Poems about The Voice for Others

Duplex III: Be Quiet

Be quiet; the voice doesn’t belong here,
Only the body turned into piñata.

Your body made into a piñata.
Boys swing their sticks, breaking things not theirs.

Boys hit you with their sticks, breaking things not theirs.
Innocence falls, swallowed up by night.

Fallen innocence, swallowed by night.
Candy wrappers are clothes, no room for names.

Candy wrappers for clothes. Who cares about names?
Boys gnaw on silent sugary screams.

Boys’ teeth dig into sugary screams.
Confectionery prey, looking for sound.

Confectionery, pray, can’t find sound,
Only the body turned into piñata.

Copyright ©️ 2024

Please don't turn out the light, don't let the darkness fall,
For then I'll hear his footsteps treading down the hall.
Please don't turn out the light, I want to wait awhile,
For he is oh so big and strong
And I am just a child.
Please don't turn out the light,I'm not ready for the pain,
I think I hear his footsteps
Yes, here he comes again.
Please don't turn out the light, just wait and let me sleep
Amongst the stars where I'll ask God "I pray my soul to keep."

A constant dark cloud looms over my head.

Everyone tells me to forgive and forget. How do I do that when my childhood and innocence were stolen from me? I become an adult before I was able to be a child.

I cry but no tears.
I am in pain though no ones notices.

Alone all the time in my mind.

Once the abuse happened, the secret followed me like a dark shadow.

I go through the motions of life. What an unhappy and angry existence like being trapped down among the dead men in that dark deep hole.

Arises a twinkle of light.
Come down light in the night.
What’s it like in the light?

When all I do is walk in the rain.
Cold and lonely.
Wasted days.
Wasted years.
It really feels like hell.

Done my time in hell!
Done my time feeling out of place.
The walls are coming down.
My awakening beckons to me.
With help, my journey from the darkness begins.
It won’t be easy, but better than it was.

Robert McDonald, Uxbridge Canada

The Strength & Power of Whispers

You are no longer alone
My brave soul
Breathe

With a nod
I acknowledge your courage
Your expressive truth
Your knowing

For the experiential quilt of words your authenticity brings
I am grateful

"Beyond your breath your whisper is knowing, brave and courageous. You opened up your soul, authenticity and the truth. You showed your strength and beauty and you are no longer alone."
(Author- Stefan (group facilitator at The Gatehouse)

Exploitation is a smoking gun,
Stealing choices from our young.
It shoots at futures, leaving them dead.
Like bullets, grooming rattles through heads.

Exploitation is a blade thrusting deep,
Murdering families as grief steals sleep.
It uses tactics like pressure and threats,
Pushing gifts & drugs to create “work debts”.

Exploitation is a social media disease,
Using platforms to “recruit” with ease.
It fakes aspects of life to trick and coerce,
Making alternatives seem weak or worse.

Exploitation is lurking by shops and schools,
Dangling temptation to follow new “rules”.
It offers to help with what kids might want,
Sucking them in with status or front.

Exploitation is at first a friendly disguise,
As kids look in with innocent eyes.
It picks at any child’s perceived weakness,
Offering fake futures away from life’s “bleakness”.

Exploitation is a destroyer of homes,
Forcing kids “Out There” to “Carry” and roam.
It plugs inside children – just like drug wraps,
Abandoned to fend-off rival attacks.

Exploitation is bribery then assault,
Hurting and beating to get a “result”.
It brands and degrades to destroy any bravery,
Entrenching children in modern slavery.

HEALING
The hero’s journey
Exhausted
Recovering from the
Broken Pieces

Stretched
Thin

Tears of liberation
Healing
is
the path
Towards
the free self

Riding moon beams
Waves crashing
I exhale

The underworld
Pain of change
Loss

I am
Reborn

Collective Poem Process on Healing
Arthur Lockhart
Founder Emeritus
The Gatehouse

One soul is living
One soul is survivng
We smile together
One of us is crying

They hold our hand
One of us follows
They broke the trust
One of us feels hallow

We trust the lies
One of us hides the truth
We stand together
One stands alone, zero proof

We seek justice
They see a fight
We see them
They seek our light

One soul is living
One soul is surviving
We smile together
One of us is crying

You took my hand
Led me to your imprisoned bed
Me, giving up my safety, laden
In heaviness, I present my oneness
Which was hidden, guarded
You stroke my face, that ugliness, uncaring piece
A spoonful of unique crimson
My eyes shrouded by silk
The painful release of waters, built up
The key under your tongue, spit
I am cuffed, numb
My legs opened
Your lids flutter, a release
The metal cuts me, inside sickened
I feel weight, disconnected
No kiss, disrespecting body
My breathing, expanse
Cotton in my mouth
A broken wheel in awe
The mothered unwanted son held on
To a crippled sky