More Poetry

I wrote this a year or so ago before I knew I have MPD. It was very strange when I wrote it, because I could hear different voices (an elderly man and a 20's something woman) in my head having this conversation, but at the time I didn't realize that is what was happening. It all makes sense now. Kendra

SILENCE
"I feel".

"And"?

"That's the point.
I feel,
But I do not comprehend
The words I need to express what I feel.
It's everything and nothing".

"I feel."

"Again with the feelings".

"Shhhh!
I feel as if I speak a language so old
It hasn't been made up yet".

SILENCE!

Yes, silence just for a moment.
Please just silence.
Kendra

First
rose
on my
rose tree
budded,
bloomed,
and shattered.
During
sad days-
when,
to me,
nothing mattered.
Grief
of
grief
had drained
me
clean.
Still,
it
seems
a pity.
No one saw,
...it must
   have been...
        very,
            very,
               pretty...
Submitted by: Amanda Pennington

I have been diagnosed with DID since 1990.

I Love candles
      and butterflies
Summer
      and pretty eyes
Children
      with their simplicity

I love flowers
     and sunny skies
Happy thoughts
     without the lies
Fragrant baths
     alone with me

I love simple chats
     and flowing hair
Happy cats
     without a care
Rolling hills
     so endlessly green

I love cuckoo clocks
     with pretty tune
warm nights
     with yellow moon
Fireflies
     so seldomly seen
Do you know what I mean?

I love flowers
   that bloom in spring
A pretty pond
   with mirror sheen
Little ducks
   with babies behind

I love blackberries
   fresh from the vine
Cherished friends
   I can call mine
Bright colors
    of every kind

I love fireworks
    loud in the sky
Different people
    walking by
A smile
    from a stranger to me

I love Swallows
    with their mud nest
working so hard
    so they can rest
Knowing that
     nothing is for free

When everything
   is black and gloom
All the bad
    just seems to loom
I go
    to my special place

Where all the things
    I love so much
Are all around
    with a special touch
From the Hand
    reaching down from space

To save me
          again.....

Submitted by: Kris Klein-Scherle

The Un veiling of Fear

a chink in the armor
of a lifetime
makes me bleed
and then with a needle and thread
I piece back together the only thing I know how to sew
I've been swing for years
Never buttons
Just metal
It hurts the fingers
And the threads get weak
And more pop open with Each chink

A crack in the armor
the blood soaks the floor
There are too many pieces
they fall through my arms
a flood of fear
a river of terror
an ocean of screams that were never heard

When I am afraid
I want to be heard
I want to be held
I want to be told
"it must be scary
whatever you fear
how can I help you
take my hand
we will get through this together"

I don't want to keep sewing
I hate sewing
and the armor is so heavy

Submitted by: sarah

This is a poem i wrote about my best friend, its called:

THE DAY WE MET!

On the day we met
though I didn't know yet
there were three of you to know
but it really didn't show

The young one with his baby blue's
that are so warm & true
and that cute smile
I'd walk a mile
to spend time with you.

Then there's the middle one
now he's the real one
so passive and easy going
probably the only one that's knowing

Lets not forget old bossiee
you're my eyes and ears
when I can't see or hear

So what am I to do?
I need all three of you
Please don't say goodbye
Lets give it another try

love your friend, Dad, Brother and lover forever,