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Poetry

	Patricia Etienne
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Patricia Etienne, 26 december 2011

Gone With Her

Then:

          They bullied me,

Made me feel much smaller than what I really was,

Not knowing How to deal with pain I kept inside.

Woe is me

As I cried in grief

Staring at myself

Laying still

As I wish the minutes would be

But twos not

After:

          They made me feel low.

          Called me ugly

          And stepped on every ounce of confidence I had stored.

          Like thieving pirates searching for my sacred treasure,

          They found my self-esteem and took from me.

          The priest said a prayer and placed me to rest.

          My friends and family all shed their tears.

Now:

          I did it! I dealt with her.

Her blood falls on my hands,

But a problem she is to me no more.

They teased and bothered both her and me so much

That I came to a point where I killed myself

I have committed suicide.

The greatest act I have ever done.

I killed her low self-esteem,

Her below zero confidence

And her tradition of crying

But I live,

Proud of myself

And of who I am.

No longer obliged

To the comments they make of me

Or the opinions they have.

For I have committed suicide to her.

Note From author:

This piece of writing is dedicated to all of those who have survived
bullies, who have been teased, who have accepted themselves for
who they are, and learned to get rid of their low self esteem.

So Please keep on fighting!

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 1 | rating: 9 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 26 december 2011

Am I a Conniver?

For so I am a woman

All fingers are pointing at me

All eyes are fixating on me

All verdicts are going against me

For what reason ever be

Who has the right?

Who has the right to think that way?

My question is yet to answer

~~``~~

For so I am a woman

It's like a stigma

I am viewed like a rotten apple

A libertine, thinking by many

For what so ever reason

Who has the right?

Who has the right to feel that way?

My question is yet to answer.

~~``~~

Indeed I am a woman

I am perturbed,

Prosecuted,

laughed at,

Damaged,

Minimized,

Pushed aside,

I long carry the world's burdens on my back.

~~``~~

For all I know

I am a woman

From Eve

Pass down the curse

Begins far, so far back

In the ancient epoch

Time of B.C.

When the pleasing to the eyes fruit got bitten

Then sins take nascence

I come to be the conniver

~~``~~

Alright I am a woman

Through childbirth

I hollow

I agonize

I encounter,

Pain beyond the word imagination

I pay my penance

Am I still a conniver?

~~``~~

He the superior of all lawyers

He makes all the laws

And he who has the right

To give all the rights;

Has already given me,

My rights

I am a woman

I am at my own free will.

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 5 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 28 december 2011

Time

We don't have time'
Time has us

Though I wish
Like
anyone else
To grab a hold of time
Just to mingle and dwell

Yet
the day passes so fast
That it's already tomorrow,
Still we beg and
plead for
Time to borrow

Still surprise on how the sun has gone'

Our shocked and amaze will never be done

Time is a comedian, first
fast then slow
Because on boring days the day will never go

So spend
time wisely if you must,
We don't have time'
Time has us

number of comments: 0 | rating: 5 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 13 february 2012

The Bogeymen In The Black boots

On this foul terrain

Even the very light blowing wind

Bring the strongest man off balance

Go figure the heavy black boots predators

who spread torture by buckets.

They blow fire with burning pressure

and oppression with no measure;

attempting to meltdown those who are reluctant of their wrongdoings.

Like the no kindest, no heart Apocalypses' laws

Intimidation is ruled to win souls

Rejeanne's father underwent the knife of oppression

The tried to drain off his activist blood

Poor Rejeanne, she witnessed the entire reckless operation,

and when her father’s last breath went flatlining like a candle light.

Her mother escaped through the back wooden window

With little Rejeanne carried on her shoulder

Hours later she fled the country,

and left Rejeanne behind with her Grand-Mama.

Poor child has carried the cross of her time.

She felt short-changed to have lost her father,

and sort of abandoned by her mother.

She shed tears of broken memories;

especially, on father's day same for Mother's day.

Although, her Grand-Mama really tried to act as her parents,

but at times that didn't cut the drill.

She really needed someone to call Mom and Dad and she needed parenting love.

For Rejeanne, being a toddler and life without parents was very upheaval.

The many distressing dreams she always encountered,

Related to the traumatic event she has suffered.

Her nightmares content – the bogeymen in the black boots;

who were trying to break the door open.

Horrific dreams, that she often awoken with her heart pounding from fear.

Through many years Rejeanne spent each day of her life like a massive morn.

She grew into an anxious adult

Nonetheless compassionate...

Still with the long lasting emotional effects of traumatic experienced

© 2012 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 4 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 21 april 2012

~So disturb! ~

It’s 6: 35 in the morning
I wake up sweat and breathless
Thoughts pounding my head
The ramblings of my brain
Wanting to come out live through ink
I slip my hand to look for you
Then, instead my hand touches
The folded sheet on the pillow
Damned you!
Damned you!
I slip my hands between my thighs
The early sun set hit my eyes
Through the thin curtain window
Allow my eyes to close
The memory of the beautiful night
Shivers my body, then I get angry
Hear my heart cry
God of misericord
Why must it always have to be this way?
Like a hit and run situation
Like a Doctor’s visit
You come and treat my pain
And then hit the road
Never once have the chance
To wake up cuddle in your arms.
To cry our joys of the night passé
To gaze into each other’s eyes
Share a good morning kiss
Or drink a morning coffee together
Never mind!
O’ ma tête me fait mal
C'est comme une piqûre d`aiguille
ça me fait si mal, si mal
Dans ma tête...
I try to think of something else
Still my thoughts want to
Transcribe on paper and
Here is my endless story (…)
Patricia Etienne

number of comments: 0 | rating: 4 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 21 february 2012

`~`the Forbidden Flea`~`

It hurts to feel

When you have a dream

A very funny dream

That is bigger than your thoughts

Than what you can take on

When illusion rises

You feel to take the world by storms

Then limitation stands in your way.

If only she could, she would

She would find a way to defy

What is appeared to be

The scourge of our time

The irrational thing

The forbidden flea

That literally sucks life

And supplies darkness in return

If only she could, she would

She would destroy by rage

This funny pioneer wants to be

The gloom and doom insect

With the ultimate intention

To destroy man kind

With no exception

Nonetheless, she is so very heartbroken

When realize this demon is at its will power

Nobody has yet to come close to its match

In fact she finds it to be so very difficult

To even finding words of motivation

To alleviate its victims' souls

Knowing half of the time

It's just...

But when she looks on the bright side

She takes a very deep breath

Hopeful breath!

Knowing, that we are human, the biggest species among all!

The celestial gift given to us

We will not be defeated by cancer

The dubious insect

The supreme victory is to us!

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 3 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 22 january 2013

Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”

Oh great wisdom Sage of wondrous time

Shine up your great eyes on the women of India as they have been under difficulties

Their land has no place to free and their voice has no strength to cry for mercy

Each day is a struggle like a challenge for a limb to climb up mountains

For you Great Sage, stood against the great Sanhedrin's practices

Your revolutionary actions, had delivered the ultimate chance, and fair choices

That brought by far, women's and children's rights.

Like Mary-Magdalena became sin-free

The Samaritan woman spread the gospel of salvation

The crippled woman who first took steps inside the synagogue

for you broke down the hall of patriarch superiority

your affirmation on behalf of women, had brought The Pharisees to humiliation and shamed

Oh Great Master-avatar!

Why in India a woman is raped every twenty minutes?

Why such adversities on those women ?

Why tears take the place of their glowing eyes?

why sadness takes constant notes in their hearts?

Why such malevolent at large?

If follow your theory by turning the other cheek to the aggressor.

It won't be much hope and

MeditaTION wouldn't be the answer either

For those Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”

You sacrificed to create peace and gender equality.

Let the bell tolls and said “Beware, Brute-Men leave the site of those women for they are sacred and loved!”

Let those unleashed rapist be refrained to normal type of behavior

For legacy of justice reigns, and the fallen souls shall depart in peace.
© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne
All rights reserved

number of comments: 3 | rating: 3 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 30 december 2011

~This Calf love~

*********

Shall we not

Go on through everyday

Bickering

Yapping

For reasons

I've cometh to believe

That are untitled

*********

For I'm ceased

Not to conflict I rest

Dickering

Brightening

Best way

To lay the cards

Full house of aces.

*********

Where I stand

In the flamingo flock

Fluttering

Tingling

My heart

Whisper but love

Please read between the lines.

*********

Why portray

Like a beast with no heart?

Puncturing

Frightening

A pity soul

Who looking for nothing but

A fragment of your attention.

*********

Why portray

The devil like you are?

Crumbling

Sinking

One's heart

Upon my pain

I wish but to rid of

This crazy love.

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 3 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 26 december 2011

When Depression Climbs up the Wall

~~1~~

Down and under

Below black skies

Heavy clouds follow

As though with legs

Clomping the air road

Striving to escape as always try

But…

Down and under

Rain water burns

~~2~~

Down and under

Where light is gloomed

Each step forward

Is found to go backward

Exhale a heavy cry

Who's there to hear

Only…

the voice echoing

The woods to sink down deeper

~~3~~

Down and under

Shoulders shrug down

Sleepy eyes unable to open

Within the four walls

Darkness is glorified

Light becomes the intimate enemy

Only…

Sweet taste commands the stomach walls

Marriage is made with the fluffy blanket

~~4~~

Down and under

Does not rhyme with shine

Snow cascade from skies to heart

Unable to reason or to smile

Tearful eyes relieve pain

Feelings of worthless invade soul

Now…

Suicidal thoughts take over Grim's weapon

Deep feet under makes the last move

Note from Author:

Depression is a serious disease. Allow yourself to see the symptoms and be proactive

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 3 | detail

Patricia Etienne, 5 january 2012

~ No Cure~

They clap and clap till their hands grow tired

Sing with high tone till their voices worn out

For leaders of untruth words

They cast their votes with the wish that change will be

Once tasted the cushion chaise

The rhythm of the drum alter to a cymbal tone

The dance steps are followed together as one

By far all promises climb up the tree

Poor souls of this Island

Have been waiting for a perpetual new ray of sun light

All leaders voted as a motive for their voices

Turn out to betray and shatter their hearts

Cruel, hatred of unknown kindness

Trample on the conscience of devoted electors

Deliver false illusion

To a nation that is moaning for hope

To all are rip-off their fair rights

The wrong and the bad are at large

What fair can be drawn out of madness?

No cure for this island soul.

© 2011 by _Patricia Etienne

All rights reserved

number of comments: 0 | rating: 3 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

Poetry

Gone With Her

Am I a Conniver?

Time

The Bogeymen In The Black boots

~So disturb! ~

`~`the Forbidden Flea`~`

Indian women cry “Great St. Essa”

~This Calf love~

When Depression Climbs up the Wall

~ No Cure~

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