poem Archives - Page 5 of 6 - Turning the Page on Suicide

Posts Tagged: poem

Dark Side Lightened

Posted January 9, 2020 | Karisa Moore

I benefit from this anguish.
Your judgment that finds faith
lacking. You reveal secrets.
Pull truth from my heart like
a colorful magician’s scarf. I choke
on the hate. Vomit anger, and
bite down on the bitterness of repulsive
slavery. I weep.

And still,
you empty me.

Remember my image to me, the
heart you canvased in my mother’s womb.
Calmed,
Loved,
Purposed.
Brushstroke light, concealed in
despair. Display
a masterpiece through the shadows of my suffering.

Dedicated to the many children who experience abuse.

Finding Sunshine in Despair

Posted December 5, 2019 | Karisa Moore

I search for sunshine among shadows.
And find you, creator of dark and light,
dancing with fireflies under
the spotlight of moon and stars.

Suicide in the Abstract

Posted October 1, 2019 | Karisa Moore

Suicide happens in the abstract.
Thoughts, fears, loss; all pile, unnamed.

Pour concrete into despair
Reveal color, shape, texture, and dimension
and take a sledge hammer to
hopelessness.

Morning Devotion

Posted September 26, 2019 | Karisa Moore

You paint me a new sunrise
in the first breaths of dawn.
I smile as I reach for your love notes.
Quiet. Still. I know you.
I witness your craftsmanship, etched into the
canvas of creation.
I lean into the truth of your stable
character. Faithful.
Your love is on my lips
because you fill my heart
with the joy of presence.

Under The Influence of Resurrection

Posted August 29, 2019 | Karisa Moore

Accused.
I stand amazed,
Your amp
Electrified my soul and
Testified boldly to the audience
That you are indeed the crucified All-Mighty.

Drunk? No.
Under the influence of
Your resurrection I
Cannot help but belt out
My gratefulness. Holy Holy
Is the Lord Almighty.

Saved,
You became my passionate rift of joy,
a bridge that opens eyes to possibility
in the monotony
of daily trials. You are my
chorus to echo experience,
of resurrected life.

(Inspired by Pentecost Acts 1)

Summer Psalmist

Posted July 6, 2019 | Karisa Moore

I stretch out on a blanket, book in hand, bare
feet crisscrossed in meditation while soaking in
summerâ€™s choir. Scripture’s sweet serenade rustles
remembrance of Creator and creation, beneath whispering
willows.

The sopranos and altos chirp from
tree and grass harmonizing as they
exert; while crooning frogs flirt with baritone
bellows, calling for their girl.

Summer’s song invites me into the steady
rhythm of tire swings and popsicle stained, childhood
giggles. Book abandoned, I dangle over river’s edge,
pumping legs in eager anticipation of touching
clouds and releasing cares as I plop into the
cool refreshment of your love.

Painting a Portrait of Depression

Posted May 2, 2019 | Karisa Moore

Depression is a villain
masquerading as hero.
Promising romantic rescue
as he brings poisoned wine
to lips.

Depression pirates your treasure.
burying faith, relationships, desire, work, adventure
beneath the unmovable rock of despair.

He woos souls with thoughtless caress.
â€œIâ€™ll always be here for you.â€
â€œYou donâ€™t need anyone.â€
â€œI am devoted when others divorce you.â€
â€œYou can escape if you want to â€¦ but you
donâ€™t want to.â€

Depression grips with jealous isolation.
Till blood flows thick, and fear penetrates
The last barriers of reality. Â Prying your fingers
away from the ledge of truth. I WANT TO LIVE!

New Life Cup

Posted April 4, 2019 | Karisa Moore

When the cup we pass around
the table
grows cold with doubt’s tears
and our empty souls
keep feasting on the moldy bread of fear–you come.
Pouring new sweet wine, forever bubbling generously
over the sides of our expectations.
and serve fresh bread from the banquet table of your papa, the king.

Valued

Posted March 21, 2019 | Karisa Moore

Allow new breath, though motherhood
aches, and mind screams in the tight squeeze
of despair. Each face, traced anew, is valued
from womb to grave. Every sorrow felt,
a precious jewel, shaped and hardened by the
pressure of both good and bad
experience in my heart. My children,
shimmer in the palm
of a God who loves.