The Quiet Room
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By a thread, I hang, as the knell tolls.
Moribund and cacophonous,
Surrounded by angels of death, I am.
They chortle and laugh at me, as
The tragic side show carries on.
I am amongst the persecuted,
Caught in a sinister grasp-
With the clapping of thunder,
My flailing limbs, caught in a vice.
Crouched in a corner, I have lost my battle with life.
My hair, frazzled, as that of a madman.
Blackened ice paves the floors through the doors of death.
Kicking and screaming, I find myself surrounded by
Yellowed walls, caught in a cyclone as
Veracity slips through my open palms.
None but a glimmer of light,
Hope without a prayer has been snuffed out as
I am a prisoner trapped within this iron vault.
The foul stench of urine permeates as the
Walls spin in an emotional typhoon.
Voices are loudening,
Blood-curdling, then muffled,
My chapped lips crack as I vociferate madness,
Bellowing and shouting
I cower in a corner then thrash about.
The knell continues to toll as thunder keeps clapping.
Lightening ignites my sordid spirit.
I am a hellion sailing the rapid river towards bedlam.
My fists pound upon the paint-stained concrete,
Black as fear, blood gushes from the ceiling.
Leaded paint chips cascade downward,
Hitting the ground in staccato rhythm.
The knell tolls “Abide with me” as
I lie outstretched upon the glacier-cold floor.
As I gasp for a breath of air
I count backwards.
A ghost-like silence has settled as dry snow would,
Blanketing the room-
I close my eyes and a wooden smile
Creeps up upon my face and as I listen with caution,
The people in my head begin to converse with me once more…
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Claudia Krizay
All I Want
All I want is the luxury of sleep the all-consuming wonder
She infuses me with warmth and wills my slumber
Till my whole day is spent lying under the covers.
Speak to me in dreams and my life shall be a dream
I see the red brick plaza reaching out to the street
Let me lie down there on a bench, catching sunbeams.
Some of my favorite times were spent at that window
Looking down as people pass and the flags billow
Out and snap against the pole as the wind blows.
I cry out in pain like a building imploding
Everything I have rushes to the center and falls
And even the words I would say become whispers of dust
The trees around me are unstirred, their greenness shames me
They grow despite the winter, despite the drought
They lift their arms elegantly and hold them there and dance
On a day when wind stirs the flags on the plaza
And I fall in on myself once more and rush to the phone
To call my doctor saying, "See? It didn't work!"
They held their electrodes to my head and made my brain twitch
Oh what I should have said was "No. Not now. Not ever. Not me."
But I kindly shuffled my implosion into position
And let them do their work and charge me exorbitant fees.
Ruined. Taken down. How much further down to the bottom?
Three...two...one...and the detonation begins.
The window high over the plaza breaks and becomes a rush
Of brick and concrete and wood and the dust rises
And I am trapped beneath it all.
Carolyn