Four Poems by Claudia Wysocky

 

Heaven and Hell

Silence fills the air,
as I sit, alone,
among endless rows of graves.


I wish for heartbeats,
for laughter,
for tears.


I miss the noise.


But I know that I can't have it.


I can hear the footsteps of the living,
but there's no sound for me.


Silence surrounds me,
as I lay in my own void,
a void of life,
eternal and silent.


I will never know happiness again.


But I accept it,
lying here, alone,
among endless rows of graves.


It was fun being dead for a while,
to feel the quiet
and the peace.
I thought hell would have fire and brimstone,
but I guess that's only what they tell us.


I'm moving on now,
accepting my reality.
And I know that one day,
I'll find my meaning,
In the cold abyss.


But for now, all I have is silence,
a silence that never ends.


And I bet there's fire in heaven.

Thoughts On Cars?

 

When it begins to sink—

When it pains me to believe

that something won't change even though you try,

And all your words mean nothing

all these words are tossed aside

—And any light I may have carried, drowns

It was a phase we all need to go through.

Some of us learn sooner, others later—

but we will break out into the other side of this.

Take it step by step—

for it's not easy walking on your own.

But it helps to know that the sun will rise

no matter what happens tonight.

—Except certain death.

Maybe it's my sadness hitting me

maybe I'm too afraid to move on.

—Or maybe it's the lights in front of me—

blinding me from what's real.

But don't worry about me.

I'll be fine. I promise.

I know you'll find your way in the end—

just breathe it all away

and know that nothing lasts forever.

—I should probably get off the road.

—Sooner yet, I should find my way back home.

But I'm not lost. Not anymore.

I'm just finding what's real;

And for now, this feels so right.

—The car's gonna hit me, isn't it?

Foolish Understanding

 

The things I thought unmeetable—unattainable—as if from Eden—

Forever luring us with what could never be pure in value as it might have been—

  Or so we've all been told: 

But why should my heart believe it this for so?  

This is what I know!  

My dreams! 

As clear as the words of my own ears—

Unencumbered by notions of what I was or would be. 

Just a child at that point in time; 

  Unaware of the traps or whims of foolish understanding. 

Always trying, always striving.

And now, standing here--where was I standing before?

Redacted

 

Routine is the devil of a stranger:

   A death spell is different only in name.

18th century England--the rise of industrialisation,

   the first factory system—the spilling out of a Satanic rage.

Alone, for I sought you everywhere.

  In Spain, at five paces away from me,

 Your torso moving gracefully like a flower blooming—

So perfect you were; I should have found a way

to grasp the beauty in it: 

  To be with you was to be good, filled with God's love,

But in that moment my heart dared leap out of my chest

    In the frantic-ness to make time stop for us... To make us both strong enough to last eternally— To love us amidst the world's fear of each other— It is not as easy as it seems...  

  It is enough that we are together.

  You are here beside me. And that's enough.

Claudia Wysocky, a Polish poet based now in New York, is known for her ability to capture the beauty of life through rich descriptions in her writing. She firmly believes that art has the potential to inspire positive change. With over five years of experience in fiction writing, Claudia has had her poems published in local newspapers and magazines. For her, writing is an endless journey and a powerful source of motivation.