Tuesday, July 8, 2014


I published this poem in the late fall of 2013. It is based on emotional pain which I for some reason could feel and see in a dear friend of mine due to PTSD. I suspect it’s because I too suffer from some form of this disorder as a result of violence. It is a devastating and debilitating condition. The only thing that has saved me has been love, kindness and understanding. The title of the poem is “Face-On”. I am republishing upon request.


I slam; face-on, into moments laden on a white wall,
Bits of me splatter in earthen sprig, the painter’s call.
Is it night or day? I can’t speak, stand or even crawl,
As light pricks blind slants in peeks; lint shakily falls.

It’s the sound of a heart that breaks, upon “real” sight,
a thunderous clap as loons ascend water at first flight.
Then a darken reality enters a mind; it takes hold,
lost in a thicken mist, chilled, wet, wintery to the bone.

Yesterday is gone at the flash of all that’s bright,
tomorrow's view hidden; slowly, I'm losing control in this fight.
Yet, inexplicably time stops this free “bleed”; instinct takes claim,
stitching a cursed, exhausted soul which now feels shame.

Diana Mary Sharpton © 2014 ~ All Rights Reserved

1.) Photography: http://www.psdgraphics.com/graphics/red-paint-splatter/