Poems of Nancy Faulkner

Poems of :

"The Web of Secrecy"

Strangled and ensnared in this horrid web of shadowed secrecy,
it sometimes seems I cannot find the strength to stay alive.
As I spin to free myself, the complicated mesh winds tighter
round my isolated efforts to untangle and survive.

Fitfully, I bump the slight remains of another frightened child
whose mute cocoon is motionless, and fragile spirit broken;
I struggle to escape the same doomed silent plight
that descends from all the evil secrets hiding quiet and unspoken.

Why is it others do not see the convoluted clinging web
when they chance upon my failing frail existence?
Why don't they see the mask I wear to guise the pain inside,
or feel the desperation spun from harm's continual persistence?

As sunlight hits the window just beyond the wicked web,
my reflection emanates, fractured through the shattered light;
A distorted splintered image emerging from the fleeting rays
casts shadows on my soul and drives the secret deeper in the night.

Ashamed, I turn my eyes away; am I afraid that I might see myself
and feel again that I have caused this ceaseless wicked scene?
If they knew about the unseen secrets lurking in the dark,
would they see me as the one who instigates, the one who is obscene?

Should I not be blameless, as the butterfly enticed into a lacy veil,
whose flawless colors nevermore will waltz and play so peacefully?
Unwitting and naive, could the carefree innocent have known
that a cunning predator had cast the evil web deceitfully?

Can you lift your eyes and be not blinded by the captivating filigree?
Do you hear my muffled plea for rescue from this spinning snare of secrecy?

Will you eradicate the clever dark tarantula who subjugates my life,
and, extend your hand to save me from this unjust, vile indecency?

"Silent Agony"

Does the truth stay hidden,
waiting for another day
to reveal the fight as remedied --
Or, until it comes more easily,
or happens by itself,
without the struggle to succeed?

If these things are so, then truth is passive,
and will not fight
or struggle when it's all uphill --
Or try to overcome the pain
of those who live in silent agony,
because our honesty stood still.

If we are doomed to live in quiet resignation,
without free will
or bold determination --
Then we relinquish our humanity,
while we carelessly engage
in our own annihilation.

"I'll Rise Again (Enlightenment)"

And here I stand again...
atop a precipice;
the climb was long and hard,
I expected freedom and exhilaration.
Below me now...
I reflect upon the path I made,
through rocks and weeds and thorns,
to reach this shocking elevation.

Beyond... as far as I can see...
are endless peaks and valleys,
without a bridge to take me
to the next unconquered crest;
Behind... the course is worn and clear...
and I feel the torment
of the struggle up the palisades,
alive and pounding in my breast.

This mountain top seems barren...
where are all the flower fields,
the butterflies and playing children...
the long awaited celebration?
Instead, I see a cold
and hardened cliff,
with remnants of an icy waterfall
made colder by my own exasperation.

As I seek protected shelter
on this isolated pinnacle,
I cannot find content
to let my weary heart take rest;
Who am I now
without the cloak of innocence?
There are no answers in the cooling ashes
scattered on this crest.

I long to hasten back,
descend the path I've climbed,
and rest along the side
in soothing meadows I have passed;
But, no return to where I've been,
or way to close my eyes...
for comfort... as I stand confused
atop this brief relapse.

I'll stay awhile... to gather energy
and wake the dormant rays of laughter
that still echo deep
within the canyons of my mind,
As I cast away
the haunting memories
and longings to repaint the simple images
of the past I've left behind.

When sunlight hits the ice
and blinds my darkness,
and rainbows dance in crystal prisms,
I'll find the strength to mend;
Then I'll rise again,
weightless and renewed,
not at all afraid to step beyond this cliff
and drop... to float upon the wind.

"Ignorance is Bliss"

I didn't know you can't color with black crayons,

So I did --
And I etched around the moonlight
with the wrong color crayon.

I didn't know you can't plant a staghorn in a pot,

So I did --
And it's still alive and thriving
in the same wrong pot.

I didn't know you can't ask for what you need,

So I did --
And I don't always get it
but I keep trying anyway.

I didn't know you can't trust others,

So I did --
And sometimes I'm betrayed
but I still try to trust.

I didn't know you can't stand up for yourself,

So I did --
And sometimes I get knocked down
but I stand right back up.

I didn't know you can't let people see you cry,

So I did --
And some people don't like it
but I still cry when I'm sad.

I didn't know you can't fight the system,

So I did --
And sometimes it works,
and sometimes it doesn't.

I didn't know you can't make political waves,

So I did --
And I didn't sink or drown
in the raging tidal current.

I didn't know you can't stop to smell the roses,

So I did --
And it didn't waste time
and I flourish with the fragrance.

"Power of Secrecy"

The nightmare of the victim's torture chamber
is securely sealed by secrecy and fear;
Behind the prison bars, -- in solitary,
is the child who sheds a lonely, silent tear.

Stripped of dignity and hiding in the shadows,
bravely praying for a rapid dawning light,
A trusting child becomes the helpless victim,
without essential weapons needed for the fight.

The bars remain invisible to busy passers by,
who do not stop to help the frightened child
Or pause to see the pain inflicted cleverly,
as the innocent is silenty defiled.

Predators retain the keys with subtle threats,
and captivate the hostage through deception;
A child is subject to the violation --
veiled as "friendship," or shrouded as "protection."

The villain gains its abject cunning power
through apathetic silence of the masses
And passive stance of all the sightless people,
who will not loose the choking silent lashes.

To turn away will sacrifice the child
and support the power of the covert beast,
While we leave the keys that lock the dungeons' secrets
in the evil hands of those we trust the least.