Tuesday, May 1, 2018




we cannot express the needs
we are not aware we have
coming from parts we barely know of
using only 10% of our brain
the other 90% locked up
in dark folds and crevasses.

take a trip into that darkness
holding an imaginary flash light
through the tunnels
the cobwebs of the past
for maybe this is where the how's, what's, and why's, hide
this might be the reason some people drop their lives,
and wander, "Alone"...
to walk a thousand miles around a lake
or take a rowboat across the pacific,
or climb Mount Everest...
to find "It"!

walking the answers, climbing the questions,
rowing the deep oceans under all wind, and storms,
crushing waves, and excruciating aches of every muscle in your body,
keep on...

finding nothing and everything in the journey
they had found in the crevasses
their "lost self"
diving deep into the untapped,
not settling into a comfortable conformity.
never again to so.

never end the search
until you are found!
(c) B. Suen


You better call your mama
because you haven't
and you can never call your daddy
because, he died three years ago
in August
and you wanted to talk to him
when you woke up out of your dreams
thinkin' too was it sunrise or sunset?
then it hit you
for some reason
that you would never again see
your daddy
hug him
hear his laugh
no where on this planet
and you know damned right
you're still breaking a commandment
"honor thy father and mother"
you don't call her...
because she once said,
"I don't want to be your mother anymore"....

Hearing those words were a sharp knife
that speared my heart all the way through
to the other side.  clear through, bone, muscle, soul...
and the scream on my insides were deafening.
(c) barbaraSuen


I have searched far and wide
for the place where the grass always grows greener.
I find it all over the place.
Just not here.
Here I do find,
different shades of green,
and sometimes...
not even green at all
sometimes it's even brown
with little dandelions,
poking up their heads
as if to say,
"I can grow anywhere,
and my hunter green dress is the envy
of my friends. She then lifted her yellow hair high
as the winds blew her bold green leaves to and fro."

"Come on, kneel down to the earth, and take a closer look at me.
Most do not call me flower,
yet my petals burst brighter than the sun,
even if everything around here is brown,
desolate and dry as dust..I grow..
I am in this place called "somewhere"
My friends call me, "Sunny"
I call myself "Flower."

"I like the green grass too,
but they put a  poison in it...
killing off the rest of us.  All for the sake of endless and uninterupted blades of jade
needing to create a tiny slice of paradise
behind their high fences,
mostly highways, malls and parking lots.  All the ugly grays
they became used to.
I've heard they called this progress.
I think they know differently
too late."

"Who named us "Weeds"?
I'd like to talk to him, give him some words of my own.
Ugly name he gave us, just telling us we don't belong
here, or there.
We, who are survivors,
Grow on.
In a place called "Somewhere"
Like tiny, bright suns, shining everywhere we can.

I grow wherever I want to.
Despite what you see in me.


BARBARA SUEN is a 53 year old, from Mishawaka, Indiana. USA.   She enjoys writing prose poetry.  Her work has appeared in several regional, and international Anthologies that includes "Potpourrhi Anthology Vol. 1."   "I Have A Name", "Verses On Racism, Resistance And Refugee Crisis",  "Women Poets:  Within And Beyond Shores Vol. 2", Tried, Tested And True Poets From Across The Globe",  "Dandelion In A Vase Of Roses",  "Apple Fruits From An Old Oak", and  "Where Are You From?" Also, her work will be published in May/June Edition of "Indiana Voice Journal", and "Raven Cage". She enjoys meeting Poets from all over the world.  Her goal is to have her own collection of Poems in a book with her own name on the front !  Her wish is that her voice will help just one person.   Or many !

No comments :

Post a Comment