Friday, April 24, 2009


we are all broken
we all keep a secret
so deep, that something
that keeps us unlovable
the secrets are cruel
words deeds of others
said done in anger fear
denial of our powers
stripped physically
mentally defenseless
we were young enough
no need for armour
after the unloving acts
we built that system
of defense against love
hold the secrets close
tight refusing to let go
or share them with you
the secrets impact
hurt shut down cripple
refuse of the deeds
words clutter dusty
moldering clanking
ghostly images
in corners of the mind
scarring still ready
to fight the way out
of the fear and love
ourselves despite them

23 April 2009


alone with my anger and fear
retreat into this place
a stranger among friends
who question and converse
among with the unfamiliar
surroundings and trappings
of luxurious comfort
away from my poor world

swirling fleeting
clarity appears escapes
bounding lambs
to capture slaughter
sacrificing to my own
selfish agenda
on the alter of angst

pieces of my puzzle
lay upset upon the ground
shifting at my feet
as bloods drips from
the fresh kill pooling
washing over the pieces

purpose evades me
real reason for my being
run bearing energy
crackling with anticipation
i wait the calling
wonder if
the soul of the sacrifice
finds the peace
that the ceremony does not bring me

ashes from you reek
of staleness, time passed
passing by me
leaving me to guess
at the picture made by
the bloodied puzzle.

pieces slide from my fingers
slick and soiled
falling again i cannot
rebuild the image that i held
fear of the failure stings
cutting my mind
shredding the hope

frustration and fatigue
begin the process of
i cannot outrun
this any longer
seeking refuge where it is safe
or it is owed
the choice is mine
i am torn
i do not hold the answers
dropping them

the pieces fall
slowly turning in air
angling edges to the ground
settles into the dust
at the edge of the blood pool
motes rise and fall back
the reflective pool
littered with minutiae

the minutiae of my problems
settle on my shoulders
weighing like armour
the defense for inaction
protects me inside it
from forward motion

twitching from the dying lamb
final tightening of muscles
in death the final defiance
of the life draining act
the pools at my feet
the knife that kills and
drains away the thought
can cut away the ties
that hold the defensive
armour of minutiae to my body
if I am quick enough
for the moment brave enough
to face the now barren
strange land ahead
i can be free
spirit unfettered
as the soul of the sacrifice

the lamb’s eyes glare back
daring me

do I dare
am I willing to cut the ties
the choice is familiarity with
fear anger
or that of freedom

choose damn it
before the nerve is lost
cut and escape
damn it now

do it says the lamb
do it, is my sacrifice not worth it
do it, is my blood not enough
do it, I had worshipped you
do it, for the love of god please
do it, before you loose you own soul
do it, the abyss is approaching
do it, you are staring motionless into it
do it, before you fall for it again

cutting the ties
the minutiae of defense falls
pock marking the pools
the chaos of it forms a pattern
decipher it
organize it from the primordial waste
order brought forth from the staining
pain of death

rebirth of the soul nears
marred only with my own doubts
wash them off in the blood
relish the sacrifice
accept the freedon
it is at hand
handed to me with
my own acceptance of my fear
handed over with love and care

thank you, lamb, for your sacrifice

12 April 2009

Wednesday, April 1, 2009


mind swirls action
radial chaos strong arms
sweeping movements
sending me off
tripping my feet
your words echo
disbelief is
gripping my throat
nothing escapes
closed grip of fear
downwards spiral
blowing my mind
your reality
many questions
too few answers

1 April 2009
Cynthia Ryder