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Spirit Filled Warrior
by
Joyce Caldwell
1985
Within my soul it rains,
for there is nothing there but pain.
Touch my flesh I burn,
feel my lust I yearn,
go St Lucifer before I learn!
Be gone Satan,
let me be quiet and patient.
Let me go of this obsession,
for I want to be in possession.
"What is happening to me!" Every day I yell,
I wish "it" would just burned in hell.
People are attacking me,
and my purpose is in reverie.
I draw back in mistrust,
no one treats me as they must.
Wildly I pressed my face against the glass,
when will they have let me out at last!
Please bring me into reality,
without all the anxiety.
Terror strikes me every morn,
my head spins, and I feel fore lorn.
Stars and sparks splash through my murky head,
I beg stop this interruption before I am dead!
How many more days do I have to try?
I would just rather give up and die.
My insides are turned inside-out,
please dear God let me out!
My hands are shaking,
my heart is breaking,
utterances disintegrate from my mouth,
I cannot communicate inside, or out.
Words are spoken, and fall upon my deaf ears,
for expressions are distorted, and push me into tears.
I am so confused,
I wanted my own family, and not to be abused,
but it was me they did use.
How could I have done this,
did I choose?
Medication just do your work,
before I go berserk.
My feelings have been up and down,
and shot all around.
Fragmented emotions struck my brain,
where whence it was they came!?!
Spirits, please, please come out,
we know your in there running about.
Just give me your hand,
so you can be lead out into this land.
Bring us together, not apart,
for without me, my existence will bare no mark.
Spirited warrior, come out, and be at bay,
for I need you to exist each and every day.
If you decide to resist,
I promise to let go and desist.
I cannot live like this.
2/2000
The Warrior is Out!
Storming
by
Joyce Caldwell
"The emotions are as strong
as waves of an ocean,
so please don't put them into motion" She said,
"If you stir them up, and cause a commotion,
I will get the notion
to scream and say, go away,
because I cannot be your slave!"
Still he taunted her that for
him she would behave.
For him he needed her in his own way.
To make and mold her into what he
believed "he" had made.
Little did he know that she was her own vision,
not to his liking or to his own twisted superstition.
She could have a mind,
that was not so kind,
and his constant direction,
to only be in his correction,
lead her only into her own twisted dereliction.
Insanity was for her a genetic,
so she fought it like it was prophetic,
because her life was already determined to
not be so copacetic.
However, his taunting only brought on
a wanting,
to stop the constant be-wanting.
Therefore, the stress had it's own way,
and told her not to let the insanity go astray,
and that, that for now, it would be "OK".
So in her misery that night,
she pulled a knife,
and held it above his head at great height
screaming, "I cannot be your wife!
You cause me way too much strife!
For if you try to make me be you alike,
I will become hateful, and a psyche,
and your death will be my plight!
So, stay out of my sight!"
J. A. Caldwell
Father: I am Dancing the Dance of Anger
by
Joyce Caldwell
Father: I throw a right thump with my frail hand, and the enemy steps back. I
throw a left clout with the other feble hand, and the enemy retreats again.
Then with a sneer on his face rising like a dragon, he then strikes once more,
and blasts me with his bellows, standing high above me, mocking my plight to be
heard, as he watches me quiver.
I then decline bowing my head with respect towards his previous attack, and
mighty power. In contemplation, I appear to relinquish my weapon to his
authority, surrendering my stance, making him think that I will obey whatever
he demands.
The enemy, now shocked and dismayed to my response, in a quandary and
meditating on his next answer, he watches as I pray for the strength of my
father, and for the mighty sword of David to make my final blow, to bring the
enemy to his death, and in the end, I see the final recognition of eye, that I
had been heard, as he lay in death, wilting a beam upon his lips.
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