“This World is Yours”

On By Mike U.In Poetry

“This World is Yours”
(c) 2023 by Michael L. Utley

you thought you could
save the world
wee lad
you couldn’t even
save yourself

those bleak nighthawk skies
where dead stars fall
like blood-bloated flies
and fey winds howl
in deafened ears
a behemoth’s fetid exhalation
violent and ignorant
and inexorable

breathe
breathe it all in
the sweat-soaked fear
the bitter tang of futility
fill your lungs
wee lad
this world is yours
as far as tear-blurred
eyes can see

pry up decrepit floorboards
in the dim derelict
cellar of childhood
see the blind white-bellied
squirming things
trundle dumbly, aimlessly
in sepulchral voids
gelatinous excreta
glistening in darkness
a treasure trove
of memories
a box of hell
a gift that keeps on giving
handle these with care
wee lad
lest they consume your soul

you battled the familiar demon
on twilight moors of yore
he wore your scar for years
you’ll wear his for eternity
wee lad
your popsicle stick sword
your pie tin shield
your best intentions
your noble cause
did you really think
you had a chance in hell
of slaying the beast?
what’s a little blood
between father and son?

the elixir of time is a lie
there is no balm for
a childhood stripped
from its moorings
with such casual cruelty

see the sullen sun
heliograph dully
on the lake of fate
see the dun birds
peregrinate incuriously above
see the reflection on the water
the wee old man
with hollow eyes
and broken soul
see the pulsing stormcloud
brooding, ever-present
on the horizon

the myth of idyllic youth
the hue of quicksilver
and autumn wheat
the clever, cloying scent
of false hope
the raucous, pealing thunder
of sundered souls
the thresher’s flail looms
and you fall before it as chaff
blown from this world
on eldritch zephyrs

within the forest of years
the darkling path
opens before you
and closes behind
in peristaltic spasms
as the trees swallow you
in green silence
this quiet place
devoid of time
a resting place
a tomb of giants
a dying place
for those so inclined
no memories allowed here
nor light nor love nor healing
only darkness
and the furtive murmur
of moon-shadows

you were a boy once
for seven years
now your ethereal form
drifts among
strange nameless constellations
across forgotten eons
you won’t find yourself here
wee lad
that kid is long gone
but you must find something
before all is lost

61 thoughts on ““This World is Yours””

    1. Thanks so much, Peggy. It’s good to lance the wounds now and then. It’s been a stressful few weeks and I suppose I needed to shed some emotional weight for a bit. The act of creation is always cathartic for me, so this piece brought a bit of relief for awhile. Thanks as always for your kind support, my friend. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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    1. Many thanks, my friend. Childhood is rough for many of us, and memories have a nasty way of sticking around like spiders in the corner of the ceiling. Sometimes it’s necessary to sweep away the cobwebs and throw open the windows to let in some fresh air and sunlight. Thanks as always for your kind and in-depth appraisal. I value your support so much. 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

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    1. Thanks so much, David. I’ve been stressing out a little (well, a lot) lately, and needed to catch my breath. I wanted to write something to put some order to the chaos, and to implement dark imagery. I had a specific tone in mind as well. My computer is in the repair shop at the moment so I had to write this by hand, pen and paper. It’s been so long since I wrote anything by hand and I think it contributed to the tone in an unexpected way. I’ve read about other writers and the differences many of them notice when they write “organically” as opposed to using technology, and I do think, at least for me, there’s a difference. I’m posting with my old Nexus 7 tablet, but I think I’ll continue to try writing organically now and then to see what happens. If anything, it certainly slows down the writing process and allows us time to really get inside our poetry in a way technology doesn’t really permit.

      “Transcendent” is such a wonderful compliment and it truly humbled me to read this in your comment. Seriously, thank you, my friend, for your support. You continue to inspire me with your kindness and poetic talents. Much appreciated. 🙂

      Liked by 4 people

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    1. Many thanks, Ashley, for your kindness. It’s a process that continues and progress seems slow to non-existent at times, but I press on. Writing about it helps, and this community is wonderfully supportive. Thanks for stopping by and reading, my friend. I appreciate it. 🙂

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    1. Kindest thanks, Friedrich. I’m so pleased to know this spoke to you. I have the same impression when I view your paintings. Your work is powerful and profound and mysterious and so satisfying to behold. Your constant support is a joy for me, my friend. Thank you so much for being here. 🙂

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    1. Many thanks, my friend. Yes, this is a poem reflecting back on my difficult childhood. So many children suffer because of abusive parents, and those children carry those scars forever. Writing about it helps me come to terms with all that happened all those years ago. Thank you so much for your kind support. I always enjoy your visits here. I hope life is good for you, dear friend. 🙂

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  10. This is heartbreaking, Mike, and the beast is terrible indeed. But there’s also a sense of power and bravery in the wee lad who calls out and faces such a demon, and is still standing. The last two lines struck me as intensely powerful, part of the hero’s journey, the dark night of the soul, when hidden strength is called up. The beast gloats and throws out a challenge, but the wee lad has grown up and He will write the end of this story.

    So that’s what this piece brought up for me. Perhaps I read more into it than you intended. But such if the magic of poetry and storytelling. Amazing writing, as always. You are a wonder. ❤

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    1. Thanks, Diana. I love your take on this piece. After all that’s occurred, I tend to forget that I’m still here and still standing. It seems as though the battle continues to rage at times, a definite result of trauma. I like the idea of the hero’s journey. There’s plenty left to do along my path, but I’m glad to know there are folks who offer support and encouragement along the way. And thank goodness for writing! Words can mend and heal and offer hope. I think wee lad would approve. 🙂

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  11. There’s so much pain in your words. A turbulent childhood is a difficult burden to carry.
    “a treasure trove
    of memories
    a box of hell
    a gift that keeps on giving
    handle these with care
    wee lad
    lest they consume your soul”
    There are so many lines that I could quote as heart-wrenching. I really hope that all is not lost. You have the gift of words. Please find yourself in them. Take care, Mike.

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    1. Many kind thanks, Terveen. As long as I’m still standing, hope remains. I recall the process of kintsugi and how much time and effort is required to mend a simple clay pot, but the end result is beautiful beyond measure.
      Let poetry fill the cracks in my soul. Let me be inspired by the kindness of people like you and others here on WP. Let me accept myself, scars and all, once and for all. Thanks for your support, my friend. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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    1. Thanks so much, Lauren. Writing most definitely helps. I know this sort of thing is difficult for some folks to read, and I understand. Sometimes I need to open the windows and air-out the house, you know? I appreciate your wishes for strength and hope. It’s a long journey but despite the hard times, I know there is much beauty to behold along the way. 🙂

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      1. You’re very welcome, Mike. I think it’s important to “open the windows and air out the house” whether or not you think others will find it difficult to read. And I’m sure many can relate to your pain, as well. You write so beautifully and I’m just sorry that your past involves this much agony. ❤️

        Liked by 1 person

  13. Wow Mike, this is just stunning work. The descriptive vocabulary and distinct imagery adds so much depth to this piece. I absolutely love the title and the unique flow throughout. Amazingly done as always, my friend 🤍🤗

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    1. Thanks a bunch, Grace. As dark and difficult as this subject matter can be, I really do enjoy writing about it as it’s a therapeutic release and a creative elixir. Putting these amorphous thoughts into concrete form gives me a little bit of power over them, as well as perspective. I don’t know where I’d be if I couldn’t write about my journey. Thanks for your kindness, my friend. Much appreciated. 🙂

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    1. Tears threatened when I read this. You’re right: he never knew me at all. I still battle with the things he said to me but the only power he has over me now that he’s gone is that which I allow him to have. There’s plenty of work yet to do, but I’m still here, and that has to mean something, eh? Thanks so much for being here, my friend. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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  16. This is a mighty poem, Mike! The raw, striking imagery is immensely powerful! These lines, in particular, made me stop, and I had to read them twice before I could move on:

    “the elixir of time is a lie
    there is no balm for
    a childhood stripped
    from its moorings
    with such casual cruelty”

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thanks a bunch, Cindy. Yeah. I missed the boat with regards to Gabriela’s anthology. Perhaps someday she’ll publish a follow-up to it and allow lengthier poetry. I always value your kindness and support, my friend. Much appreciated. 🙂

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  18. Mike this piece takes a little bit of my heart with each perfectly manicured line. The giants? So many powerful and provocative thoughts race through my head as I read this. It sounds like you never got any closure, I wonder if anyone does. This sounds so familiar, unbelievable writing. A well of emotions my friend. Thank you for this beautiful piece. It sounds somewhat familiar to me. Blessings and my love dear friend. 🦋🌹

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    1. Kindest thanks, Joni. In a nutshell, you’re correct: I never received any closure. One of the last times I saw my dad, he punched me in the farmhouse kitchen a few months after my mom’s death. I was 51 years old. Two years later, he killed himself. There was no closure for me or my older sister. So, I’m still sorting things out. I write to impose order on all of the chaos of the past. Fortunately, I can write about other things besides him. I’m just doing some hard work at the moment. This stuff is never easy. Thanks for your support and kindness, my friend. It means a lot to me.

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  20. This is such a personal and powerful piece, Mike. I am stunned, almost to silence, having read each of your words with their vivid imagery. Like some of your other readers, I can identify with some of this from my own abusive childhood. It’s painful not to have closure from such painful times. I find I carry my memories around and wear them like a label, although I’m beginning to learn to let go and make peace with these thoughts and unfinished business/experiences through my writing. It is such a tough place for you to be right now, but I’m glad to see from some of your replies to comments that you found your writing to be somewhat cathartic. You are a truly talented writer, my friend. I’ve yet to read finer. Thank you so much for sharing this part of your life and your deep emotions. Take good care of yourself; hugs 💙💜💙

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    1. Thanks so much, Ellie I truly appreciate your kindness. Where would we be without writing? It’s a godsend for those of us who are introverted and quiet by nature. Throughout my twelve years of counseling I’ve learned a lot, but writing helps in ways that talking to others can’t. It’s much more personal and immediate, and there are fewer inhibitions holding me back. Also, writing allows me to deal with painful memories creatively, shaping them into more manageable forms, giving me power over them. Putting those amorphous thoughts into concrete form gives me a different perspective and helps loosen their hold on me. And that provides respite from the past.

      I’m grateful for your support and encouragement. Thanks a bunch for the wonderful compliments with regards to my writing. I’m a big fan of yours and I’m looking forward to exploring more of your blog. Thanks again, my friend! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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  21. Super powerful, and resonate. I’ve been unpacking childhood trauma for five years, and sometimes it feels like it will never end, yet I take solace in all of the healing that has transpired during this time. Amazing poetry, Mike.

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    1. Thanks, Jeff. I, too, seek out the small victories and place them upon my mantle of healing. Each step forward is progress,no matter how little. It’s cumulative, and it keeps the momentum going. You’re an inspiration to me, my friend. Your kindness and peerless talents shine so brightly and provide me with hope that I can find a better place, too. Thanks for being here, Jeff. Your presence makes a wonderful difference. 🙂

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  25. Pingback: REBLOG: ‘This World is Yours’ by Mike L. Utley – The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱

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