51. Prisoner of Sunlight

Exam week has begun! Oh, the stress keeps building up! Also, this constant isolation from my friends and from regular school life has gotten me pretty down in the dumps. Sitting at home studying all day isn't all that fun... With no distractions except for history notes on my mind, I start looking back at past events- usually disturbing ones, that crowd my inner peace and totally distract me from studying! I'm actually supposed to be studying at the moment, but in order to achieve at least some peace I wrote a poem about this tunnel in my head... It seems like I'm over analayzing past situations over and over again and I'm sure that that's not healthy! You can't change what happened, but you can change what will be. Have to take my own advice sometimes! Ha,

enjoy my poem.

I am a prisoner of my mind
I am a slave of my very own brain
Flashbacks clog inner peace
And restrain me from becoming sane

Thoughts; they arrive with no knock on the door
Barge in as if they were good
I huddle and sink deep into this past-tense world
This world so difficultly understood

I am aware, living in past tense
Is the absolute worst thing a person can do
With it comes denial, hatred, regret
Until I can't differentiate from what's dreams and what's true

At the end of the dark, hollow tunnel
Rays of sunlight creep in and smile
Illuminating my heart, moving on forward...
Knowing this pleasant emotion will merely last some while

I can reach that light, I know I can
But every time I look in the past I move further from hope
Until I will be stuck in that tunnel with not a shed of light
Infinetely waiting for someone to pass me a rope

Life only moves forward
Just like an eagle, it never looks back
You can't changed what happened, but you can change what will be
The tunnel will not always be black

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We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye

Lost in Rio

Jesus looks over The lost souls and bones below In the jungle sun To witness such beauty And such devastation God painted with one brushstroke Merry men sing Holes in their shoes The dark night lit up By police sirens And the crescent moon Bats flail around Like me, lost in the jungle Eyes glaring all around I hope they're monkeys Or jaguars I hope I can keep a piece of This country with me Safe in my pocket It smells like tropical rain And feels like The clam shells Washed up on the shore It tastes like fried bananas And heavily salted steak Sounds like seabirds cawing Samba on the streets And looks like a page From a storybook About parrots and palm trees Of finding a golden treasure A magnificent, uneasy place When she sun goes down So do we Leaving the night To the creepy crawlers And innocent stray cats

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you

Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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