Letting go...
Not all memories of the past are good ones. Many of Peter's experiences as a child were horrific in the extreme. Like every poet, he often uses his verse to reflect on these memories and to work through the torment of those years. Intensely personal and , these poems offer a glimpse into the pain and confusion of child abuse. It is our payer that those of you who have experienced this yourself can find some healing in these words...
the closetThis dream I dream is from the past
Of my punishment of doing wrong From the years of my youth in darkness cast Those many lonely hours long In my prison I could hear my heart beat Even through the tears I so often shed My pounding at the door to be released My fingers scraped to a bloody red Then listening to the yelling and screaming From those people who were supposed to give me love Yet! through their greed they gave me bad dreams Like being buried under their feet above Please let me out of this cold dark gave That I have been forced to stay in for hours I’ll do as you say and work my way For I now know I am your slave under your power. secretsWords whispered in silence
Motions timelessly made Walking in various circled dimensions History’s parchment revered and gave The redness in the eyes searching in vain Wanting the cries to end that never perish To be gathered in my soul and waned Secrets never ending words that quickly flash Before my mind and open ears Visions of my Heritage of years past By nights dreamed horrified and feared Now walking upon my level of time Encircled by passions and desires Drenched with those secrets of mind That within my heart and soul inquires For now I need not to ask The secrets have been revealed In glory I absorb nourish and bask In these promises of life sealed a letter to motherDear Mom, it now makes sixty years.
Since I had lost your beauty to hold. I was only but a child filled with tears. From the many stories of untruth told. I’m sorry I ran away from you at the train. I never would have had the truth been told. Through these years the fact of Life in me remains. That you were more precious than diamonds and gold. I want to thank you mom for the gift you gave. That I have inherited through my heart and soul. From the words you left behind with others. As you sought shelter from the cold. Mother each word I write are of your love. That you were denied on this earth I now abide. I give you my Praise through our Lord above. As I traverse this journey with your spirit in me is ALIVE. |
cat o' nine tailsWith open eyes and endless thoughts
I reflect upon the pain in my back Asking myself why my mind was wrought Of the whippings for which I did not ask Each time I felt the stinging pain I would think of my mother I did not know Of the loving kindness of my sister Who in my dreams protected me from each blow I asked myself back in younger days Why was I taken away with such haste? Then I recalled as my loved ones would say I was lying in my own waste So dear Lord the sands of time has past And the scars of my body have healed Looking back those fifty years passed The answers of my crying heart have been revealed. Nightmare or Reality
I sit and stare through window wide
Asking myself why this is happening to me? Have my Mom and Dad really died? Why won’t they let me free? I miss the last home I was in Why was I shoved out the door? When can I have a lasting friend? Why can’t I have my own cat or dog to adore? The crying and screaming are scaring me Why it’s the reflection of my own tears I see If only the lady would take my hand To go to another home would be so grand I guess I’ll go back to sleep To return to my peaceful dreams deep Resting again in my mothers arms As she keeps me away from all these fears and harm tears of hopeI cry for the children who reach out in vain
For words of endearment they once gained Were they not little precious bundles of joy? Now it seems in their presence they annoy Mothers and Fathers drifting apart From the solemn vows they pledged of the hearts Slaps and curses have replaced the caress From the daily routine of creative stress We cry for the love to return to these souls So the future of these children they can nurture and mold That they may reach out for the enrichments of life Having pride in themselves by choosing the path that is right I pray dear Lord that you wipe away the tears Of these adults and children who have lived in fear Let the power of your love abide and multiply in their hearts As this journey free of violence embarks. |