These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

Questions to a clown



How does it feel
to laugh from without
yet find
it echo
in a hollow space
within?
to run as far
as you can
yet know
one day
the answers will
draw you back
again?
to move on
as if
what you refuse
to face
will never come back
haunting?
to be happy
in words
in pictures
in being seen?
to insist to be
alright,
and just
ignore
your self
who's in there
grieving?



ps. enough.please stop running.
7:33 PM 12/3/2013
image from Skeeter Davis' The Face of a clown

August Bernadette 

Morning



warmth seeps
into white cup
and stirs
the slumbering granules
into a most potent brew.


5th September 2013
August Bernadette 

Northern stars

you were The One
or so, I thought
until i got
my heart broken
and wounded
and open
to hate and to things I'd rather not name

but i persisted
and tried to stay sane
regardless
of pain

you are still light
however the darkness
that threatened to overcome
my spirit
because of you

you point the way
to healing
to forgiveness
to strength
to growth

you are but One
stop along the way
towards The One
that awaits
my homecoming.

11:53 PM 10/4/2013


August Bernadette 

noah's ark.



shush! 
off you go 
today and tomorrow is mine 
to give 
to live 
to spend waiting, singing, dancing 
as candid, as crazy, as true. 
soon i pray i can 
say the same for you. 
August Bernadette






Cradled




Crushed was
an ever fragile heart
yet tenderly
You held it in Your hands
breathed love
and made it into
this beautiful, precious version
of me.





August Bernadette 

peyups



i miss
early morning talks
brewed coffee
long walks, dancing
under falling orange blossoms
of firetrees in summer.
towering sunflowers
where
no zombies are allowed
to eat brains;
the bronze man
in his glorious nakedness;
talking to
empty fields and trees
that listen.
heartbreak hill.
engglib2.
gonzalez hall.
breathless runners
at the acad oval.
and the encouragements of Zorro.

i miss
your micro-climates
and your microcosm.
you were also my own
little world -
won over with sweat and tears
and not a small number of years;
and one  I'd always
return to.

August Bernadette 

THE DIFFERENCE



no band-aids, no dressing,
no stitches, no glue
need them no more
already good as new

how come, asked they
were there elves last night
or fairies that turned up
a stitch or two?

nothing grand,
only that
last night when it was darkest
i offered my patched-up heart to You.



**all Glory to You my Heart-Keeper and Light-Giver

August Bernadette 

Sing-Song.

 
leave me be
with the demons inside my head
just let me
lash out and cry inside instead
so far, too far, have been exorcising these
yet they come, still,
giving me no reprieve.

sometimes, at times, can't help but think
if confronting them is but another excuse
to run away, far away, yet again
from things i can't help but feel
yet still refuse.

so far, this far, is the story of my most recent life
as the world spins by
i am so losing time.
kill what? take what?
so what?

so far, i have been just
looking for senseless rhymes.



August Bernadette

Home


through your many shadowed moods
i'll walk.
i'll take my time.
i'll learn.
i'll follow.
and at the end of every day,
i'll be there.

for you.

August Bernadette
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