Dangerous Game

Dangerous Game

 

I am alive but do not feel-

My affect, as a silently beeping heart monitor

As when a person is dying.

 

At the early dawning,

I lie upon a urine stained carpet,

Playing games with fire.

 

Inside of the depths of my mind,

My body rigid, my eyes are void of tears-

I lie alone, constricted inside of a circle of irate madness.

 

I play games with fire-

My thoughts come to life within a staccato rhythm.

My voice, shouting through a telephone-

I vociferate with never abating rage.

 

I set this world on fire.

Shrill sirens are ranting and sailing through the streets-

No heed to stop signs-

My demons are dancing to the sound of accelerated dirges.

 

The sun has risen over mountains of bedlam.

The clock on the sallow, cracked wall ticks rhythmically.

As the skies darken. bleak clouds obliterate the sunlight-

A sorcerer paints the skies black with abrupt and angry strokes.

 

They have come to take me away.

I am alive, my spirit, numbed, sirens are whistling

As into a megaphone, loudening and bellowing madness.

I played with fire, igniting a world that is not my home.

 

I find myself alone, locked inside of a cold iron chamber,

Pacing forward, then backward in no direction…

The fire that burns inside of my gut is rising to sear my mind-

 

I play games with fire- I am still alive

I am alive but I do not feel….

 

Claudia Krizay

 

My Spirit, Reborn

Spirit Reborn

An autumn-like day, A clouded sky and
I am alone with my thoughts-
It was if clouds that were light,
Allowing a ray of sunlight to shine through
Suddenly transformed to rain clouds-
Gray and elusive,
Then to thunderclouds,
But the only thunder I could hear was
The anger raging inside of my mind-
Crying, though without the tears,
I call myself a lost soul
Alone on a summer’s afternoon-
My spirit robbed of its peace of mind,
The reason why is a complete mystery.
Night has passed and upon awakening-
Plagued by voices so cruel and intimidating,
As I am alone in this room,
I know they are none but a figment of my
Frantically disturbed imagination and
As my presently wounded spirit evades me, I have lost all hope,
I have lost the desire to persevere.
Another autumn like day- I feel the cool and gentle breeze
Tip-toeing through an open crack in my bedroom window-
No clouds cover the sky on this early June morning-
This sky, a magnificent cobalt blue-
I hear a chorus of singing nightingales-
As beautiful as a concerto written for me alone and
I ask myself why do I feel like dying?
Frightened, angry and mistrustful,
I am alone with my thoughts..
I unlock the key to my imagination and allow
That cool and gentle breeze to enter my mind and
Some type of sorcery is woven inside of that breeze as it
Chases away the anger, the fear, the anxiety-
It replaces it with optimism and tranquility, as
I come to the realization that in spite of the storminess that has
Ruled my past and all of the hope and well-being cruelly snatched from me
As far back as I can remember-I am fortunate to be alive and so many friends have
Given me roses and peonies to placate the fear that has for a lifetime tormented me-
Here alone with my thoughts, my spirit that was robbed of its peace of mind-
That spirit is dancing in the early summer’s breeze- has been reborn….

Claudia Krizay