Cup of Tea Poetry

I cry because I’m sad Or ... I’m sad because I cry I'm not aware of the difference I don't know if there is a difference God, I’d give anything to be stronger I’d give it all up to just not crumble I wish more than anything not to have to try to keep it all together I’m postured in a state of defeat I try to remember the motivating words Try to recite the uplifting scriptures They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength Weeping may endure for a night...joy comes in the morning Yet, my beating heart throbs My core feels bruised And my soul feels weakened I can’t see pass the right now The light doesn’t shine for me The tunnel is closed. Liken to Dunbar’s verse… I too wear a mask! 2011 ®  

W E wear the mask that grins and lies,     It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—     This debt we pay to human guile;     With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,     And mouth with myriad subtleties.     Why should the world be over-wise,     In counting all our tears and sighs?     Nay, let them only see us, while             We wear the mask.     We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries     To thee from tortured souls arise.     We sing, but oh the clay is vile     Beneath our feet, and long the mile;     But let the world dream otherwise,             We wear the mask! This is another one of my favorite poems! Enjoy!

I SHALL know why, when time is over, And I have ceased to wonder why; Christ will explain each separate anguish In the fair schoolroom of the sky.    He will tell me what Peter promised,         5 And I, for wonder at his woe, I shall forget the drop of anguish That scalds me now, that scalds me now. This poem is one of my all time favorite poems ever. It is by Emily Dickinson, whom is one of my favorite poets. It is copied from www.bartleby.com

 The scars have disappeared But the wounds are still there There where I used to cut and tear into the flesh that had betrayed me. There was no redemption in my blood No salvation through my bruises But I could say those words And finally explain my plight Without even parting my lips Shhh... to where I hurt inwardly Providing a momentary visual appearance to my anguish The physical made it real Now its not just in my head But its on my skin Shocked at my own ability To cast such raw affliction upon myself I've used pain to stop pain Its real Though my cuts have been healed I am not whole... But I'm on my way

I’m free to fly with words… With thoughts Perceptions Feelings Free to explore… Fantasies Failures The unknown Free to discover… What drives me What guides me Free to become… Whom ever And what ever My creative and imaginative objectivity Can conjure up I’m free to soar above the Mediocrity of the same And mirror the true Sentiment of the inside of me Unbalanced Unstable But natural Yet so humane A complex simplicity In the rarest form

What are these tears? Where is my laughter? From what place has this pain arisen? This trivial throbbing, gnawing, infuriating impair in my head. It dances in and overwhelms me. Pinching off bit by bit My since of reason, normalcy, and sanity. They have real pain. They know real anguish. They create new definitions to the word devastation. But they keep going out of obligation and pride. But I, I, tremble … Breaking at the mere initiation or occurrence of sadness. Holding my tears under the eye lids And imprisoning the screams in my throat. A release would offer an insult to the bearers of valid sadness. A suitable response for my hurt would be a simple shaking of the head, But my burdensome response is fear and helplessness. I feel the need to apologize to those who’ve endured deeper cuts. Therefore I will smile and convince myself with hollow reassurances Empty promises and void wisdom… To say…I’m okay.

It goes from simmer to boil in a matter of minutes It ravages any prospect of being rational It spins all sanity and coherency into a torturous gale It hurts Both physical and emotional The mental anguish is unbearable Aiming to let it subside Trying to make it go away Wondering why its here Where it came from And how to disappear in a hurry Clenched fists don't lend a hand Tears make it worse Oh God please send a remedy This is not the me I choose This is the me I wish to destroy         2011 ®