(~Just something extremely close to home..and happened very recently (recently being in the past couple of hours..) it kinda popped into my head. So, here ya go anyway..~)

Nightmare

Fear
It rises like a lump in my throat
Choking me
Stopping me from breathing

I sit and wait
For a signal
Just a small sign
That he's ok
That his condition isn't critical

I'm crying
Tears pouring down my face
But I barely notice
My whole body tense
Tense and waiting
Waiting for the smallest sign.

I'm shaking
Shaking so badly
So badly I can barely see straight
So badly I can barely concentrate

I'm staring at the screen
Waiting for the words to flash
Any words
To tell me he's ok
That he's at least conscious.

He hit him.

My body collapses
All the fight gone
All the hope
The hope that this time
This time things will be different
All...gone.

I just pray.
Pray that this will end soon
That he and I can live our lives
Live our lives free from terror
Free from fear.

So we don't live our lives waiting.
Waiting for the next time he's drunk
Just...waiting.

So we can escape the nightmare.
Escape the nightmare he's controlling
That he's making us live.
He won't let us free
Keeps playing us
Like a puppeteer plays his puppets.
Controlling us by jerking strings
Pushing buttons.

Why can't he just let us free?
Leave us alone?
Let us live our life in peace
Without fear, without pain.

I can dream...
Dream that this will happen
But it's in vain for now
He still controls us
And he always will
Until he gets tired of us
Or our strings break
Like the string breaks on a puppet
A puppet that's too old to carry on
Too tired to keep performing

I just want an end
An end to the pain
An end to the nightmare.
To our nightmare.


© copyright July 2002 Lili Breschinsky

I've had dreams like this before !
The ones that when you wake ...you wake in a cold sweat.
SO I can relate to this piece.
Good job my friend !
Bill

wow.... that... wow...

This I really liked! In the poem, I see a "living nightmare", an inescapable situation with a controlling, possibly alcoholic, individual. My wife shares with me similar stories about her childhood. We both can relate, provided I have interpreted correctly. If not, don't tell me differently...I liked what I got from the poem.


Bubba

Thanks for the comments, you guys. Personally, I think this poem is one of the best I've done when it comes to emotions and stuff. It's definitely the most closely linked to me. I mean, all my poems are..but this, and "Picture", are the closest of all.

this is REALLY good hun, could actually getting a feeling through.. and yeah, felt Scary.. :)



those two i'd say are the mose affective

I can relate all to well:

sleep becomes an enemy
for I have to fight the dream
the devils down within me
awake in a dybbuk's scream

I am fearful for my soul
the devils may steal at night
slowly destroying my heart
making hell my eternal plight

Bubba B.

Eep! That was . . . GREAT! I felt like I was right there in your dream. Loved the poem.

Honest and heart felt. Well written. I could offer sugestions to make it more my style of poem, or appeal more to me in certain areas, but I think it works well enough the way it is. I like the puppet image and the specifics of the alchohol. I personally hate vagueness, and I think you do a great job in this.

When I read it though, it seemed more like a song, and the more I read it, the more I think it would be great for an alternative song style. It has the whole story telling scene, but it's not a lot whining or anything like that. Just a thought.

Great job. I still like Picture better, in my personal opinion. However, it is your choice on the poem that goes in the book.

Damnit. I swear I thought I already responded to this one. I know I've read it. *sigh* Oh well.

The emotion is very apparent in this piece, although I would leave out the lines where you tell us what you are doing, such as "I am crying", or "I am shaking". Instead of telling us that you're shaking point blank, maybe simply describe it and how it feels to you. That way it's not quite so blunt and a little more poetic.

At first, I didn't really understand what was going on, but more towards the end, it became extremely clear. It scares me how much I can relate to this. I wish no one had to face such a thing. You did a knock-out job descriving your feelings though. Definately good job with that.

Other than telling a little more than showing, I have no issues with this piece. It was well written and very powerful. I liked it overall.

(~Not sure...I've taken the "I am crying, I am shaking", lines out, because as I reread it, I had to agree with Savy in that they are quite blunt, when they don't really need to be. Anywayz, tell me what you think, whether this is better, or the original is better. Or any other things you think would make it better. And also, whether you think this poem, or "Picture" is better, so I can decide which to put in the book. I'm unsure, so opinion's would be appreciated. Thanks~)

Theme: Dark
Name: Lili Breschinsky
Date: © July 31st 2002

Nightmare

Fear.
It rises like a lump in my throat.
Choking me,
Stopping me from breathing.

I sit and wait
For a signal.
Just a small sign
That he's ok.
That his condition isn't critical.

Tears pouring down my face,
But I barely notice.
My whole body tense,
Tense and waiting.
Waiting for the smallest sign.

Shaking so badly,
So badly I can barely see straight,
So badly I can barely concentrate.

Staring at the screen,
Waiting for some words to flash.
Any words.
To tell me he's ok,
That he's at least conscious.

He hit him.

My body collapses,
All the fight gone.
All the hope.
The hope that this time,
This time things will be different.
All...gone.

I just pray.
Pray that this will end soon,
That he and I can live our lives.
Live our lives free from terror,
Free from fear.

So we don't live our lives waiting.
Waiting for the next time he's drunk.
Just...waiting.

So we can escape the nightmare.
Escape the nightmare he's controlling.
That he's making us live.
He won't let us free,
Keeps playing us,
Like a puppeteer plays his puppets.
Controlling us by jerking strings,
Pushing buttons.

Why can't he just let us free?
Leave us alone?
Let us live our life in peace,
Without fear, without pain.

I can dream...
Dream that this will happen.
But it's in vain for now.
He still controls us,
And he always will,
Until he gets tired of us,
Or our strings break,
Like the string breaks on a puppet,
A puppet that's too old to carry on,
Too tired to keep performing.

I just want an end.
An end to the pain,
An end to the nightmare.

To our nightmare.


© Copyright July 2002 Lili Breschinsky

i personally like them both but the revision is definatly more poetic.
Great job n keep writin i wish too read more soon.

LUVed iT

Well, this is my second poem for the book lol, which I've decided with Amers help (thanks babes! hehe :) ). I want the rewrite in please lol..not the original :D hehe.