Secret Screams

December 13, 2007 § 2 Comments

Her thoughts
which I decided to terminate
are one-dimensional
(primary thoughts),
all positive;
but, I covered all the bases-
positive and negative.

Why don’t you make up
a life story that you never lived?

Sounds like a plan…

Your luggage never gets lost
on an imaginary journey.

Clues are helpful;
negatives are helpful.

What went wrong…
people who are lying,
wanting the perfect details-
people who are not interested
in learning anything.

So sad, so long…

She only wants to convince
everyone around her
that her actions are righteous.

People who are truthful with me-
ask and answer questions.
I’m confident about what I said:
I don’t care how
now I appear to you…
I’m more interested in you
understanding me:
My focus was internal,
from the heart and mind
of a simple woman.

Do I bring you discomfort…
knowing that I know the truth?

We are all not innocent,
Saints included.
I do not resent you:
I feel sorry for you…

A personal truth needs
to be explored further;
maybe not now, but in the future.

The guilty wants me to forget-
change the subject:
mental abuse.

Most everyone goes into battle,
verbal combat unprepared…
You can think clearly,
effectively communicate…

Two days later
after the blow-out or blow-up,
I have no guilt
on writing little truths:
I only have pain.

The bullets I fired
seem war like-
arsenal, weapons of mine
are understandable-for the future;
What about yours?

It’s showtime.

Your lies and hatred are injurious
and I had to protect…
Well, if you want to enter a battle again
with me, be well armed.
I’ve had enough.

I don’t need you by my side:
I don’t need your love.
I won’t be thinking…
of a few names much after this.

Life isn’t easy.
I didn’t cause these problems;
but, you can stop them.
You have the power
and I won’t apologize to you
because what I said…
was the truth, again…
all I would have to do-
is soothe your ego.

I’ve only touched the surface.

You thank me first
before I apologize;
so much stress…
so much left behind…
The Divide.

She will never realize
how selfish she is:
one percent of the problem.

His heart, hers
unstandable upset…
touchy situation-
could have been handled
so differently…
I never accused;
I alluded…

He isn’t being truthful
with himself.
I do not need to comfort…
or say I’m sorry-
to those cheating life.

Why do I keep on writing…
because honor is questioned
and I’m free falling into something…
nothing I’ve written about
for the original thought
was being caught off guard.

Your answers to questions
are always rehearsed…
Don’t try to defend
what everyone knows;
you can’t change
unless you’re willing…

She really misses you…
how do you swallow it and…
let it go-
like it never happened?

I have nothing to think about…
The guilty confesses…
she can be mean.

Does it make you feel good
when you scream at everyone?
Does it make you feel…

He gets off on his screams…
has an excuse for all her actions.

Making excuses…
putting stuff in little minds.
(Stay focused…)

So much hate…
(Stay focused…)

How do you hate someone that bad…
feel that much hate?-
It’s super deep, super bad
(Stay focused…)

He’s mad.
Doing what you did is one thing;
we can get past that…
but lying about it
is something that I cannot deal with,
all too harmful.

Just be honest and we’ll be able
to put this whole thing behind us…

The divide is getting wider I see.

She hides behind the veil,
grabbing for the machine guns
to shoot anyone who comes close.

I don’t want to be around
that insecurity.

Until you come clean,
it won’t be possible for you
to continue shooting here…

The situation is not right
and you know it.
Why don’t you lie some more
to people out of embarrassment,
out of fear…

Putting the hate seed in-
heads, going along with it,
just as guilty.

How do you become awake…
eliminate those blockers
that keep you from seeing
what’s really going on?

You lie the loudest
when you lie to yourself,
the event of another storm.

I hate how it sounds…
Reality never changes…
only our perception of it;
so, how do you see it?

Bullets go through me;
I’m bleeding to death…
So quickly to wind everyone up…
never to hesitate once
you jump right away into the war.

Are you motivated to avoid pain
or you desire to gain pleasure…?

I’m slowly bleeding…
I’m losing sight…
are you-
of the personal truths…
out of anger and ignorance?

It is simple…
my benefit outweighs … lying.

Once, he finds out who he is-
who will comfort him: the coward?-
Under the influence of fear…

When I started writing…
I looked infront of me, inside me…
so many bullet holes…

Can you see the light now
shining inside of me?

Your judgment maybe-

Somewhere out there … someone
is crying really hard; I’m bleeding…
You can’t make sense of it:
Don’t try.

I hear the screams…
all silent…
pain buried in faces…
so deep inside.
No one knows …
where they belong exactly-
their place in the world,
for where they are they don’t wish to be…

Somewhere out there
a mother loves her children so much…
and they don’t realize
or take the time to look within hearts…
Many mothers like this
and history repeats itself all over again
like it did centuries ago.

Cherish the good;
but, learn from your mistakes.
I have and didn’t even know I was making them.

Now, I’ve come, too, see more of the truth…
Go … go on … go on … and get buried-
he says to me.

Our families will never heal until…

…to forgive is not always easy.
How many more secrets…?
let’s shove more in the closet-
until it explodes.

From the outside, it’s beautifully white…
How dark inside…
how very dark.

I don’t mind dying…
there is always pain before birth.


© Sonya Rose

Water Mask

December 13, 2007 § Leave a comment

“Thousands have lived without love, not one without water.” – W.H. Arden


Visions arrive and voices survive
Magical minds will never die.
In dim lit dimensions, I dive-
Days of divinity, shut-eye

Liquefy lines, light reflects
Antique hero, City of steel
Sunsets bleed, cinema connects-
The reality of my rustic reel

Raining hard, lightning’s black

Obscurity in a blue intuitive splash
Pleading with purpose, sinking back
Breathless, sparkling, orange-white flash

Follow me through a screen of leaves
Daring for dangers, serious face of Ocean
Body opens, lower part, make-believes
The Iron Gate swings in constant motion

Handle heavy, hidden in my hand

Sinking with treasures, treading thieves
On Broadway, banging my head, stand
Logic leans low, dawn of red reefs

White sound of keys, hearts lock
Zinc and copper in hair of Venus, she’ll
Wait in the womb, girls of gridlock
Rings of rows, distant dreams, surreal

Written in my eye, equations, multiply

On rainbow stain-glass, first cut, never fear
Love escapes cut-and-dry, pointless lullaby
And fills the sky with despair in hemisphere

Strange languages, pattern of the land
Grey brick buildings, flowing rhythm above
Fallen masters, wrestlers boxing on sand
I swam again from cycles of longing, love

Broken fences, empty houses, crying lambs
Shadows of the tempest, giant phony things
Beautiful bodies form holograms
Harmony kisses away the soft black rings

My irises are green, that awkward grin
Lips touch my cheeks, try to break-free
Surrender and laugh, all the children live-in
A circuit, freedom in a bright color movie

Energy disappears, losing minds, mudflow

Reflections in black and white, one race
Heavenly music glides past so slow
Dancing in costumes as refugees in space

The final girl without a name
Ego laughs, tricksters trespass, all the same
Swimming through temples, mysteries overcame
Barriers, the ascent from brothers of blame

Climbing stairs without steps, principal parts see

The pattern onstage hitting the mark of lies
Upon the making of a moment’s mystery
Bathing my eyes in cold water and slowly rise

Surrender to the surface, a silent screen star
Savage eyes rush to record so to remind
Beauty without meaning, you are
Sleeping immortality, spirituality will find

My soul below water and I anxiously ask-

Fate, will you embrace me without the mask…


© Sonya Rose


In response to My Story found on The Remembering Site

Seized by Forests

December 13, 2007 § Leave a comment

I’m playing darts to the sound of crickets

In a wilderness of dark faces, unfamiliar places;

I sink into midnight, urban thickets-

The storm has ceased. The moon paces…

Shoots with a bow candlesticks

Into my heart, a stranger sits with wicks. Besides-

His handful of burning matchsticks…

He waits for someone. He is patient. He hides.

To the right, another woman stands

Holding the wind, she is silent.

Sings only for a moment in distant lands

Between the present and the colors meant

For her mind; the voice behind

Her soul, dances, takes chances in

White silence, three feathers under masks, the mind

Reveal cathedrals painted in purple tin

Thrown through lots, he lets go; no heartbeat…

Melting on matchbooks, my eyes are burning bittersweet…

There are galaxies inside, shadows of fire,

Fog and crystal; Life is spreading higher…

I am seized by this angry forest, and welding it

Into the exact moment I see fit

To spell your name in candle wax made of twilight

My body is a metamorphosis in the feverish night

I kissed you only once, darker than any pleasure

You are dreaming yourself into a great measure

Of dust spinning a tale of our hunger; the superhighway’s

Threading gold and reveals beings who glow in the Milky Way…

The all seeing-eye trees and the transparent fruits spark

Into breath, into streams of art, beneath the buried bark, the dark.

I will survive pulling stars out of the earth that rise

Upward through your face, your obscure race, reflecting eternal ties…


© Sonya Rose

My Brainstorm

December 2, 2007 § Leave a comment

I was inspired from “Maybe” to write this…
Here it is:

My pen rose and I expressed fascinations
Trying to forget these frustrations
Irresponsible gossip let me be
I spend considerable time and energy
Trying to resolve problems with the insight
Of a mathematician linking black-and-white
Genius and spirituality-

Mathematically, I am ugly;
Yet my intuitive sense is searching for me
To inspire to be
Something fortunately-
I have experienced it; what does occur
The conviction of a final answer-
My sense: There’s no doomsday
Just doomsdays’, I feel this way

I met Mozart once in my dream, behind-
A large piece of music in the Mastermind
One idea, exciting, I thought
His soul was on fire with high winds; he taught
The complete order of inspiration
Telecommunication; I’m not alone in my vocation
His work grows,
And no one quite knows
How long an entire composition
Is finished in someone’s mind; my ambition
Begins before the musical prelude today
A feeling I downplay

In the morning, I glanced at a beautiful man
I missed the obvious; someone stole my superman
So, I listen to Beethoven’s music; mystical
He couldn’t…yet, my soul
Hears and he knows
The musical scores and sounds in his head, goes
No where; always in his head transcendent
Of human suffering and I am touched, underwent
Another miracle
Making it through the night, while I suffer ridicule

Einstein, Newton, Copernicus, and Ludwig
Is still surviving, unimaginable; and a theatrical gig
At 12,000 feet, I am forming in a visionary sense
I am struggling to breathe, another day tense
Their expression is unfamiliar; the lists
Of musicians, poets, painter, scholars, scientists,
And creative people, who will terrify…
Why they do it…I don’t know why
It’s intense; politics
And I come off the mountain, the quick fix

My mother says that I am the lower elite; still
The upper elite are twice as likely to get ill
Unpin the cap to womankind
Intentionally stirring-up intense emotions, I’m refined
To inspire themselves in their creations
My emotional hardship of my life, underestimations
I hide too much pride
Yet you offer your humble inspiration; I hide
Escape with you in real misery,
Our creative city

A mystery, unresolved these experiences; quite
The painful reality of an unhappy family, one more fight
Why are we at risk…? Uncanny, not
Simply talented alone; forget it brother, it’s a long shot…
Is your heart truly imaginative, innovative….?
Our life is secret, did you know…discriminative-
I encourage you to reenlist
You’re in need of more experience; there’s a checklist
Why are still in your nightclothes-
Sitting on your window-sill…thinking of that single rose
Expressing disappointment; you rushed someone’s time
On earth, sent a letter of the dead and wounded your crime

Who is reaching out to the families of the dead?
Rapid thinking, a flood of ideas…in my head
Can we enjoy angelic visions anymore?
Of those who hallucinate…who wants more?
Afflicted with the marvelous capacity of the brain
I’m curious about such an evanescent image…am I insane?
Does your mom wear Army boots?
I am painfully aware of the camp and my roots…

How many thousands were, are sent?
There are no guarantees in visiting and paying rent
The site of this historic event
This is effecting…the confident…
The entire world deeply…
May feel off-key….

Paperwork into the deep trough of time
The remnants of a former battleground; don’t waste a dime
They are fit to fight and we should save….
I appreciate the soldiers; how many more to send to the…let’s brave
Who hopes, proceed with a feeling of communion, say
That unforgettable way
The intensity of their difference; yet we are left pondering
The impoverished human potentiality is a walkway
It doesn’t have to be this way
If we could control
Target the greedy, help today’s death toll;
But, someone will argue with me
My special ability to see
For life uninterrupted, we do nothing…
Another Saturday in blizzard conditions, let’s watch something…

Do we have to prove that a person has wit?
Has to create a masterpiece to proof it?
A rare gift, maybe; but, the artist struggles, exhausted
Confused, and useless to those lying in a warm bed
How about those dedicated souls in turmoil? Why not bother…
Their crying for their mother or father
Lover to save them….every second, I’m crushed
Both my creative and the depressive halves…”mushed”
I am uncertain…sliding down hill some more….
Ten thousand tons of snow…what for…
The snow has to go somewhere…what I snow-blind
How you handle an avalanche…falling into your…rewind
While you are in your shorts coming undone
Sweating in the hot sun

It is the warmest year on record; who out there is a loner?
Things are changing; whose physical vulnerability…who’s a goner
What is your drive…your personals…? My hunger is curbed…
So many are emotionally disturbed
No matter who is doing what…? Whatever income
Do we have the courage to overcome?
Our childhood programming…
The way the brain functions…slamming-
Are we going to crash into hell….?
Some things take time…well,
Jesus is a hard act to follow….
My parent have not quite made it; I swallow
Their struggling, discouraged, I weave
My failure to achieve
My maximum ability…two by two

There are things you can do…
To save your lives I suppose…why fail….
It takes a matter of days to unveil
A new established order…steer clear of war
And move our country forward…The eagle is sore
I cannot repress the politically dangerous ideas
Their contaminating the prevailing…we as
An artistic idealism – chart
The direction, alternative plans have a heart
In the arts and sciences, a star system of stability
…too many cooks, respectability
Are spoiling the broth for half a century….
For the soup of change…too many authorities agree
We’re causing confusion….for the sake of change…gone.
Explain….the shock, fear…barely enough to live on…
Simple dreams are not coming true…
The world wants a future…to grow up…we’re in the blue

God-willing….the minds of intelligent and creative people
Convince the chosen to stop-ringing the bell in the steeple
Close our eyes to the reign of Zion-
To the rescue…defines our reality about the symbol of a Lion.
Who is sane, who is not…reigning
Can you survive…are you just maintaining-
You writers, musicians, artists, composers, actors,
Directors, and athletes…here are the smart factors
The instability of my poetry, soon…
Just a few miles down the road…I resume
My poem will someday end…
And all the wisdom I required, I’ll send…

I am aware of the eagles flying higher…
Of the highest mountain burning in me…the western wire
So many sides of us…the different sides of Einstein, a freeman
Sorrow still reigns after the mushroom cloud over Japan
Enormous pressure, nervous breakdowns, in creating the color-blind…
What degree are you…in humankind; I’m snow-blind
None, mild, marked, or severe…in a win
Do you know Heisenberg, Fermi, Plank, and Edison
Darwin, Pasteur, Rutherford, Bell
Neils Bohr, Boltzmann, Mendel, Michelson, swell…
Strange-love indeed…still threatens us
With the apocalypse…what’s all the fuss?
And my friend, the mathematician is mentally high
Unstable…but, I’d rather hang out with my
Creative friend who has no threat
To humanity…so what he’s in debt.

And, I asked Herman Melville, what the big deal is about Mars
And Moby Dick…HM went away, locked behind window bars
-until he could finish the end…
I can’t possibly measure up…I am tormented, too…my friend
The issues of madness, genius, politics, do in fact overlap….
Don’t they….Churchill, De Gaulle, Lloyd George, Mussolini, and Stalin, nap
Hitler, Bismark, Disraeli, Lincoln, and Woodrow Wilson…the rumbling
Ezra Pound was defeated…..brilliant…yet crumbling…
Through the door, I don’t know…I hear the crying….our fate
Around here….in my country…we somewhat try to be straight…
The power struggle with suitcases in our hands….
We walk in this brutal world…having the courage to travel to faraway lands
To see the world the way it actually is….
I don’t know…I’m no whiz

We’re nervous…who is calling out our names….the Men-In-White?
The Men-In-Black…? If you see adventure, fly like the wind, like a kite
Another mountain to climb….in my head, I know….
The necessities…Take a shot…..taking risks, some low
Departing from reality is one thing….
We really are all tired of something….
Amen…We all lost sometime….
Having second thoughts all the time
What does your beautiful mind see…firepower in the raw-
Under the gun of John Nash…I can’t see anything, never saw…

Let’s take it easy-thinking I am through understanding; yet have the key
The incomprehensible paradoxes of yesterday’s tyranny
So what kind of music….can we promise to painlessly-
Dissolve the ‘ice people’ tomorrow…are we…
I see the destiny of nations in the hands of the insane…doesn’t it seem
The progress of mankind….my friend who is bi-polar extreme
Was inflicted by that mentally unstable scientific genius
Who damaged man and the environment….all riding in a bus…?
Opens the universe to human exploration….takes the chance
Can you hold opposites in balance…?
Focus…should be no separation
Into the depths of a future or our own creation
We are not the fortunate ones: let’s just have fun…
Someone is prying a beautiful girl out of her sun…
That’s not what she really wants…
The scientist willingness to test her ideas, hunts
The greatness from colleagues…not a lunatic….
Protects his creative exploration, grabs a chair to watch her flick
Is there a boundary to separate genius? Do I know the trick…?
A line away from madness, science from magic
Lady Love never smiles at Dr. Strangelove, a sad tone
So how can he break the spell…he realizes she’s all alone
Is anyone out there, he shouts….he’s got to know…
Newton was a magician; modest…he always has a foe

Close my eye…Is there a romantic image for me…?
The heroic rebel who may not have denied God; look-see
He’s fooling me, all-together…
Without uttering the name, not ever
We are loosing the vision all together….
If you really care…the knight of faith….whether-
I tread on holy ground, don’t desecrate it.
Sacred Earth….Orphan of the Universe who’s been hit.

Now, I’m in a lounge, forgetting my neck pain….
Observing everywhere…where love walks in vain
Shoveling dirt, adopting organic culture….malnutrition
Let’s go to the supermarket…important transition.
Glad I take an interest in biology and medicine-the pain
Your secret lies outside the brain…
Did you know…don’t believe everything you read-
Lay off the caffeine…these pills and drugs, slowly feed…
Killing people I know…so many different sizes and colors, a clan
What makes a man hate another man…?
Help me understand; Ecstasy is not leading me to paradise…
So far brainstorming has two meaning; my fingers are a twitching devise
I have a bright idea! Call this poem Jumble Me!
I can’t dream it, will all fit together…ABC’s in the DVD
Let me drift off to space…no trace, no race, and no face
I’m waking and sleeping…The Whiteface
A sudden jerk…I can’t face the night…
I’m in tears; I have to break apart from the suffering…right?

I don’t know what I’m going to do about this feeling inside…
I’m without your love…suffering, in my bed, I hide

I never heard the voice of Christ; but, he is the reason why…
Where’s that area in the brain with mystical experiences? The eternal high-
Can’t help but think of sexual fantasies…still, reading poetry
Designed to evoke my feelings…not ESP
Money now on my mind…

My mother warned me of untold dangers…I grind
The danger of creativity…The Little Prince’s flower
Broke me down…only for an hour
Don’t mess around…the wound and the bow
Let’s embrace if it’s o.k. with you…no?
Let’s rise up…have fiestas…hot, hot, hot
Learn the fear, the change less…our age, spot-
Troubled minds take their lives…trade-in
Dressed-up in my own skin…
No escaping….why some are so pushy, mothers
Attack all others…..

Oh, this new world order…we are aliens in our own lands
I’m crossed-out, worn symbols…shaking dirty hands
My world is now camouflaged….I want to fly-
Not come down….I have fire in my wings, prettify
Reason-to-believe that they’ll do it again…baby steps-by-steps
Operating deep within, guiding our evolutionary foot-steps…
This is urgent…They’re playing tricks on our minds…
We are evolving…waiting in lines
The seal of the creative…human touch of madness
Obsessive quality….unique, sadness

No thought of oblivion….mad in love with art…Fate
My heart is in my head….
So powerful….How are you feeling? There’s ringing…never wed
Who can we believe in….Who I should call now…? Leave-
The stars are still shining…I saw a star shoot on Christmas Eve
And I can’t see any reason…if someone drops and I submerge, my kite
Thinking in quantum burst of energy…my soul’s alright…
Listening to the haunting melody…the one I know by heart (sweat)
Can’t let go…am I dreaming? I can’t believe; I refuse to forget
Who is knocking at my door, at this hour…a junky? Go away (fried)
I’m not here no more; I just wish to be alone…hanging outside…

There’s no sound…I keep to myself…nothing wrong with my state
Of mental health…God plays with loaded dice…love and hate
Future I can see, let’s play…
Disturbs my friend, the scientist who walks by Route 89, that highway
Who can it be now? We are living in? A lie
Extraordinary times…How ordinary are…I?
I’m attracted to plenty…a symphony of souls…
A little bit of this, a little bit of that, Rules
A little bit of me in this kind of passion
I’m entranced by this consuming love, changing fashion

Charged with sexual fever…
Love from afar…unexplored feelings, disbeliever
For the other…it’s all been a game…
I have now discovered a new peak, the loneliest, the same
Of mortal reflection…a sacred moment…sanctify
If you can see…share the intimacy…give someone else a try…
The heavens can open rivers of time part…
Marry me…my world is filled with strange arrangements…one heart
The look of love, promise of paradise…what is your reason for living? Lost keys…
I don’t know all the answers…all the information….these
Intense feelings I all create…never judge the look
By your armor…unleash my knight; I’m standing in the wind…an unwritten book
Not waving good-bye…unaware you are…I am
It’s understandable….should I try like Steven Crane, John Lennon, Paul Gauguin,
Leo Tolstoy, Frank Lloyd Wright, Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, Eugene O’ Neill,
And George Orwell….who cares about poor grades….What do you feel?
Looking for an answer…trying to find the design….
I am still singing the lost-love song from those days-ran over, behind
Get back to the beauty of a naked Greek goddess, exposed in private…
My instinctive channels….intercommunicate
That music of that one human voice is memorizing, born out of time….
So little time…I’ll be coming back for more to my mountain-my rhyme
It’s not something which really exists, so abstract….
But, I have this streak of wildness….of madness, as a matter of fact

Suppressed for years…
I turn to Nature…to the night, in my fears.
To my pillow…not truly isolated, plugged into space
A network of beauty-brilliant revelation, birthplace
Programmed into the Renaissance, I find
In my theater of sleep…in my emotionally torn mind…
The cast shares a common sorrow….contagious grief
Makes me sweat from the bright lights; Make it brief
Their endured mental and physical agony
Does not destroy them; we don’t forget our lines; “to-be, or not to-be”
Why we are on stage…who we are performing for…
Stepping into the start of the Twilight Zone…our allure
My mind spreads its wings, return to being upside down…hauntingly, beautiful sound.
We’ll sing and dance to a new song; the feeling never goes away, I’ve found.


© Sonya Rose

Forbidden Love

December 2, 2007 § Leave a comment

“No matter how he tried he could not break free.” – Pink Floyd


Caught standing in a smoke-filled room.
A drummer gets ready for swift death.
I took one slow moving breath.
The first warhead opened its heavy perfume.
He hissed and came closer with flames.
Slowly burning, he rose under my feet.
So sensitive, loving and caring, concrete,
Reality was rumbling the floor of shames.
His hands made me speak secrets, sadden spirit.
Leaves his hand to make love under the moon-
He lies to people about what he does in every room.
He is a lord of tactics, a champ who will dispirit.
Nobody he knows grows numb from the front down…
Only I noticed changes in his rhythm, still businesslike.
The drummer likes to be liked, a leech to your psych.

For long hours in the night, I had no contact cross-town.
The mornings thereof he would slowly depart-
Those feelings of guilt, he was so slumberous sweet.
My love stroked my skin under a red satin sheet.
Dancing with hands, he played songs from the heart.
The golden triangles in my ear-
Suddenly, built a mathematical equation-
Sound the colors of love, a blind formation.
Make one from one and one clear.

The drummer shouts the invincible on top of me.
He looks in the mirror and looks great.
When it comes to eating he’d rather wait.
For he is aroused once again, glee and free.
His temperature rises and he’s feeling almost dizzy.
I felt his heart race and his heat.
His attacks of anxiety occur on a one-way street.
Swept in crystalline dust, he is far too busy.
Sadly, he is sharing nothing that’s real.
Promises he could never keep.
The consequences of his actions roll skin-deep.
In the city, he tries more bitter candy to heal.
Now, my God has turned this face to the light.
I see painted sacred symbols incised with demons faces.
In the mirror of the miraculous three Graces,
He keeps drumming in hopes to reunite.

Cutting all five fingers of his hardened hand,
A one-carat diamond fades in a ring of snow,
Sensitive skin draws pain from one big blow,
My lover lives in wonder, fantasy, and wasteland.
Who am I? I am the drum, the woman of his dreams.
He cannot see me because he can no longer sleep.
Flashes of changes, no dreams, he prays his soul to keep.
Joins the trembling teams-
Alone, I stand in the middle of one last fight.
To survive, I must wait in unsynchronized silence.
I hear one heartbeat, the dance suspense.
My love continues after his affair with Lady White.


© Sonya Rose

Letter to a Flying Queen: Sylvia Plath

November 18, 2007 § Leave a comment

In Celebration of National Poetry Month: April 2007, I had written a letter to American Poet Sylvia Plath—from here to the afterlife titled “Letter to a Flying Queen”:

Dear Sylvia,

What does an average woman talk about? What does it say about me when I’m strangely fascinated with your life? You are the Queen in the mirror flying; tumbling down heaven’s staircase is your crown, before my feet. Are you speaking finally to God? What does he say about the war? I am on this empty road together with my brothers and sisters with heavyhearted fears. I am disturbed; I am writing our pain where dreams are realized and suddenly destroyed. The rest of my letters are in a place called “nowhere”, my mind. There were others, too, who shot the blood out of my head, ripped my heart out with their hands. There is no stopping pain. It flew once through your veins; it flows now through mine and the living world.

Oh, what is “Daddy” like? Is he God? Was he disturbed as you were once with the world the way it came to pass? Why didn’t He stop you (from taking your life …) from writing more? Hey, did you know you won a Pulitzer Prize? Why weren’t you honored sooner while you lived? What is it like on the other side of life? Intense? Can you ever love too much without dying?

Well, I must get out of these sleeping clothes, out of my restless dreams, into the disorder of poetic order never to make sense.

Poet to Poet,
Sonya Rose


Letter to a Flying Queen “Sylvia Plath” by Sonya Rose {poetry video on YouTube}

Note: What I admire most about Sylvia she did live her life to the extreme, and had an intense passion for life.

The Keeper of the Mind

October 21, 2007 § 2 Comments

Record all the thoughts: Solomon’s Seal-I’m thinking.
Let me rethink the treasure in Maurice Maeterlinck.
The Bleeps of The Real: Blinking, Winking, Sinking, Linking-
A fantasy: blink, wink, sink…link-
The sick thought in my mind-the meaning of proximo…
They’re hoping to find love shine.
The rocket flare through Windows come Prospero.
They’re trained Brother, in-much esteem; watch…
suffering, turmoil…The economy set-up wires.
Pain, lies…Marry the right people…match, attach, mismatch-
A quarter in heaven are singing for you-choirs.
I, self, am greater than the organized mind. The Nation…
I am love; I am model…I know right from wrong.
I’m digging…I’m into helping as much as creation.
I felt a principal, bionic zero-hers, a belly-drop, so long…
26 year old-moving…Oh, Sarah, her mother relies on me-
cares deeply…Something how The Three are developed funny.
So dramatic…I’m suffering partly with one, the peace treaty.
Helpless, my hurt, my heart…Open more spam, money.
Indignant, try not to follow…They’re safe keeping-the sick.
Honor, men and women…I’m about meltdown, nuclear fission.
What I’m designed to do…They’re starving, anemic.
Yes, they’re worse. It was because of him, their mission.
Aboard….I’m on the verge…I’m losing…I’m ultramarine.
Going down-the button is there, a borrowed attack.
Impromptu reading: I hope we do well to design.
Hearsay the bubble…Seal it up into the drawing. Back-
The human leisure, the potential aircraft, the lepers’ wages…
Still strong-with sickle cell anemia-serves.
Having anatomy recorded for-recalling of the ages.
Real exclusive…K-institutes, the thing I’m hearing, curves;
I’m several hundreds of Intrepids’…stuck around-
Sisters and Brothers all alike: The Lost, The Found, The Glory Bound…

© Sonya Rose

War of the Brains

October 21, 2007 § Leave a comment

I’m a surfing computer geek
Frustrated at the weak havoc
In my life, survival freak
Of intellect, the laughing stock
To my flaky cranial twin
Two sides disagree
Emotional turmoil shut-in
My right brain protest in 3-D
Working together, my ability
For optimal mental, What?
Writer’s blocks save me in ABC
Sensory living in a deprived lot
My right sneaks right in
My consciousness, ask to marry me
Filling my mind with emotions again
And visual vignettes, an open sea
Of associated images, so free
Finding expressions in dreams
Left asserts itself just to be free
Logical diminere, dominant regime
It’s too late, looking in a mirror
There nothing you can do…
You see me? The book’s getting clearer
No review, a self-confrontation is overdo
Victims in time, my friends
Are lost, holding onto something
A symbol of major change lends
Itself to the outer world’s King
Don’t go out! You will get burned-
When sad’s going out, future of no point
Cameras on the porch, slowly turned
To a radial fall-out, situation to appoint
A protector, trials being reflected
Back to you, the energy source
Clock in my head, slowly collected
My neighbor’s flag of Japan; our home force-
Pay attention, recharge, be stable
Find place of safety, process your status
Can you transcend one life’s lesson? Unable…
Some organization order on ship, an apparatus
A shark, a nightly dream I’ve held without a threat
A decoy, able flashes of innocent eyes I’ve met


© Sonya Rose

Snail Mind

October 7, 2007 § 2 Comments

Zen mind, the virgin mind

Please empty my mind for anything…

Resurrect its opening: Embracing everything.

Many possibilities slowly I must find~

But in the experts mind there are few…

I think that I already knew.

I am much less open when I am not two.

I have stopped looking for clues to blast through…

The learning curve tapers off as soon as I say

I don’t know,

So, I am opening neural circuits where I must go~

To search for information, solutions may

Have me holding all the resources I need already…

What is it that has been getting in the way?

My conscious mind day after day…

I want to turn the mirror back around to see~

That I have been conditioned all through my life,

My conscious mind was dumped in the passenger’s seat,

The source of all decision making heat.

My greatest ally is my unconscious mind, a dull-bladed knife…

Never cutting into the question: Can I learn to trust

That part of me, the guide in my words and behavior?

I had learned techniques which made me braver.

I’m not memorizing scripts anymore word for word; I must-

As in any other skill master the steps and the formation

But I never wish to get stuck…

If I had at least thought it through … No such luck.

A few years ago, I found myself in a situation;

I had few days to gather life changing information,

Establish rapport, elicit goals, and induce the trance.

Forget my visions and rediscover a new glance.

I have been seen before in this trance, east elation…

The admonition to trust my unconscious~

Emptying my mind and paying full attention in uptime~

The initial panic which I might feel early on in a rhyme…

My conditioned reflexes were looking for the conscious.

My security blanket and I were freaking out when going

Into a spin of not having a single clue as to what I was going to do

I repeated to relax and breathe; paid attention to an inward clue…

The selection of my words and began a sentence without knowing

Yet how it was to be completed: Verbal expression not always will win…

Consciously my brain was involved, identified language with choice

As involving knowledge beyond that voice

To complete my sentences, talk concepts, ideas, and experiences to win

Through language, I have intuitively selected words

That described tonality and phrases, expressed the internal whole

Once I understood, I was willing to give up conscious control

For the wonderment of watching and listening to the city birds

Genuine and spontaneous, I was in the present moment, my lot~

I bought time from the maker who said to always use my gut

Am I now willing to take the greatest risk and act out of a rut?

My first thought this moment is my best brilliant thought…

I heard myself saying ” … Change” in a silent film forever…

I have often found myself in awe

And mystified by how my unconscious saw

Could have been so clever…

I, my conscious mind, could never have thought

In thousands of years the scattered series of visions

All metaphoric … Could never have constructed these incisions

The right combination of phrases and stacked stories, caught

In my conscious mind one intelligent being…

Listening to my unconscious mind, I do not hide…

Let my unconscious be my guide…

I should have been a hell of a lot smarter … freeing

The Mastermind of slowing seeing


© Sonya Rose

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