Poetry

The Current Tide

Tired
Morose
Flat
This feels like
An aftermath
Of the rubble
From a space shuttle
I was never meant
To depart from.

Thinking of home
I am a Universal vagabond
With my heart strapped on;
Ripped so many times
There is no more lining
For stitches,
So I wrap it in twine
Tie a knot inside my chest
A place to tether
The sadness.

Stop trying to fix
The broken hearted
With your big words.

Until you’ve worn the shoes
Of a human’s abuse
Speech is mere verbs,
Letters leaving lips
Which can never really
Know what it’s like
To feel all of this.

In the meantime I
Rewind the knobs
Tune the strings
So I can
Sing my way through
All the things I
Never tell you and
Why I like to be alone,
A solitary soul
Singing lullabies
To the invisible sky.

V.K

Un-Acknowledged

What does it feel like
To be a ghost shunned;
A soul un-grieved,
Un-missed and unforgiven?

In the hovering bowels
Of mysticism where the
Cynics hang their hats,
She waits to be
Acknowledged.

In these times there
Is a satisfaction in this
Inter-dimensional reaction;
When spirit feels the wishing
Just like we did
When we were little
And hurting.

“You are undeserving.”

I see her there
Weeping. She is
Repeating all of the
Mistakes that
Make her ache, but

You see, it’s
Not up up to me to
Provide relief.

There are grave
Consequences for
Actions, and sometimes
They get passed on
To the next
Generation.

Mistakes can’t be erased.
Absolution is a
Figment of your
Imagination, so I say
Proceed on with caution.

Meanwhile, she
Hangs from the eave,
Hovering,
Hoping to be
Seen by me, and I
Wince inwardly.

I remind myself that
She is the reason
I have moments of freezing
Dead in my skin and
How hard I have
Had to fight to win,
So no, without emotion, I
Leave her restless
In eternal hoping.

©venniekocsis.com

Falling Silent

The shame of cult life
Never leaves you.

It follows like shadows
Reflecting moments you
Aren’t sure if you;

Said something right,
Did something right,
Knew about a thing,
A song, a phrase or
A time period.

You are constantly
Encountering moments
Being sunk into an abyss
Of dark absence.

Will I ever not
Fall silent, when friends
Echo the shows from
A childhood I
Never laid eyes on?

Will I ever cease
Pulling up a memory,
Sharing, hoping and
Searching for comrades
In a place that is
So foreign to me?

The lack eats at you
Constantly fact checking
Your own self,
Sighing relief when you
Find out that you’re
More in the know
Than you think,

And the outsiders
Look in curiously
Making assumptions;
Judgements so, see

Every time it
Happens to me,
I back up a little more
Into my corner
Where aloneness
Is the safe zone.

Away from the
Misunderstandings, the
Shifting impossibilities,
I remain solitary
Where I understand me,
And we have each other
On the inside
Where no one has to hide.

©venniekocsis.com

Stream of Consciousness | 8.8

Everyone / wants the truth / until it’s / pointed at you / until the / face has to / reverse / to moments of / receiving and causing / hurt / to beliefs in / deities and / the inability to / think freely / then the / quiet comes / bitter silence / don’t wanna rewind it / can’t be reminded / can’t accept / ancestry / DNA altering / refuse to / allow embrace / of race / cause / skin tone / doesn’t coincide / go inside / figure out / why / the seeking / the aching / the taking / the breaking / the lashing out / the separating / the lack / of loyalty / dedication / restoration / reverberations / illumination / why the / stacked egos / care about / those opinions / from minions / we don’t / know all / listen / to the calls / spirit is / speaking / are you / weakening / weaning / releasing / being / full circle / behavioral / accountability / resilience / healing / revealing with / no shame / no blame / reclaim / stand still / into silence / amniotic fluid / plasma / colors of / arrays that / warm the face / the mirror / is waiting / as you / are debating / shed skin / go within

The Song Of a Universe

My heart strings feel
So full of love
These days I
Could let my eyes
Seep the delight

Humanoids call them
Tears of joy

I have morphed into
Triangulated dimensions
New friendships
Beautiful intention
We are here rising
Waiting over, loves, this
Is Ascension

Light gathers like
Water and seashore
Building more
And more
Moving sand
And stone
We build homes from
Ashes and disaster

We are warrior and depth
Adept at flying, hiding,
Smiling and telepathically
Speaking we are
New to you

What to do
What to do

What you knew as one
Has become many
The life of being in
Multiple realities

Welcome to the
Upward slant there’s
No going back
So don’t fight
Float and
Don’t grieve
You hope and
Become the storm
That blows away the
Battered form

For you are
Seven colors of sky
Curved through clouds
You are music and
Violins, soft chords
Voices in harmony
You are the song
Of a Universe

K

The Gathering

(written in 2009)

We are the quiet, the hidden
The purposely unnoticed,
The only speak of it to each other
Write it, paint it, sing it…
But not to the masses.

They are unfocused, organized
Religious zealots, diabolical replicas,
Rendered children of Zion,
Angered by the unknown, the
Misunderstood reasons for not
Being willing to understand
Or accept what is inevitable

So they

Wish to kill us, do you?
Wish to rip our hearts from our
Chest, hold them in your hands
As if you have triumphed over our
Spirits, brought yourself redemption
By judging (not) lest ye be judged,
Oh yes, I can quote your scripture,
Talk about your rapture, how you
Crucified your so called Christ;
Made your God weep; all so you
Could keep some kind of purity.

We will gather, make no mistake,
You with your held out crosses,
Your thumping black books spewing
Scriptures that choke out truth,
But we are patient, compassionate
To our fellow man, mistaken for weak
Until our rage breaks and seeps.

We are the Mystics, the witch’s brew,
The keeper of your thoughts, holders of
The knowing. We are the Old World tenderly
Tossed with the New, a salad of
Scrolls garnished with wisdom
And dressed with apparitions
That you call ghosts. We are here
To awaken your spirit should you
Choose to allow your ears to hear it.

There is a fire sparking, somewhere in
The mountains. I see them dancing,
Eyes wild with energy, hands raised,
Feet in rhythm with their own time,
And I smile at the divinity
As they find absolution
In the composition of the wind.

V/K
©venniekocsis.com

For the Motherless Child

But who celebrates the
Motherless child?
Who remembers the
Grieving sibling
Whose life was missing
Love and comfort
Or the children
Riddled with the loss
Of she who bore them?

Who loves the
Worn down souls
Unable to open
Computer tops
For fear of seeing
Everyone else’s joy
As they
Sit alone.

We are conditioned with
Holidays to
Get the heart wishing,
Fake gatherings where
Children smile for mom
Quiet about the harm
Not showing the scars
Locked in robotic charm,
The alcohol bottle,
The silence, as not to
Make the cages rattle.

Every day is Mother’s Day,
For the motherless, a
Reminder shoved in their face
With flowers torn from stems,
No fond stories to tell
About childhood memories,
Just thoughts of her hell,

Or wishing she was here
To share in the recall
Of the kids who had it all,
But lost her slowly
Until all that’s left
Is a headstone
And lonely.

And so I lift my eyes
To the motherless child;
Open my arms
Let me hold you a while.
Together, see, I understand.
I know the pain.

We will walk in the trees and
I’ll softly wipe any tears;
Hold you to my chest to
Let you seep out the loneliness.

You don’t have to be happy
If it’s not how you feel.
You have the right
To be vulnerable and real.

To you, motherless child, I
I sent respite. So
Rest a while and
If you find strength to smile
I will return it with twinkling eyes.

V.K

art by Vennie Kocsis with influence from Jill Greenberg’s crying children series.