Judah Mahay, Author
  • Poems,  Works

    The Eyes May See Differently

    Salt scraped from eyesWhere, oh where are youBorn with brittle sightI think no lessPitted spiritLeft to mournBroken nyeCast the mold of myselfTo make anew without youBut spark no more, glazed the mindMeek no more, the shadow of my moldAlways lined with vile selfOh, tender self wakeWhat I made masters over meBut dawn burns no moreGrinning despairThe smile kills the truthAnimal to myselfI know not where to goAlways it ends in revengeTo whatTo ourselves, foolish childThis convoluted shellBreathe no moreAnd dancing free, kissing lips, joyful tearsPrized as yoursBut now another’sThe mirror of your past liedYou are no more

  • Poems,  Works

    Respite

    We all carry a hope for respiteSuch wishful plightsLet us remember the night We yearnAnon the sightWe look to said yonderAway whence we cameTo houses sterile and newAnd untouch glades, lush, unwalkedOnly to watch Forgone childish play, childish toys Yes, the magic diesWith a sighOur skin crinklesOur eyes narrowOur souls hunched in crumbled bodies Yes, the magic diesTill child we see once moreAnd in the sparkle of their eyesWe either cringeOr know whence we cameAnd laugh the glee of respite and see anon no moreOr live to die anon once more