My Dream
Populated by a swarm of
Warrior ants,
Life can be a dangerous ride,
Hailstones are thrown from the
Messiah’s inner- fury as
Fire is rekindled beneath my feet, ignited by the demons of my past.
Gazing from the eyes of an abandoned child,
Masked by tears of frustration,
And the apprehension of what the future could bring,
I perceive this world to be an unwelcome place.
I would venture one step outside the
Realm of disillusionment,
Although only to follow a path of a different and
Brighter star, and hopefully this path would be,
Though narrow,
More smoothly paved.
To discover mountains in the shadows of skies,
Magenta in their hues and
Rivers of scintillating topaz-blue
Would be my fondest and utmost desire,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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My Journey Towards Salvation
If I were one of the robins- many which I have beheld or
A fawn in the wild-
I would fly above the towering trees or
Freely run across the trail
I walk every day and I run or fly
Only because my soul has been
Betrayed and my spirit, terrorized-
Up high above in the trees
I would touch the sky before the rain
Began to fall upon the essence of time and
My hope would be for the rain to wash away my fears,
Drowning them in the abyss of nature-
To realize I am none but a wounded spirit,
Who can only walk this path and at the spur of
A fleeting moment break into a run- as
I search beneath fallen branches and as
I adore the flowers- daffodils donning their
Golden attire and roses with their delicate fragrances-
I would search for what some have deemed deadly silence but from
A glance from my ebony-hued eyes, never deadly but
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Flight
I have always loved the sky and
Dreamed, not only late at night,
Of life beyond our solar system
Elsewhere in the universe so vast-
Some would say that I envision the sky
Under a different light, as
The sun people worship and fantasize
Around which our planet revolves,
Has been brightly blinding and deceptive-
Inside the world of my thoughts as
Others have deemed as delusions-
Casting rays that are fires from hell,
Illuminating the paths I frantically walk
Trying to escape what is real.
Cerulean blue is the sky at night, and
Cobalt blue at sunrise,
Overshadowed by the dimmer light of the moon at twilight,
Adorned with contrasting cumulous clouds at dawn as
Rare shades of blue magically transform to gold as
The evil sunrises, threatening me-
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Heart of Gold (-for my mother)
I was not the person I appeared to be-
In your eyes, I was different.
Although you never told me-
In your spoken words, I was like all of the others-
So many times you had hurt me deeply,
Through your spoken words and through your eyes,
I could never do right-
The slap of your hand across my face
When I was none but a child of six, even before the words came out-
Told me I was a bad girl- I wept and you just walked past me.
Roses grew in my father’s garden, plentifully and beautifully, in the summertime,
Our home was a palace- my father was the king and you were the queen.
When flowers blossomed in the springtime and
Leaves changed colors in the autumn- snow would fall in the wintertime-
No matter the season, you were the one with the friendly smile and the life of the party-
We were the perfect family though I could almost say- though secretly- I hated you.
I was only fourteen years old when I broke down and they put me away-
I used to think that if you did love me, I never would have known.
The bird that could not fly and the child that did not grow up-
The young woman, who heard voices nobody else heard, saw sights no one else saw-
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Itmon
Nobody ever promised me
A patch of lilacs in the wintertime and
Pink clouds never truly rained
A river of tears-
I only promised myself the land of Itmon-
Something akin to a goddess or a saint
I would sit at the right hand of the holy octagon-
Fervently praying for my inner world to come alive-
Locked inside the chambers of madness and
Locked inside the confinement of my bedroom
For days my head would be lost in those pink clouds,
Even sometimes while they were raining
A fine mist of gold upon and before me-
My bed had become the ferryboat guiding me through the bleakness of
My sordid nightmares to
This mesmerizing world deemed as Itmon-
I am alive inside this far away place, though
Truly not so far away-
The voices inside of my mind, commanding-
Giving me orders day in and day out-
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Rejection
The fear of rejection-
Despite the sunshine
And
California, dreams-
This place where snow never falls, and
The ocean exists just outside my back door-
This fear and aloneness
Not even a prayer would
Alleviate,
Although one day I met you
Walking barefooted in
The sunlight’s shadows –
A child of God you said you were and
That we are all God’s children-
Your hand outstretched
Reaching for mine- although
With some trepidation
I walked the path towards heaven
By your side as the rain fell-
Laughter was infectious,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Wildflower
Amongst grass and tall weeds-
You show your face alone-
Petals violet as the eyes of a goddess-
Dancing in gentle motion in
The quiet breeze of late summer-
You could have been human but
You are far too exquisite – as
Lovely as a shining star, although less elusive-
Bowing shyly to the passers by,
You grow in solitude.
Uniquely bashful as my own persona
Fearful of the world surrounding-
Isolated form other flora- you stand with apparent pride.
I have often wondered if
You are as heartrendingly frightened and as
Lonely as I had been many seemingly eons ago-
Casting your shadows upon the earth…
As far as I can envision
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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If I Die
If I am to die today, listen and please try to understand
I am not to be blamed, as
These woods are adamantly magical, although the sky,
Overcast and gray as it is,
I could envision the rain falling, though
No droplets seem to be touching the ground,
Paved with asphalt it is,
Black as a nightmare it is, and
If I were to have been attacked or strangled by
This strange person whose voice I have heard commanding me to die,
Some horrific humanoid creature that wants me damned, dead and gone,
If I am to die to day, it is to be my fate;
I just cannot persevere,
Not one more moment, neither a second longer, as
My pain has cut me so deeply,
I believe my time has come.
Please do not pick roses for me, neither
Wild flowers whether be wild violets, dandelions or
Let the morning glories open and laugh all they care to, as
I cannot laugh, but neither can I weep,
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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To Reach The Sky
I may have found my paradise, and
If I could only reach the sky,
I would know I will have arrived at the home of my desire;
When I was very young, I was a child without direction,
I was lost and hardly knew which street I walked, though every day,
Terrified of the nighttime hours, I was and
Fearful of the world outside, from the moment that
The sun rose in the valley I could envision outside of my bedroom window?
I could sing angelic hymns concerning the loveliness of this world,
I could sing but my spirit was on the run from veracity and
I hardly believed or understood the words I sung-
It was none but a harmonious tune echoing inside my mind,
Dismembered in many ways, as my thinking was out of touch-
Whenever the rain would fall I would sing and dance outside but
Inside the world of my delusions, locked and keyed from the real world,
That unfamiliar place, perhaps too familiar in many ways, that
It had become the fortress of my intrusive enemies?
Rain is falling hard at this moment, and I cannot reach the sky-
Rain is falling in torrents and my paradise is hidden behind the ominous gray clouds-
My paradise I have never seen as I cannot see beyond the
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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Life In The Land Of The Dead
I live in the land of the dead.
Upon this path I have taken my walk alone.
My feet would hit the ground with hard and steady steps.
I hear cymbals crashing and the tuneful rhythm of the beating of drums.
I have lost myself along the way.
A lost and crying soul I am,
Living in a sea of shattered tranquility,
Only a shadow, I have silently slipped away through
An open crack in the back door of this place,
This place where the carpet is chartreuse and urine stained,
The stench of perspiration reeks here in this room, and
Tiled walls are sallow and filthy-
I sit upon this chair, its upholstery sadly torn,
Foam rubber poking out of every hole-
Old men, zombie like, overmedicated pace up and down the room and
A pasty –faced young woman, wrists bandaged-both of them…
I can hear the piano playing out of tune in the solarium.
My ears are crying out for some peace and some silence-
“Listen, listen, ” I whisper hoarsely – a cry for help-
I am a captive in my own world, as I
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poem by Claudia Krizay
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