behind me.
I saw a daffodil in full bloom, in all of its glory.
But I wept, though unobtrusively- tears of destitute fear.
It cannot be spring on the fourth day of February,
Although I may long for it to be-
I cannot sing songs of love and hopefulness, as
I have never been in love, or never wished to be.
I ask myself- have you ever seen a star on a dreary night?
Did you ever ride bareback upon the tail of a shooting star?
My sanity is buried beneath tons of stones upon
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Magical Land of My Dreams
A silver key has locked me inside my own world, where I have
Lost myself inside the shadows of my dreams-
As would a thundercloud, my tears are like the rain that falls-
The sky would clear and as the sun would re-emerge,
Perhaps there is some levity inside this place of my reverie-
Having lost my soul and my spirit following close behind as a
Fledgling bird may have flown by within a moments notice,
I hear the ticking of a clock rhythmically keeping time to
The motion of my steps slowly walking away from
The confusion, fear, and destitution of veracity-
I am none but a silhouette slipping through a crack in the door
Leading to this place of my flight of the imagination-
I have lost myself along the way I once believed was paved for me alone,
Though only lead me towards madness
And to a world so vast, frightening and unfamiliar-
Running backward down that very same path until I arrived at
That mystifying door that was open for me alone,
That door only I could enter with that magical silver key,
I could hear the songs of angels singing tunes of love, peace and faith-
Stepping with caution over the threshold of that door,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Magical World of My Dreams
A silver key has locked me inside my own world, where I have
Lost myself inside the shadows of my dreams-
As would a thundercloud, my tears are like the rain that falls-
The sky would clear and as the sun would re-emerge,
Perhaps there is some levity inside this place of my reverie-
Having lost my soul and my spirit following close behind as a
Fledgling bird may have flown by within a moments notice,
I hear the ticking of a clock rhythmically keeping time to
The motion of my steps slowly walking away from
The confusion, fear, and destitution of veracity-
I am none but a silhouette slipping through a crack in the door
Leading to this place of my flight of the imagination-
I have lost myself along the way I once believed was paved for me alone,
Though only lead me towards madness
And to a world so vast, frightening and unfamiliar-
Running backward down that very same path until I arrived at
That mystifying door that was open for me alone,
That door only I could enter with that magical silver key,
I could hear the songs of angels singing tunes of love, peace and faith-
Stepping with caution over the threshold of that door,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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