My Gift - Poem

Poetry Writing does not come easy anymore, but once the dam breaks free my work is strong and unapologetic.

I still have plans to publish my poetry. I have so many plans...

Margarita's Place

  *

Margarita has a place

at the corner of sorrow and regret

I visit her daily

under the neon lights and lonely guitar's howl

"Baby girl, you don't belong here" Margarita disapproves

"I belong nowhere if not in his arms." as I take my corner booth

She pats my shoulder and leaves me to the dark

Another night alone with a broken heart

Lesser men have tried

to sooth the pain

There is more behind a pretty face

But I'm just another bed post notch to their "game"

Margarita's place is where the lonely meet

To drown their anger in a poison of choice

Yet I take the darkest corner

Dying to forget the memory of his voice.

© Mika Buell

March 26, 2014

*note for artwork. Edgar Degas, L'Absinthe, 1876

My own strength

It's been months...too many months and too many emotions to even try to explain my seclusion. It's been a long transition (that I suspect will never end) and looking back at my last post to now...I've come a long way. The Mika typing at this very second is not the mopy self-centered person the first of April.

There are things in this life I want/need and know how to get them. "To thine own self be true" - Shakespeare's words are etched in my mind. Not everyone will agree with me...hell I figure a few will try to shame me but I'm not living for anyone else anymore. People will let you down time and time again...I refuse to let myself down; anymore.

With a deep breath I give you insight to the true Mika. This is my first (of many) steps. I am ready.

Lilith

I am from Lilith
I am made of clay
An equal to any man
I am my own being

The air in my lungs
And the thoughts in my mind
Are filled with serenity
Free to roam the winds of time

I am from Lilith
I am from the clay
My knowledge is my worth
Not the ring on my finger

I am not to be conquered
I am not to be controlled
If I love you - it is freely
With all the passion I hold

I am from Lilith
I am not beneath you anymore
I choose my own destiny
With wisdom to be adored.

*    All rights are reserved by the author Mika Buell.

With love and my own strength,

Mika

Ophelia - poem

Credits 

"Ophelia" by Sir John Everett Millais 1851

Ophelia

 

Ophelia whispers to me
the songs of sorrow
the sound of madness
the breaking of a woman’s heart

In winter clover I find her
leaning the direction of the wind
eyes soft and smiling
her wild blonde hair flowing in circles

With an angelic voice so pure and white
she sighs, “I wish to forget last night.”
“These men are all the same.”
“These men are all to blame.”

Embracing her fragile frame
I wish to give her all of my strength
to clear her mind of the mud
and find her own voice once more.

Ophelia please find the joy
that I know you have buried deep
after a lifetime of servitude,
please have courage

Ophelia leads me to the river
singing with the birds
gracefully dancing to her own tune
laughing all the while

With an angelic voice so pure and white
she screams, “I regret nothing of last night!”
“These men are all to blame!”
“Now every man will remember my name!”

Catching her reflection from the water
a single tear runs down her cheek.
“Dear one, this is my courage.
This is the voice that cannot speak”

As she floats along the current
Ophelia echoes to me
“Take the last breath from me,
for I - am free.”


Copyright Mika Buell-Joseph 2013

 Credit
"Ophelia" by Elle Moss

Poem - Kiss

Some things you cannot kiss better
like a bleeding heart
broken memories
and me

I've lived through your kisses
to tell the tale of sorrow
-such an unsightly scar

Your lips sealed my tomb
as you left me in darkness
my heart will not chance
another unmarked grave

A lifetime cannot heal
these kisses
our memory

-or this girl.

Mika Buell-Joseph 2012

"Kiss of Death" by *michellemonique

Forever Fifteen

I get to this point every now and then...where I have to let the demons out and hate doing so because I always piss someone off. I don't care today. I will not apologize for this post. If you are offended by a real blog post - then go back to reading the prefabricated shit you prefer. This is who I am...this is what I do.

For the rest of the readers I didn't lose (lol) if you look deep in your heart you will find a time in your youth that changed you. Dramatically. That's exactly what this poem is about.

I offer no remorse for my feelings and will not deal with drama.

Forever Fifteen

I'm still 15 years old
Heart broken and distressed
fresh wound

I'm the same girl
with the same heart
salty tears

My 15 year young soul
has long been lost.
too many pills

Pills to remember
how to forget-
the breaking inside

Before years of attempted suicide
and the meds that followed
I was whole

Somewhere inside I'm 15
inspired by joy and tragedy-
but ever motionless

When the pills don't work
I'm a hollow shell

I crawl inside to be 15
to contemplate another try-
gas, water or gun.

Pick your poison, love

I always find my way out of Hell
to the realities of life

The thought is ever inside.

First mixed media art in months.

Silence

No photo today. Poem instead. For the past 14 years, poetry has been my life line.


In silence
we pass the time

I wish I could read minds

Or would your thoughts break


          my heart?

1-31-12 1:04 AM

"Silence" by Victor Borisov-Musatov

Coffeeshop, Rust, Annabel

I have 10 days left to enter the poetry contest I've waited years for. I've narrowed it down to 3 poems...I can enter all of them (for an additional $10 each) so I thought I would share my top 3 with everyone. Feedback on this would be greatly appreciated.

Poem #1 Definitely entering this one

One day our paths will cross
In a quiet coffee shop downtown
You will be in the corner reading "The Communist Manifesto"

As I step through the door
You will look at me and time will pause
Minutes pass before my mind jolts
You smile amusingly with your blue eyes

My heart will sink as I walk by you
Memories flash before my eyes
And my hands will shake

Do I speak to you?
Do you acknowledge me?
Do we treat this as a delicate flower?
Or a rock in the road?

Just as my lips part to force a syllable
You raise your head and whisper
"Not here...Not now...Not ever"©

Poem #2 

I am rust
Tears trickle down my bronze face
Shamed by you
My rust continues to grow

I am rust
You left me in the rain
Cold and alone
A statue frozen in time

I am rust
No amount of caring
No amount of love
Can turn me back

I am rust
Tarnished by lies
Ruined by hate
And broken by pain

I am rust
Orange and brown
My feelings are peeling away
Falling at my feet

I am rust
Weathered and unidentified
Dead to all but me
The rust has consumed the best of me

I.. am... rust...©

Poem #3 

'You are my Annabel Lee
Your life has such tragedy'
These words you often spoke to me
And to this day still linger like a mystery.

For a second of a life time
I lived for you - you were mine
Now I long to hear those lines
To have them echo in my mind

Losing hope in you
Is something I never wanted to do
But as the pain grew
I knew nothing else could be true

I was your Annabel Lee
Now just a memory
Like a bird longing to be free
You are caged in your tragedy©

Thanks for feedback in advance! <3

My Enemy

Your mind is full of traps. Your heart will tell you to be strong and do what is right...while your mind talks you in to a panic. I have a new enemy; my mind. For 27 years I have fought the voices that make me doubt myself. I have fought the rage that comes from my mind rewinding hurtful events of my life. I have fought tears, so many tears. I have spent the past 2 weeks fighting this demon to no avail. At the beginning of my struggle I wrote this:

She is my own Diablo
Always hiding in shadows
Lurking like a thief
Watching and waiting for me to fail

I slip back to loon
My thoughts cloud with decay
My Diablo has found her chance
She swoops in, dragging me along

Deep down in the depths of my mind
Is always our return
To recall pain, humiliation and loss
The images...so vivid...

I weep tears of blood
I scream with a shriek
I claw at the memories
And I break...

Once my Diablo has control
I float thoughtlessly and still
She convinces me I am safe
She promises to protect me.

I believe her as we drift toward the bottom
I have never reached this point
Never touched the source
Oh how I long for answers

My heart won't allow me to stay
"This once" I beg
I don't want to leave
I wish to be alone, just my Diablo & me.

I took this photo some time last month. Between birthday parties, weddings and my own issues I haven't touched my own work. At the time the photo symbolized a new day...it was morning and the plant at my kitchen sink window was preparing for the day. Now I see this symbol as my own sanity. With every drop I feel it falling further away.

My mind is winning the battle; but my heart won't give up yet.

Mika.

May Moon

Wednesday May 11, 2011.  Moon, oh moon...you have and continue to be a mystery to us all. There is something magical and romantic about the moon, don't you think?

I stumbled upon this poem and it spoke to my heart. Perfect.

The Young May Moon by Thomas Moore

The young May moon is beaming, love.
The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love.
How sweet to rove,
Through Morna's grove,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!
Then awake! -- the heavens look bright, my dear,
'Tis never too late for delight, my dear,
And the best of all ways
To lengthen our days
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!

Now all the world is sleeping, love,
But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,
And I, whose star,
More glorious far,
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.
Then awake! -- till rise of sun, my dear,
The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear,
Or, in watching the flight
Of bodies of light,
He might happen to take thee for one, my dear. 

 

 <3

Mika.

Do Not Go Gentle

Yesterday was the last day of February. It was a rather uneventful day so I cheated with another poem. This one however is more commonly known (which is not something I'm interested in) I bought a steal of a book at Border's on my birthday with great poets spanning the last 100 years. The poem I chose was Dylan Thomas "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" 

As with most of Dylan Thomas' poems...the first 2-3 lines are the most captivating. 

<3

Mika.

Volatile

Yesterday was day 55. It rained. What else is there to say? It freakin' stormed. I guess it was a fitting background to the day I had. Yesterday was also a poem day. Nothing exciting. Nothing a lot of people would understand (but then again who really understands anything I ramble about?)

Photos first, the backdrop to the day...

Volatile 

My mind is volatile

Full of anger and pain

The longer I hold it down

The hotter it burns

My heart is explosive

With every beat it's smoldering

How much longer can I pretend

That I am in control?

This pain I feel

Is too much to bare

I have to let it out

Or it will destroy every part of me

I'm lost in my mind

In this volatile fire

I cannot tolerate the pain...

Please help me find release.

Safe Today

I figured since last night's post was unnerving for some...I'd stick to the safe today. I do want to say 'thank you' to my readers that supported yesterday's blog. It lets me know that I'm not really alone.

Another day, another poem photograph. Today's book is Jewel's "A Night Without Armor" I love the poetry and chose the one that fits best for today.

These words hit home...

My V-day rose is slowly withering away. But you know me and my morbid nature...I think it's more beautiful now than when I was presented with it.

Good fight and good night.

<3

Mika.

I Long

Blog for yesterday, Sunday February 13, 2011...day 44. This photo was taken yesterday...the poem, was not. I wrote it earlier in the week and needed a good post to add it to...yesterday was a good day to be gloomy.

"I Long"

I long for a life

That I can claim as mine

Away from the haze of madness

Away from the burden of limits

I long to be numb

To tear away my heart

To stall my mind

And gain control

Never satisfied with me

Never had the life I want

I dream of simplicity

In my every changing heart

I long for a world

That is all my own

Away from the pain of loss

Away from the burden of love.

This is me...this is who I am...I cannot change nor do I wish to. Buried at the bottom, looking up towards the light. 

 This is Mika in the flesh...no editing (besides the obvious) no makeup...just me.

I'm almost caught up now!

<3

Mika.

Dead Hands, Dead Stringencies

Day 43 Saturday this photo wasn't taken this day either...my blog, my rules :)

I have an obsession about photographing pages and I'm not sure why. I of course choose the best pages that mean the most to me. This photo is no different... Sylvia Plath, one of my favorite books...

The poem: Ariel

My favorite line has always been: "Dead hands, dead stringencies"

<3

Mika.

Typeless

What a week...I've sat, staring blankly at the blinking cursor on the screen...waiting for my next thought, word, letter. Sometimes they come easy...sometimes not at all. Sometimes you have so much to say and no way of letting it be free. The words do not exist. It's a rare case for me to be speechless, or typeless as it were. I used to accomplish my best work under these conditions...under this delusional state...but things change.

I won't air my dirty laundry here. I refuse to give in. I can keep it bottled in my mind where it will bleed and change colors, turning in to something different...something workable. 

Today's post won't make sense to a lot of people and that's ok with me. This is a personal day, built on personal reflections and my life 27 years in the making. Further down the rabbit hole...

Not only has it been raining in my mind, it was raining in the real world today...

I attempted to write a poem, but when that failed I reached out for one of my old ones... It didn't happen the way I thought it would in the poem...and in a way I'm glad. I'm glad there were actual words...

One day our paths will cross
In a quiet coffee shop downtown
You will be in the corner reading "The Communist Manifesto"

As I step through the door
You will look at me and time will pause
Moments will pass before either of us move

Finally you look away smiling with your blue eyes

My heart will sink as I walk by you
Memories flash before my eyes
And my hands will shake

Do I speak to you?
Do you acknowledge me?
Do we treat this as a delicate flower?
Or a rock in the road?

Just as my lips part to force a syllable
You raise your head and mumble
"not here...not now...not ever"

May 2008.

For years I hated myself for what happened...where do you go the day after? I feel lost.

 Here. In my head.

<3

Mika.

My Window

Day 26. We didn't get hardly any snow here. Though some of my friends that live in BFE did get more than me. I was hoping for at least an inch or two so I could have some pics..."But as Deepak Chopra taught us, quantum physics means that anything can happen at anytime and for no reason. Also, eat plenty of oatmeal, and animals never had a war! Who is the real animal?"-Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth (Futurama).

I was able to write a poem today, shocking I know. I used to write at least once a week...sometimes once a day. I never expect anyone to understand what I write simply because it's what I'm feeling...and I don't always understand it myself :).

I wrote the poem after I took the photos so that's the order I'll post it.

"My Window"

Through my window
I can see the world
Frantically passing me by

Winter has a way
Of making you crazy
Unable to enjoy this life

I should have bottled the sun
To save it for today
To find the warmth somewhere

Through my window
The world moves forward
While I never know.

1-26-11

Until tomorrow. <3

Mika.