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The VCR Diaries- Act 2, Part 2

The VCR Diaries: A Poetic Documental


Act 2- Cassandra, Part 2
I’ve smelled that fragrance before; a couple years ago and somewhere I shouldn’t have.  Now it’s behind me.  We’re standing on a singular stage with multiple platforms, but there’s no equality where weight is concerned.  I’ve shut the side windows to my eyes.  Nothing’s coming through them to distract me.  I’m more interested in what’s before me.  Well sort of, just as soon as I’m finished this documental.


Graveyard of Hearts

The graveyard of hearts,
Holds all the dead romances,
All the worn friendships,
And all the still born babies.

You might think there should be weeds everywhere,
But everything has got its place…
Past, Future, Present.

Next to my dead loves,
I planted Japanese painted ferns,
And nothing’s getting through them.

It’s a quiet graveyard,
Just like you might imagine,
But the eyes on the hearts,
They move around a lot.

I heard about dead loves making a match,
Once,
No twice,
But the decorator insisted they go back into their places.

It was heart breaking,
The story,
But nothing like the ones,
That got them there.

It’s a frigid place too,
And dark,
Except like I said,
Those one or two sparks.

I got quite a bit of things stored there,
Even a jar with tears.

I ran back once,
When I thought someone knocked it over,
But it was just a rumor,
It’s still there and the lids on tight.

I sometimes get visitors,
They come and sit on the head stone,
Where it’s even colder,
And there’s some left over bitter.

I come and dust and clean,
Sometimes I even change the drapes,
But the color is always the same.

It’s not so dry and coarse,
The ground.
It rains,
And the hearts always swells.

And just then,
When all is swell,
I like to remember,
The road each one took.

Just then when all is swell,
I think to squeeze out the hearts,
And start another jar with tears,
But my fear remains,
They'll lose their fame. 


Peace With A Lie

Who doesn’t enjoy peace,
It’s not talkative,
It’s not boastful,
It’s cooperative.

I like peace.

But have you ever seen peace with a lie?
It’s mannerisms changes,
And it gets shy.

It’s a deeper quiet,
One that wears shades,
And long sleeves,
And socks and shoes.

It sticks out like a sore thumb,
And still it’s hard to grasp,
It’s mean looking,
And yet still so peaceful.

The chemistry of the two,
I tell you,
So blue-green.

And still you should see the line.

They come in droves to make peace with a lie,
They die waiting to make peace with a lie,
They lay in hospital rooms trying to make peace with a lie.

I did see the line,
And it did get my attention.

I did see the line,
And it sure sounded as if it called my name.

I did see the line,
And it looked like fun.

I did see the line,
And it was moving fast.

I did see the line,
But couldn’t find the sand.

I did see the line,
And tried to jump it.

And just about then...

There was a growl,
And then a hiss.

And that’s when,
I awakened from my daydream,
And found peace,
Sitting there naked.

And it’s just about then,
I dropped the lie,
And held onto that peace,
With both hands.
And when I did,
True peace smiled.  



All Poems Written by NaTisha Renee Williams 
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.  Written permission must be secured from the author Natisha R. Williams and/or Grace Call Communications, LLC to use or reproduce any part of this Literary Work, except for brief quotation in critical reviews or articles.
The VCR Diaries Copyright 2018 by Natisha Renee Williams, All Right Reserved.

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