Fly Flying

I was watching a fly flying,

Listening to its buzzing buzz.

How quaint I thought this little fly,

How loudly I heard it buzzing by.

Wishing this fly would fly away.

Wishing this day would die away.

Suddenly the fly stopped flying,

And the buzz stopped buzzing.

I looked up and down,

I looked all around.

Until I noticed a peculiar plant,

Planted on the table’s top.

In this plant the fly was trying,

Trying, but failing at flying. 

Lured, it was, by a sticky fuzz,

And never again will it loudly buzz.

How silly I thought this little fly,

How sad I felt to say goodbye.

I wished that this fly would fly away,

And that this day would die away.

But now the fly is dying away, 

 And the day's no sooner flying away.

Now, like the fly, my thoughts too decay.

Now I’m wishing a fly would fly my way.

(b.m.)

Shadowed Identity

How did I get here, 

in this place so void of hope and joy? 

What once was light is now dark 

and all I can see is pain as stark as the stars 

in the night's sky. 

The fatigue plaguing my bones is what this illness does, 

making everything feel like this hazy fuzz and

I'm nothing but a shadow of what I once

was.

The magic blue pills that my doctor prescribed 

are supposed to help with this pain I've described

but it's hard to fix what's buried so very deep 

inside.

So please, try to understand that when you tell me

"it's all in your head" as if that's the answer to 

all of this dread, that I want nothing more

than to be dead because I would be rich if I got a

penny for every time I have ever heard that said.

(b.m.)

Riptide

It's something o'clock in the morning on

someday of the week. The softest light is 

peeking through the window, having just started to

stretch its rays and touch the earth.

The birds haven't quite woken from their slumbers just yet,

apart from a few lazily singing out their morning tune,

sounding as if they're saying "just five more minutes."

The only other sound is the rhythmic breathing of

someone in a deliciously peaceful sleep lying next to me,

buried in a sea of my soft white comforter.

The light has now started to stretch its fingers across the bed,

tenderly caressing her face and illuminating a

treasure trove of beauty. No sunrise in the world could

convince me of a more breathtaking view than 

the one here in my bed. 

Laying on my side so we're face-to-face,

I reach my hand out to gently touch her cheek,

enamored by the soft rosy hue and 

carefully arranged freckles.

Then, with a deep, life-giving breath in through her nose,

the most heavenly smile appeared beneath my fingers.

First one, then two, sleepy eyelids slowly lifted

to reveal oceans of blue whose rip currents

pulled me in with the promise of never longing for land

again.

And I surrendered to it. Completely.

(b.m.)

Series: Ticking Clock

#1

tick
tick

Mind racing.
Feet pacing.

    tick
    tick

Hands shaking.
Heart aching.

tick
tick

Sleep delaying.
Thoughts decaying.

    tick
    tick

Mouth pleading.
Skin bleeding.

tick


tick




tick.

(b.m.)


#2

I got a splinter in my hand yesterday,
Still, the clock ticked.
Things didn't go as planned yesterday,
Still, the clock ticked.

I forgot to take my meds today,
Still, the clock ticks.
The loneliness spreads today,
Still, the clock ticks.

I'll breathe my last breath someday,
Still, the clock will tick.
We'll all meet with death someday,
Still, the clock will tick.

and tick. and tick.

(b.m.)


#3

The clock ticks 86,400 times per day.
It's been two years since you left without saying
goodbye,
and not one tick has brought me closer to feeling
whole again.

(b.m.)

The Climb

I've dug myself a monstrous hole,

Out of which I cannot climb.

The deeper I go, the darker my soul,

I fear I haven't much time. 

The light is moving further away,

As I reach my hands in vain.

I kick and scream for some delay,

But I'm met with only pain.

Void of hope, I fall to my knees,

And touch my hands to pray.

Desperate to put my mind at ease,

To whom, I know not, I say:

I've lived my life as best I could, kind to those I've crossed.

Saving animals as Irwin would, no matter the risk (or cost).

I hope when people think of me, they remember only the best.

If only but a smiling Bri, as bright as lemon zest.

My love for you will never fade, wherever this journey ends.

There's nothing I would ever trade, in place of family and friends.

The light above is all but gone, I've used up all my time.

Someday soon will come the dawn, and out of this hole I'll climb.

Out of this hole I'll climb.

(b.m.)

My God, I Pray

As the days grow shorter, and the nights colder;

there is something coming near.

As if my soul knows, an anxiousness grows;

'waken is a chilling fear.

The leaves begin to fall, and birds cease to call;

a darkness consumes the land.

Tired are my eyes, as loneliness arrives;

the silence I cannot stand.

Passed are the days, of warmth and rays;

in charge is now the moon.

But when she's gone, the monsters are drawn;

left empty are bodies strewn.

My mind is being lost, its price too high a cost;

heavy do thoughts of you weigh.

Betrayed was my heart, though it knew from the start;

never do loved ones stay.

Buried are words unsaid, fated as those now dead;

regret is the devil's delight.

 Before I die I hope to confess, the feelings I so cruelly suppress;

my God I pray to survive the night.

My God, I pray.

(b.m.)

Invasion

A killer is on the loose,
Within the world today.
It lurks along the streets,
Crippling those it meets...
Traveling by gateway.

Descending upon the innocent,
It seizes all control.
Weakened is their might,
Taken is their sight...
Victim to a blackhole.

To some there is no escape,
For darkness is relentless.
Imprisoned, they are caught,
Too weakened to have fought...
The users are defenseless.

It takes on many identities,
Along this quest to conquer.
Whether powder, liquid, or pill,
It assumes the facade of a thrill...
Beneath hides a true monster.

Devoid of any prejudice,
It preys on everyone.
Mothers, daughters,
Brothers, fathers...
A plague you can't outrun.

There must be some hope,
For this slaughter to cease.
A path towards the light,
Salvation within sight...
One day there'll be peace.

One day.

(b.m.)

Reflected

I stumbled upon this empty shell,

as I walked along the river.

Maybe it was the decaying smell,

that made my body shiver.

Something about it drew me near,

as I ventured beyond the trail.

Maybe it was the feeling of drear,

that made my skin go pale. 

Most beguiling was this ivory stone,

as my eyes became transfixed.

Maybe it was the stark white bone,

that made me so affixed.

I soon realized the connection,

as my chest welled up inside.

Maybe it's my own reflection,

that this empty shell implied.

-b.m.

Apart

I like to think of the moon

as a friend of mine,

when I'm lonely at night.

Even he's gone too soon

'cause of sunshine,

and her blinding light.

-b.m.

Caress of Sleep

It's barely dawn as I begin to wake,
Caressed by the light of morn.
Outside sparrows claim their stake,
To return to slumber? I'm torn.

Sleep calls my name, a whisper at most,
her gentle touch tugs at my eyes.
Enveloping me, holding me close,
What wonderful dreams there lies.

The promise of morning fades away,
I leave the sparrows to their song.
The beckoning of sleep outweighs,
To her familiar warmth I belong.

-b.m.

Rhythm

      She doesn't need someone else's music to dance.

She 

            sways

to  

              the 

rhythm 

         of

  her

              own
damn

              heart.

-b.m.

Brewing

Something is stirring from deep within;

My hands are shaking.

My body is quaking.

A storm is brewing beneath my skin.

Like a dormant volcano inactive for years;

The pressure is building.

The air is chilling.

Threatening to erupt are my deepest fears.

The explosion, by nature, is cruel and relentless;

The screams are shattering.

The tremors are battering.

The victim, my spirit, is weak and defenseless. 

The screaming hushes and the shaking stills;

My soul is hollowed.

Then darkness follows.

Hauntingly silent, my loneliness kills.

Back to dormancy, I quiet once more;

The smoke clears.

Dried are the tears.

How long it will last, I cannot be sure.

I cannot be sure.

-b.m.

twenty one years

twenty one years i have lived.

i have grown.

have felt.

twenty one years i have not found love.

i have not received love.

have not made love.

twenty one years my heart has waited.

my heart has ached.

has yearned.

twenty one years of being polite.

of being supportive.

being patient.

twenty one years of suppressed words.

of suppressed feelings.

suppressed desires.

twenty one years without your eyes on mine.

without your hands on mine.

your lips on mine.

.

.

what will the next twenty one bring?

-b.m.

Sparrow Song of Laughter

The sparrow sings his happy song, 

As clouds slowly roll along,

The summer night of mercy,

On the golden shores of Jersey.

His chirps of laughter bathe my 'tentive ear,

A sound familiar, and one I love to hear,

His joy abounds, to sing his cheery tune, 

In the midst of a dewy morn' in June.

His celebration lasts the whole day,

His life fulfilled, as if to say,

What joy must be to sing his song of laughter,

Without a fear of sorrow after. 

-father of the moth
(d.m.)

Speechless

Oh the frustration of

not finding the

right words.

It eats away at me,

like vultures on 

the dead.

-b.m.

Fallen Star

What a heartbreaking thing,

For an asteroid or comet.

Once above as a mighty king,

Now a rock so common. 

I wish I was on the moon,

Dancing among the stars.

I'd fly up like a balloon, 

Take a scenic route past Mars.

Up there I'd be alive and free,

Away from this horrible place.

Think how wonderful it would be,

Floating peacefully in space.

Here my soul is constrained,

Weighed down by gravity.

To the earth it is chained,

Dreaming of the galaxy.

You see I'm simply not meant,

To flourish within this planet.

Patiently awaiting my ascent,

For now I am all but stranded.

-b.m. 

Don't Blink

How it it, that
in a blink
of an eye,
all of life can
pass you by?

Once you were two,
life was so simple.
The cow said moo,
no stressing a pimple.

Then you were eight,
things were still good.
No worries of weight,
toy swords of wood.

When you turned sixteen,
things seemed different.
You dreamed of prom queen,
some friends had drifted.

Now you're twenty,
soon out on your own.
Saving every penny,
paying student loans.

Soon you'll be thirty,
finally settled down.
Making use of your degree,
feet firmly on the ground.

Eventually you'll be sixty,
enjoying your time.
Grandkids playing with kitty,
happiness at its prime.

Finally at the end,
you'll look back and say,
I cannot comprehend
how it felt like a day.

-b.m.

Deceived

i am here in the dark,
thinking of what you said.
oh the lies you bark,
as i lay tired in my bed.

it's 3 a.m., winds howling outside,
rain desperate to come in.
a storm from which i cannot hide;
heart aching for what might've been.

this tired feeling is deep within,
body, mind, and soul.
reparation i can't even begin;
slowly taking its toll.

it feels as though nature knows,
as she yells her thunderous roar.
her painful cry of tortured woes;
to a lost love she bitterly swore.

but fear not, the storm will pass,
as thoughts of you subside.
succumbing to some sleep at last;
with that, i am satisfied.

-b.m.

Unidentified

Who Am I?

The color of my hair?

The clothes that I wear?

The touching of my thighs?

The circles under my eyes?

The petiteness of my feet?

The food that I eat?

The dimple in my chin?

The paleness of my skin?

The grades of my tests?

The size of my chest?

The secrets that I hide?

The times that I've cried?

Who Am I?

(b.m.)

Solace

I seek solace within nature,

In moment of utter despair.

No presence is there greater;

For loneliness I cannot bare.

First, 

I hear the gossiping trees,

Whose whispers fill the air.

Curses travel with the breeze;

To the woodpeckers they swear.

Second,

The restless stream passing by,

We've little time to chat.

To each other we never lie;

A simple tit-for-tat.

Next,

Always one to voice an opinion,

The cardinal's never shy.

Loudly claiming his dominion;

Must he constantly pry?

Last,

The sound of a howling tune,

From where else but the wind.

As a wolf to the full moon;

Confessing of all his sin.

The sounds occupy my tired soul,

Quieting my destructive mind.

Slowly filling the hollowed hole;

Dissipated are thoughts unkind.

-b.m.