Collage Poem by Claudia Krizay

Rain is falling and I hear more than I care to- while I am
Seated upon the floor, tearing paper to pieces-
Randomly pasting beside cut outs onto cardboard,
Zebras and kangaroos are hiding
Behind a group of ballerinas while
Two Kenyan woman are quantum jumping?
Irish church towers casting shadows
Upon a garden of daffodils and
Eyes are everywhere, staring from the paper
Into my own eyes- trying to understand me-
Rain is falling upon the rooftop and I hear voices singing death dirges,
Tragic tunes from which there are no escaping.
Magazine cutouts and torn newspaper pieces I glue randomly onto cardboard-
My thoughts are running wild as a caged raccoon.
Through my eyes I see a world out there beyond comprehension
As rain splashes rhythmically upon the sidewalk outside,
Voices inside my mind threaten ill fate, while
The light that once shone upon sallow colored walls has just burnt out.
All I can see now is that piece of cardboard with
Cut out and torn pictures and writing pasted in total disarray-
I paint bright colors over them, trying to demolish all of the pain they represent-
But no amount of paint would obliterate the anger that is ripping at my gut.
I was born with a face that is clear of expression and a body that has been well cared for-
But if one were to open the door to my mind they would find much anger and despair-
Eyes are all about me looking into mine and I cannot escape-
The rain is falling harder now and I keep tearing paper-
Shadows are cast upon yellowed walls and I keep painting torn paper and images.
My thoughts are screaming to be released-
More than those of zebras and kangaroos hiding behind ballerinas dancing-
Or of Kenyan women quantum jumping- or even more than
The clashing pieces of paper and magazine pictures could ever express-
I am falling, falling and falling into a trap- and
There is no outlet for me from which to escape from this delusional world
As so many have called it and I just continue painting bright colors onto cardboard and
Pasting photographs and torn newspaper hoping that one morning
When I awaken and open my eyes there will be
Beautiful pictures upon freshly painted walls-
Pictures that have a theme and a purpose: Then the rain will have stopped falling and
My eyes shall be opened to a world I can understand, the door to my mind
Shall opened as well, so my thoughts can be released to a world that
With all hope can finally understand me-