All is Lost

All is lost
my heart is draped with deaths cloak
a forsaken shadow is cast across my eyes
I can no longer love
nor can other love me
desolate
my survival will last long enough to pierce
my heart with the knife that will draws
out my blood
all is lost

Alone

Alone

All I can see is the grim follow me as I run to flee
its malevolent grasp relentlessly clasps
onto my soul and I am lost to though who know
that the end will show I am alone
                                                       10/13/2002

BEWARE

Beware

OUT OF MIND
TRAVEL BEWARE
THERE IS NO LOCATION ONLY DESPAIR
WHERE HAVE I STRAYED
I HAVE LOST MY STANCE
THESE MOMENT PASS IN JUST A GLANCE
I HAVE CRIED FROM MY HEART AND CRIED FORM MY SOUL
I HAVE LOST MY WAY THIS JOURNEY FROM HOME
8/11/05

nature's Mother

Blessed Be

Moments of silence empty the mind
Drawing up nature the energies divine
Move through the body for strength grows within
Sent in the world for perpetual change
Blessed be to the mother of all things


11/3/2009

towards the light

This is not what I want to be?

Through out my personal history I have encountered many crossroads. Various purposes though all have lead to my life. “I”, would not be, if it were not for my crossroads. These were the peaks, the place or position, which I stood determining myself.

There were crossroads of questionable moments, many enthralled debates ensued.  Which route would lead me to my ultimate destination? Pros and Cons, determining factors waffled with purpose through my head. Which will lead me to the success of my future endeavors? There were moments of intensity and suspense tingling in my head.  It was a game of logic. Which type of action will bear the fruit of my sowing? Do I fertilize the soil: do I change my college major? Always so thought out precise in action. And the decision would eventually become as polished as a diamond. Clarity would be revealed.

But these crossroads don’t always follow “The Domino Effect” with its purpose, full of intensity and suspense. Many moments in the realm of crossroads, are our darkest moments. It is then the most monumental changes ensued. A typhoon of, “who am I”. At times looking in the mirror can be agony… the true ugly self, which is when desperation is at its best.

This realm of true desperation has emanated from me twice in my life. Consumed by alcohol at one point and farther down my path the beginnings of a drug addict. Some of my darkest days reflected my desperation. Curiously, short lived in time-line but the longing of dreams shattered by self, lingered through eternity. These crossroads, the moments of divergences in my life’s journey, creeped upon me in swiftness. And I knew- what had I become. I could not even glance at the mirror for my face reeked of failure. But not a moment latter a decision was absolute. There were no debates drawing me through a battle of questions. At that moment, in an instant I changed, and never looked back.

Childless Childhood

Creeping child

Creeping lost child of life
cause fear to those in its sight
it move in the shadows when light appears
there is no escape it is always there
bringing grim into your home
gather doom where ever you go
you can not be free from its eerie ways
all you will know is constant dismay
tears you have shed has always fed
this lost child of life
                                                  10/13/2005

golden rays

Truth in Spirit

Step back... an attempt to reflect and understand these moments- my eyes become clouded. Unable to see, I feel a hand stretched out pulling me from the darkest of days as this hand helps me out of the darkness, I begin to see a light, which shines brighter than any light. I raise my hand to ease the glare in my eyes and it is then that I can see. It is a face with endearing eyes and a calming voice. This face is familiar to me. I focus on its eyes and I can see it is my spirit staring back at me. There, is my salvation, a kind heart and soul created this bright light. In ease, I realize this bright light is truth within... Light- it is the true me.

                                                                                                                       11-1-2009

drawing in the earth

Earth Magick

Beating down
Sun exhilarates
Spirit lift
Untouched height of the soul

Nipping cool breeze
Subtle brushing
Chilling the outer shell of humanity
Forces of nature intertwined
I am one
I am whole

I am the tree
The rock
The soil

Realism projected
Alone empty
Only a human life source

Combined energy flows
Tingling organs
Calm of mind
Earths energy is mine

11/1/2009

is it a question of time?

A New Era

Seven years have passed since the dawn of this era
Dark passage through time has prowled as a beast shadowing its pray
Feed the beast
Isolation, fear, and agony are captors
It rips through each victim gnawing on bone
There is no escape
Painful is the end
Till death frees you
                                                       11/17/2004

lost

Creeping child


Creeping lost child of life
causes fear to those in its sight
it move in the shadows when light appears
there is no escape it is always there
bringing grim into your home
gather doom where ever you go
you can not be free from its eerie ways
all you will know is constant dismay
tears you have shed has always fed
this lost child of life


                                                           10/13/2005

elemental principles and magick

The Essences of Magick

Thump, thump… thump, thump... thump, thump... It is with this action life begins. Physiology, an absolute concept, in its perfection it executes timed rhythms brought upon by the heart. Its purpose rears life into existences. Ah! Therefore the essence of life is the physical attribute provided by the heart.

Though, many exclaim, “home is where the heart lives”. Within this theory our home is a parallelism with our heart. Which raises the question: Is the purpose of the heart one of a physiological mean or one of emotional substance? This organ, the heart, is a function of life. This cannot be quarreled. But what is the truest purpose of the heart and its rhythms? Is it autonomous with function alone or is it bilaterally connected with emotions.

As a consideration to our question, we must further our inquiry into the mind. When destitute, we feel melancholy and despondent. Our bodies are weighted. Physical pain is felt in the chest. This is contributed to the theory of a “broken Heart”. Contrarily, within its beat holds the wonders of love. A feeling of elation as the heart beats strong and hard. This emotion felt in the heart encapsulates the very substance of love. When it is given freely we flourish. Its correlation is named an “enchanted heart”.

A duality appears present, one of physical and emotional purpose. Now, we must formulate a new question one which dives deep into the root of life. What is the relationship between this duality and our existence? This is the question we must ask ourself. For within the answer comes the knowledge of our existence.

Through the contemplation of this question, one begins to realize that the ability of life extends beyond the pure physical body. There is a dominant factor, which allows the execution of a physical body to bring forth life; henceforth, this dominate factor, is the giver of life.

In a term this dominates comes from energy. Energy is the root of existence. The heart in it self does not provide our life source. It is the impulses of energy that unfolds life. Without energy there would be no initiation of activity within the muscles of the heart. Energy is also the cultivator of emotions. It is in the brains chemistry with its abundance of tightly packed neurons firing electrical impulses and releasing ample molecular configurations. The brain brings forth a physical reaction that the body undergoes during the minds emotional state of being. These chemicals are the culprits of our physical reactions to various emotional states and energy is the controller of these chemicals.

Energy equals life. To avoid befuddlement I shall explain the fundamentals of the relationship between existence and substance. Energy is in all things animate and inanimate. Without energy there would be nothing. There is a methodology at work and energy is the root. It occurs in the simplest of matter. For simplicity basic chemistry and physics proves the power and importance of energy. Systematically all things are formed by an energetic attraction and this reaction involves the movement of energy. And all things have potential energy as well which can be accessed if needed.

Energy brings forth the makings of an atom to molecules and eventually a complete entity. It is the building block of all in existence due to these properties. Since all objects are interconnected, we as people at our basic elements are no different then a rock or tree- we are connected by the principles of science. Therefore, all in existence is interconnected. Objects are cohesive because the movement of energy. So we can easily hypothesis that energy can move through and between all things by means of the atmosphere as a conduit since the atmosphere too is created via energy.

By clarifying the simplicity of these concepts one can grasp the reality of capturing energy at will. Energy is ample in the world and can be drawn upon for usage. It is no different then many of the comforts of the day’s age. Technology uses free energy to function. With this knowledge clarify it is possible to draw in free pure energy from our surrounding into ones self. This brings us to the concept of the power of prayer or as I call it ritual.

My religion is called Wicca, which integrates magick in its rituals. The reality of magick is basic on these concepts. Magick brings all of these principles together and uses them for the basis of the craft.

Magick is the movement of energy preformed by the practitioner. All people have the ability to move energy. It can be push out of the body into the atmosphere as well as being drawn in from other objects. Through grounding, meditating and ritual a witch can move personal and surrounding energy in and out of themselves. The act of moving energy in the cosmos is the reality of magick and it is truly a tool of power due to the properties of existences.


Wiccans personal energy through physiology, via the body’s function as well as their thoughts and emotions, is the fundamentals of magick. External energy is utilized and strengthened by the addition of personal energy. A cohesive thought coupled with the strength of emotions, physical body energy and pure external energy which as been drawn from the environment is sent out into the world via abundant energy; magick can clearly occur, playing a crucial part in connecting and changing the practitioner world. Witchcraft is not a frightful activity it does not include negative energy it utilize pure energy. It is not Satanism, and does not worship evil. Wiccans do not believe in the negative force from an entity many religions called the devil. All energy is pure to be used in a positive manner, to enhance the practitioners’ life. By using the most pure elements that surrounds all and integrated it in magick, a powerful tool is obtained. Wiccans rituals are an equivalent to prayer in more common religions, since traditional pray uses energy as well.

turning time

Here comes Octo....burrrrrr

October is near so the wind has declared a crisp in the air
this crisp of the wind brought about a gust without much fuss
there is no doubt that a rain-spout will soon be sought-out
lurking, a darkening sky is seen by your eye
its menacing clouds rumble aloud while they enshrouds
they releases a mist which gives a kiss to all that exist
now you know this sprinkle of rain never comes in vain
it brings colored leaves which aim to please
awing the sight with hue delight
sadly the end of the year is quickly drawing near
so the awing sight will disunite and take flight
floating down once the color brown is renown
followed by a temperature drop which causes the rain to stop
and swap the drop
from plain rain to the clouds champagne
an intricate design flowing slow and fine
and in just that way we can clearly say
the winter snare is finally here
and the rain we had weathered is seasonally tethered

9/15/07

pumpkin head

The Watch-Man

Hey look, Jack is back!
He comes around when the wind begins to sound
and a whisper of a chill is the current thrill
Known by many, there are not any
who know him the same way
Some see him grieve while others perceive him as relieved
No one really knows how many sides he shows
But he is always there whether there is fear or cheer
In fact, Jack has a intense impact on those he knows
especially when a light glows
It is at night, by candle light
when he is most keen and best seen
He is the watch-man at night when colored leaves are in flight
So if you intend to visit a friend and the hour is late
you may see Jacks light illuminate
But do not fixate on the glow which he will show
Just smile hello
or, go-slow
depending on if his face
will embrace or deface


9/11/2007

spooky

Fright in a Night

As the sun dips down and the night
comes around, on one day of the year
creatures appear. On this day there is
an array of hauntings that douse people
who live in an old house. The shrilling
sounds of those who shriek have bright
white eyes that pierce the night and
cause a fright. High in the air flies
bats drawing near and you must quickly
veer or their teeth shall meet your
neck as you sleep. The sinister shows
a wort on their nose and pale green
skin has always been wicked with black
hats and black cats. Echoing Sounds
from howling beasts who hunt in the
east. They do not care in the least
when they are heard as they feast.
These creepy monsters are everywhere,
and sheepish children will always fear
when they hear they are near.
10/15/2005

To Be Bound

In the midst of a crisis, there are only but
the few, who will have the strength and faith
to see victory through. The brave have stamina
they forge through the night. They will not
be impeded by the blackness in sight. These
demons they battle relentlessly come. There
is no end to their numbers-impossible to be
counted one-by-one. This struggle began
over a decade ago and is still going strong
as the days pass on. There was a time when
they thought that there would be a end to
this fight. Since they used all of their
strength and all of their might. But now
they proclaimed that they will always be
bound.
Marlo Suderski
Hospital 1/9/07

tragity

Modern Ways

Rustling trees shimmer
impeding winds of mother nature
her dominance molds our lives

vial gushes of chilled rain cascade
beating on our feeble heads

we run for shelter
leaping cascaded gravel
dodging mechanical aliens
to escape to the serene concrete environment
our deaf world

the infrastructure of our modern ways
designed to withstand her brutality

we are the paramount ones

engineering trickery
20th century witchery
will tame the beast

acrid odors seep relentlessly form our world
blackened smoke torn skies linger
puking acid back in our faces

gallantly we march towards developed foundations
echoing strength in our mind
slithering tongues laughing pompously
as the door slams behind
2/19/1995

destiny

Dream

How many, will see the dreams of future days
or will they drift away unknown by the many
who yearn for hope and destiny. Dreams are
the makers of men and of sovereignty but
can be the destroyers as well.
These are the visions that urge us in our waking
hour. Beyond dreams we walk, our path
will reveal our destiny or will our destiny
reveal our path. It is this unknown concept
that spines swiftly towards chaos. Unwittingly,
men do not know which winged angel is to be
followed, if at all. This is why, travels always
cause despondency when it reveals a fruitless
endeavor. Whether we are guided matters not
if our path has not produced what our hearts
desire. so chaos flickers in each of us when
our dreams are unrealized. And our struggle
will continue whether or not destiny comes
before or after the walked path.
8/13/05

circular motion

Deminishing Light

At my darkest night thoughts race rampantly through me. I am in motion, though still.
Animosity flows, it travels the length of my soul. It is my existences, it is the
impossibility of change. I speak of true change from what i have become.
a monster of uncontrolled existence, of impulsiveness. To me, I can not see a
end it is impossible since the sight of my eyes do not encompass my actions.
Rational, is a concept which i have clung to in my state, in my existences. I
believe in my mind and in my heart the purity of good intensions. But my intentions
are lead astray by my wayward existence. I am lost and each passing moment has
continued to lead me farther and farther from what is right. Righteousness does not
exist in my world. It is only through the eyes of others that help to lead me to the
path of salvation. Sadly, often it is my darkest hour which reflects through the eyes
of love ones. The revelation of my confusion is often useless since the late hour has
brought me to the point of no return. I have destroyed my foundation and I teeter on
the brink of deviation, bringing with me the love of my soul. He does not deserve
this fallen life. His loyalty is undeserving. Though without it my walls would crumble,
my worlds would cease to exist and i would lay down and die. He is the glue which
holds me together. He is the one who has created the tiniest ray of light and warmth
in my life. I am saddened by my continuous acts of destruction which rips at him like a
dull blade which mutilates his flesh. Oblivious, I continue to destroy his world
over and over. He is without soul and it is I who has pulverized it. Remorse beats
through my heart and flows in my veins but a change never remains. Only momentary
knowledge of my destruction ever exists. Swiftly, i am once again encapsulated in the
confusion of my world. Blind to the darkness of my ways. Once again clouded by my
wayward good intensions. Chaos runs rampantly once again. And the blade rips
deepening his wound which has no end.
8/23/07

bloody night

Colored Drops Reveal A clock

Across the neck
smooth and deep
warm wet essence of life emerge
it is then you demise will lead your eyes through foot-steps
the path taken is well known
it is your reflection of what you are and will never be
each drop spilled brings one step closer to complete the tale of thee
you are cold
chills run the length of your chest and back
it is simply the symptom of the end drawing near
your breath slow and shallow as life seeps out
color pools at your feet
tick tock silenced the clock
it is then you fall ending all
and your life is now complete

9/2/07

hmmm- what do i do?

decisions-decisions

there are so many
how is one to decide
if i chose this
what about that
and if i chose that
what about the many others
how does one truly know which way to go

the direction to take- is it where your heart lays awake
the road winds
there are often inclines and declines
converges and diverges too
there is no marked route that will make do
there is only a walk which is a new

there is no single path
no single trail
easily lost to no avail

if our heart is the truth sayer
what do we follow if our heart is hollow?
the journey is specific designed for one
and you will travel its path until its done
so search deep and hard to hear your heart pound
and quickly follow its sound
and you may find your way through the gray
although it is hard to say
if your heart lead you the best way

growing up

Once there was a Seed


Usually the old oak whispered well,
but this time he clearly said he had
a story to tell. “Once there was a seed.
It was a seed on a tree. It unlatched from
the firm grasp, from the tree at last.
It whirled, dancing with the wind.
It moved to the left, then to the
right, slightly up, then farther down,
spinning round and round and round,
down towards the ground.
When it finely touched a blade of grass
it was then it realized its monumental
task. This wee little seed was the beginning
of a tree, with its own bark and roots
and leaves. Boy what a full life it will lead.
Before it is time to start its climb, it must
start to grow way down low. It grows earthbound
and wraps around the rocks that are found. It
embraces the shape of a fine white lace. Once
the roots are firmly placed a stem pops up to
take the seeds place. It reaches high into the sky.
It grows by day and rests at night. It smiles into
the sun with delight and resting itself in
the moonlight. Days go by and it raises high
into the sky. Its growth is pleasant indeed.
So it finally burst forth with a leaf. It is then that
the wee little seed is no longer a seed. Then the
wee little seed, is a wee little tree. And it will
grow into one of me.”

original works
1/1/2008

evolution

Look to the Sky


There was a time, long ago, when the things that flew
could not be subdued. They were normally green and
well seen. Many people would focus on their beady
black eyes. What followed was a surprise- a long
tapered tail, which seemed as long as a whale.
As they whooshed through the wind they would fly
very high and at top-speed they were fast indeed.
At times it seemed as if they would disappear into
thin air. Nobody would know were they would go,
so when they re-appeared, they would bring a tear to the
eyes of those near. But what was feared most all,
was not that they were tall. Or even that they would
disappear and re-appear quite near. It was because their
breath filled the air and caused fire to appear. So people
were shy when they flew through the sky. And there-by
they were so named,“dragons that fly”. So you better
watch the sky!

Years and years have passed and the “dragons that fly”
still catch people’s eye. They remained green but now
have a shimmering sheen that can be seen. Although,
now it is common place for them to fly in a low space,
they still whoosh in the air and seem to disappear.
No one cries when seeing their beady black eyes and their
tails are not the length of whales, instead they are re-scaled
to the length of a bunny’s cotton-tail. People no longer fear
them, since now they hum instead of having fire come.
Much has changes about the creatures that fly. They
are now the size of a bug instead of a large thug. So
rightfully their name has changed from that of a thug
to that of a bug. Now they are so named “dragonflies”
because of their size. And the “dragons that fly” are
no longer in the sky.

original works
1/4/2008

a dream

I spy and want to fly

I spy pink in my eyes. It is a reflection from the sun raising in the sky. A minute later the
pink in my eyes will change. Then I will spy a color that’s new, most likely it will be blue.
Orange, red or yellow are common colors too, which come before the color blue. The
sky always seem new, since its colors change within a great range before it finely turns
blue . It is the sun rising that provides this colorful delight which reveals beauty in my
sight.

Often I run under the sun and close my eyes to visualize how it would be to fly past
the sea as the sun comes up just for me. Then I would clearly know that it is the
colorful show that makes the sun my favorite place in outer space. Of all the planet and
the other stars or even the moon nothing compares to the joy I fair, brought by the
colorful fun of the sun. There is absolutely no other place that makes my face smile
with grace. So if I had the chance I would chase the sun where ever it would run.

Pretending to fly while I play outside was a common game. I run and jump while flapping
my arms. I dream that the wind might lift me up, so I can fly with the birds in the sky.
But on those days the wind always fades, so I am bound to be left on the ground. It
would have to be a giant gust from the winds thrust that would lift me up high. On that
day I will fly away without delay to visit the sun just for fun.

As usual I began my day with lots of play. I ran, hopped and flapped my arms in my
usual attempt to be lifted off the ground. But, this day was different, much to my surprise
the wind had arrived. It was a giant gust with an up-thrust. Which was just enough to lift
me off the ground and whorl me around.

Once in the air, which is very rare, I flapped my arms and it twirled me about without
a doubt. My shoes where left behind as I started the incline. Then my feet dangled as I
flew on an angle. It was difficult at first, I must of been the worst. But i eventually figured
it out so that I could fly all about.

I raced, passing birds then the clouds and even a plane. So on this day I could not
refrain from being entertained. I when up, up, and up flying so high. I could not
believe it was me in the sky. I was having so much fun I decided to greet the sun.
“Here I come Sun”, I will try to fly so very high. “When I reach you I will formally
greet you”.

As I continues on my way, I closed my eyes. Focusing on the feeling of the warm sun on my
face, while I flew at a quick pace. After a while I open my eyes. It was then I realized
a shocking surprise. There had been a terrible mistake that made my heartbreak.

I passed the sun in my haste, and guess what took its place. I think it is
made of Swiss cheese, or at least that is what it seemed. Curious to see
what it maybe, I bent over to take a bite but it did not taste like a cheesy
delight.

Now I am stuck very, very high, in a place that is a cheesy disguise.
The next time I try to fly way up high I won’t be shy. I’ll greet the sun with
my eyes opened wide to help guide me through the sky, so I will not
fly past the sun and reach the moon when I am done.
original works
1/19/2008

NOTE: No one should ever look directly into the sun. It will
damage you eyes.

freedom is yours

I will be free

It is strange how the voyage towards salvation anguishes within my
soul. If these moments of existents where simplistic would the
passionate drive for fulfillment be less the fruit it bears. I am a
wondering stranger lost in travel touching the world with my
finger tips, tasting with my lips. It is completeness that I seek. The
fields of passion so sweet, I crave for this sweet passion. Contrived
existence will be yours said the spirit...I feel the call. Wind beckoning,
it whirls, vivacious chills against my warmed body, creeping bumps
serpentine down my back. The raw soul is pure. Tantalizing dreams,
fantasies...Run in the wild with the wolves, I am free, branches of life
beating against my tattered body, blood drips from and and feet...
swim to the mystical depths in the sea, I am free, the dolphins splash
calling with there shrilling bark ringing, ringing it drums in my ears...
fly riding the wind, I am free floating in a sea of gases elements, like
a bird I shell fly high in my sky free for all even me. Listen close.
Celestial sounds call, singing songs, cherubic voices of angles say my
name...you who dwell in the shadows of this earth shell find refuge.
I am a tree reaching up, up, up, dance the dance with the winds against
my coarse dilapidated bark with chirping song of everlasting music
interwoven amongst my branches, the birds shout. Blind
foolish ones see stamina and fortitude standing tall miles high the
solid trunk is my being...look deep at my base, deeper- you must pierce
my body with your eyes only then will you see how deep my roots lie.
That is my dark side untouched by the rays of warmth, hope. It lie deeper
then my dreams and fantasies. Weaving between the rock and dirt.
Jaunty cold wet earth saturates my heart. Stretching arms wide
embracing the darkness, its my journey to hell.

ouch it hurts

Circle of Life

The summer time may seem sublime
but this is when life takes a birthing spin
Consider a bug, a quadruped the color red
it whisk through the atmosphere which we share
during a weather reprieve from an sever upheave
comes foliage all abloom these bugs rightfully consume
clearly we can surmise these bugs engross in cellulose
without plentiful plants it would be impossible to enchant
these colorful delights voracious appetites
so when the circle-of-life is in strife it effects these insects
since a interconnection is not the exception
in retrospect the humans disconnect from the worth of the earth
will take its toll on all life we know
Not just bugs but also people that are smug
global warming is a warning that life wont survive if we do not nurture nature
now we can deduct that if humanity continues to obstruct the nature flow
life will cease and they will never find peace in a dying planet
it is crucial for humanity to admit that they are the culprit
creating a worldwide cesspit
and the only way any life will survive is to archive devastating nature
So that the planet may rebirth its entire girth
Hopefully reclamation is not to late and it will equate elation


original writing
9/11/2009

which is the witch?

Who’s Pointy Black Hat is That?


Cauldrons and broomsticks, you may think ick
but there are those who do not think gross
they have skin of green and remain unseen
until all Hollows eve it is then you will see
they are not make-believe

It is said, in the stories that are told that witches never grow old.
they brew cauldrons with bubbles which may cause troubles
since a dash of hemlock will cause a shock and eye of newt
should never be dilute unless cooked with mandrake root.

it is also boldly told that witches wear a pointy black hat.
and that’s a that!
but what they forget to say is that they will cast away without dismay
with their magic stick which only needs a flick

if you are near a witch you may overhear them rant, but what they really
do is chant. and with a short spell they can always tell if a toad is a
bombshell if they are not compelled to kiss-and-tell.

they also have a broomstick which is quick and can make you airsick
as they travel the sky flying high, it is then they espy as they pass the moon by.

now you know it to be true and it is not a roose. so you should look for clues this way
you will know who’s who. But there are times when they play tricks on our minds
so they can be hard to find.

although, there is a way to surely say if a witch has pulled a switch. It is when they
are near, you may naturally feel fear, and this witch will cause you to twitch
but do not flinch or it will bewitch you in a stitch.
-Marlo Suderski
9/17/2006

finale

The GRIM

drip...drip...drip...
blood spreads thinly across brick
as hard as the
unbreakable concept of death.
there is no running
or hiding from this solid end
life is fragile but death is firm and resilient
tick...tick...tick...
are its sounds drawing near
it is what you hear
the sounds of hollow faces
speaking in empty tongues
with empty recognition of what
they are and where they must go
thump...thump...thump...
as black heavy filth
is tossed on your box
rigid self rest
still of breath
empty is your voice
blank is your mind
you are denied more time
and
that
is
that!
8/12/05

pen in hand

I cry

probe
espy
extract
something is there
what is it
what am i concealing
what have i entombed
emtiness
why am i empty
what has raped my insides
why am i crying
i do not know
i hurt inside
why i do not know
i do not know why
it is here then it is gone
then it comes and goes again
what is it
i do not know
i do not know
it comes when it is not wanted
and it does not come when it is called
i do not know why
i do not know why
i cry i cry
i do not know why i cry
so many tears
oh my heart the pain i am dying
let go
i try to let go
free my self release myself
with my pen
write
i will be free
no
i can not write
my passion i can not write
i am empty
i am alone
i become another when i write
oh i do not know
it is not me
pen in hand
it is not me
when i write
write
your heart is in your pen
than i shall write with my heart
paper as tool
i shall divulge my self for all to see
but they shall never know
for it is only a word on a piece of paper
they shall never truly know
who i am and why i cry
10/04/1993

encompassed life

Hourglass

I am captured. Slick transparent
walls embodies my era. The glass
of life feasts on my time. It is
the sands that are the moments
given to me as my birth right.
Newness and mystery fulfill the
sands of height as they wait
patiently to pass the
narrow road of life.
And for that single
moment that they
pass through the
spout they come
alive triumphantly
and dance as dreams delight.
But as quickly as it comes
it fades away too. Granules de-
send ceasing moments from pre-
sent to historical views. My era
will conclude when all the sand
has dropped. There is only one
thing left. That is time for someone
else’s life. Wright College 1992

theory or Fact

Philosophy

Ones destiny takes form with each
moment of existence. Each experience
shapes who we are in the presents
of a particular day. So we are but a
reflection of our past existence. Or are
we more? As the multitude of years
past, we slowly become the creature
of our existence. But it is an individual
day that mold us into who we are. Our
ideals are but reflections of our past as
well as present moments in life. The
school of life is existence. But, each
individual teaches themselves what to
extract from the day to form their
present ideals. As a student of life
individual growth is internal and the
perpetuation of such growth may only
occur with open eyes to the surrounding
world. Moments of life provide the
possibility of personal change but this
change may not occur if the student
becomes blinded lacking the sight for
internal growth which brings about
change. If this growth is stunted the
individual dies, and a internal pit
forms at the core of existence. The
past thereafter, will not relinquish
it self as past moments it maintains
its existence in each day and holds
the possibility of existence in tomorrow
as well. It is only with the release of the
past that frees tomorrow into a brand
new day. It is the present that has the
ability to change who we are and what
we will become till the end of a day. As
each day draws to its end a new mold is
made and imprinted with what we will
be in tomorrow. So it is possible to learn
new ideals as long as we remain
self-motivated student of the present
and express our new formed knowledge
in the next day. Once past moments
have been shape with presents ones the
past is no longer finite.This is how one
can exist in the present without expressing
moments of the past.With eyes wide open
we will always change.
fall 1996

finding yourself

Is It A Question of Healing?

There are moments in my life which seem to last forever.
Each breath I take may only last a single second-lingers on
into eternity.

It is the compounding nature of life that bares the weight
of a load which is impossible to carry. As life proceeds, each
step must be carefully placed, so as not to stumble under the
great weight of these travesties.To stumble will bring about
an avalanche of emotions which will bury the soul. One can
only hope that this will not bring about the end of all that
comforts and relieves a weary soul and a troubled mind.
And if this tumble is inevitable, how will one find their
footing after one falls?

This question has plagued my thoughts for the many years
I have struggled with this disorder.

I have been told, that time heals all. But how much time is
needed to heal a wound which is constantly opened under
the great weight that life bestows upon us.The answer can
not be found in any book, or taught by any teacher. It is a
answer which can only be found after searching within. This
answer resides within all of us. This great weight will only
lessen as it is revealed.

This brings about another troubling question.The trials of
life which forms the monstrosity which we bare, inevitably
confuses the mind and impairs the senses. One can become
lost in even the most familiar surroundings. One loses the
ability to rightfully exist in their own space- their physical
body. If the mind is lost and the body alien. How does one
self-examine the soul to cure this persistent wound which plagues
their life? Which if not tended to, will eventually crush and
deaden you spirit, emptiness shall reign and you will be but
a shell of the person that you were born to be.
Marlo Suderski
Hospital 1/8/07

transparent isolation

A Deaf Cry

deathless shrieking echo of a drop
drips to profound depths of emptiness
daggers prevail as they are plunged continuously
deep into the heart of a love

listen
try to here the sound
feel its presence

it is the cry of a porcelain doll
anguish emptiness chaos and fear
are all sounds of its daunting tears
unable to move
she tries to cry out
howls of pain
shrinking echoes of tears
the cry of her voice lingers through walls of empty ears

hold me
touch me
accept me
can you see
I am here

original writing by
marlo suderski
8/26/1992

In the beginning

Disclaimer: this essay was written in response to a discussion in my communications course, speech 103, The topic was "abuse in families and its effects on children" The truth of this essay rests in the hands of the many classmates vocalizing their thoughts over this much deserved debate. I would like to make it very clear that this is not a true story it is only my emotional reaction and interpretation of the debate in class that day. I titled it "In The Beginning " because it is relation to the circular motion which occurs in many of these situations.

A Child's Legacy

That evening was no different then any other
night. My father sat in his chair, shoulders
pulled back, posture raised high with a drink
in hand. The aroma of bittersweet vodka
rested on his breath. It was a delicacy he would
indulge in each night after a full days labor
in the office. He resembled a king sitting on
his throne, drinking from the Grail that gave
him the birth of his nobility.

Each time he spoke he had rage in his eyes
and his glass would sway from left to right.
His mighty words would be spoken only
once, when he lashed with his tongue like
a whip. “Pour me another drink,” he
roared, each time the clock struck the hour.
His voice would rise and sounds would roar
like crashing waves on a solid brick wall. In
a couple of hours my ears would grow numb
to the words he spewed from the tip of his
tongue.

I would stay very still each hour he drank,
hoping that he would not notice me while
the night turned today. For all those hours
I would crunch down low and hug myself
tightly to lessen my fear. I would squeeze
myself and gasp for air, while pretending
another person was there, nurturing and
loving me with the security of their hold.
Shortly, I would realize that no one else was
there, so my grip would weaken with
despair.

I pleaded for God to save me from the hell
of my home. “Please God I’m sorry for what
I’ve done. I won’t be bad any more. I
promise, Lord I’ll always be good, just take
me away from this cold dark home.”

The day passed then months and years but my
prayers were never answered. God left me
alone, cold and frightened, to fend for
myself in my own personal hell.

Quivering each night with tears in my eyes, I
would wonder if my father would he mad at me
this time. I had seen his anger attack my mom.
He castigates and beats her with his hands
clutched into fists. The whole time boasting
frantically about his manhood, his nobility as
king.

The night slowly passed and I was spared. It
was my mom’s turn to pay the price of the
legacy within our home. With swiftness he
struck again and again. He battered and
bruised her till she dropped to the floor.
He sucked the life right out of her soul. I saw
her strength diminishing from with in her heart.
I tried to yell STOP but no sound came out. I
just sat in the corner paralyzed with fear,
praying he would just disappear. I could see
the blood drop from her face on to the floor.
She attempted to stand then he struck her
once more. From deep inside my heart,
anguish raged. I finally had the strength to
yell, “Daddy I hate you! Don’t hit mommy
that way!”

He turned, looked and stared me down.
Instantly, I knew I was his next victim. Fear
overcame me. I tried to run as fast as my frail
legs would carry me, but I was not fast enough
to escape the tyrant. He grabbed my hair on
the back of my head, swiftly pulling my face
towards his. For a moment our eyes met and I
saw Satan reigned within his soul. He cocked
his arm back with fist of steel and all went
black for now.

I realize now the reason for my existences is to
continue the legacy that was passed to my
father from his father. I am doomed to beat my
children and my children beat theirs. It was
bestowed upon us the day of our birth.

10/14/1993