This Poem was Submitted By: Mandie J Overocker On Date: 2011-02-12 22:10:07 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Crying Eyes

The pen spills the words through its ink,  by a hand of the heart split wide open.  Writing so quickly trying to keep up the heart spills out as the words race on.  So smile young one for now the time’s come to stand in the light and push back the night.  Now come close my friend and listen again; the story’s about to begin.  Into the night as they take flight - And dreaming yields the tender fields; Birds floating on air blue skies float by  Green trees stand tall above flowers so small Purple daisies, yellow moon -   Pluto’s flying through doom and gloom.  Bright red sun burns pale white skin;  cool pool waters refresh within.  Tiny bubbles rise to the surface;  each new thought arise within  a tiny spark, a flame it bright,  telling truth from lying night.  Glances into long past memoirs,  Events foreshadow lifelong glimpses A shade of grey effaces a memory turned black  Now we see there is no turning back.  Stare ahead, up the road though no one is home  Little pink gowns, frilly things down  upside tiny legs torn apart, twirl round n round till girlie fell down. Dizzy of such long faces that tell of sad Blue’s story;  the story that comes from the well that’s deep in the cave. Down in the pit, little ones cry out for a spell  as they sit surrounded by fears drowning in tears.  Evil lurks in dark places; but drying their eyes,  the young ones are surprised by those gentle of old  years who comfort and hold, give courage for bold  littles who speak out their truth and yell  their story from down in the belly of hell, the black hole and beyond.  Of little girls’ frightened stares  From girlie frills puckered lips  Let it slip crying eyes, crying eyes let it slip.  Tear stained faces, blood filled paces  The night away, ecliptic moon,  Where is Neptune?  Stranger in a strange place does an about face,  smile for the camera dear, turn like this,  look like that, but never forget the sex appeal.  Daddy’s friends like you wide, so try not to hide  in fact sit like that and tip up your hat.  Smile a big grin show what’s within a pure and innocent heart is slashed with a big black mark.  Lies they told, slaves they made; butterfly free a garden spade.  Clubs, hearts and diamonds - turn your next trick and  get the book, now aren’t you slick? She sold her soul to live but it was her life she’d give  to a prison of walls and space and silence.  She built up the walls of brick, mortar and tears till no one could see her again through her fears.  She hides in the lie once more waits to die.

Copyright © February 2011 Mandie J Overocker

This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2011-02-16 08:38:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Your poem is written with both courage and defeat. Particularly enjoyed your 2nd verse with the chosen words and visuals it created. It seems to go back and forth causing me to hesitate a little - the message is clear knowing that dark haunts from the past emerge throughout the poem - I was hoping you would end this piece with the encouraging part - to make it stand out and show how the sufferings in life can be overcome - and one can shine above the painful past. Good poem, blessings, Deni

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2011-02-13 12:49:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Mandie, this is as powerful a poem as I have read. It is possibly my favorite of yours. Always in a piece like this the heart cries out for the story that is framed. It is obviously not a pleasant story. You have taken the emancipation of the little girl, from the difficulty, and also framed the adult world in ways that leave the imagination and empathy flowing. Your “tear stained faces” is enough to break the heart of any reader, story or not. As I reached the last stanza, the “pure and innocent heart is slashed” resounds with clarity and regret. The contradiction of “it was her life she’d give” and the truth is beyond the scope of the piece, but is the heart of each word. I looked for redemption, even at the end- there was guilt and despair. “Prison” is a difficult place to escape from. A tremendous piece of work.
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