©2018 B.Clary


It flows like water,

Slowly causing strife

An unstoppable power,

Corroding Earth and life

Untrodden path is taken,

one prays that it is right.

That one has not mistaken,

longing wants for plight. 

Uncertain steps in darkness,

as light it fades away.

The pendulum sways swiftly now

with every passing day

Gives nothing to cling on to,

as childhood is a blur

And every waking hour in adolescence is obscured.

When you reach adult hood and wonder where it went

There is no restoration of the little time that we are lent.

© 2018 B. Clary

Imprisoned Mind

Composition comes in the still of the night.

The silence beckons to my thoughts and all its trappings.
A clear mind working without interruption,
I bask in pure solitude, and revel in self contemplation.
Welcoming the crisp nothing that surrounds me, I
can finally breathe.

No longer suffocating, words flow freely
No longer bound, they make their escape

Just pieces of me, simple and complex all at once
Just moments of peace and reckless scrutiny

A small space to escape into my world 
A place where only my thoughts reside

O, if time would stand still for a moment
If night would creep in slowly and stay by my side
If light were not required to swallow it wholly
What enchantment would flee this imprisoned mind?


You Don’t Know Me

© 2008 B. Clary

You don’t love me; Infatuate
You kind of like what you can’t hate.

I make you crazy; Asinine
My hips curvaceous, lips divine.

You don’t know me; Brilliant
How strong I am, resilient.

I make you laugh; Hilarious
My unmatched wit, precarious.

You want to touch; Forbidden
I am mysteriously hidden.

You want to keep me; Possession
I am but an obsession.

You can’t have me; Property
Can’t handle my ferocity.

I’ll walk away, take a good look
That ends your chapter in my book

– Clary

Paint All of Your Secrets

Copyright 2018 Clary

Can I paint all of your secrets with a waterfall of words?

As you open every window screaming to be heard

As I pull apart the pieces of your badly mangled heart

As I separate the tangled strands that tell me who you are.

Can I wash out all the shades of purple, blue, and red?

Or the tear stained pillows, which lay upon your bed

Let me steal the quiet whispers of my undeserving name

The ones often escaping those lips I’ll never claim

I tore away my portion o f your tapestry of life

Leaving dangling threads and unwanted strife

Unspoken anguish seeps, through you like the rain

Flowing like a poison, running through your veins

You despise the longing feelings that I left upon your skin

The ones there to remind you where my hands and lips have been

So, you couldn’t make me happy and love wasn’t enough,

To fill this void inside of me, to fill my empty cup.

Can I paint all of your secrets with a waterfall of words?

As I regret mistakes I’ve made and all I’ve left unheard

As I walk away and leave you with your badly mangled heart

As I turn my back on everything forsaking who you are.


Erroneous Feelings

Erroneous feelings
Confusion, not grief
Just mixed up what would be’s
Wrapped in disbelief

Chaotic day spinning
Around me again
A mix of emotions
Not sure where or when

My head here is pounding
Underneath my skull
Not sure how I get through
The thick of it all

Children now sleep
Comfortably in their beds
No worry, no danger
Just dreams in their heads

We long to be children
They long to be grown
So many questions
All answers unknown

Can’t quiet the voices
Perpetually droning
Can’t stop the writing
Ink keeps on flowing


Cement Bed

I keep you tucked away in dark corners of my mind because sometimes feeling becomes too much. It clings and hovers around me, weighing me down. A cement slab.

I sleep there sometimes

After all it’s what I deserve. The light is an unwelcome guest permeating my lids. I crack them open only to wince and close them tightly again.

I live there sometimes

My bed made of stone and cement, losing all perception of time. Squandering it away in a prison with unlocked doors.

I long for it  sometimes

Accepting every evil expelled upon me in that bed. I willingly bound myself to it. A craving to just be wanted, just feel something.

I loathe it sometimes

Half a lifetime to realize I alone was to blame , and I have no recollection of when it came to be. I only know that when the time came I was finished doing what I was told.

I opened my eyes., I loosened the ropes, and let the light in.

– Clary

Written Word

Words seem to scurry from crowded corners of my mind.
From there, to pen, to paper, tearing their way outside.

Scribbling themselves in harmony, across an empty page.
Showing no discrimination, no matter creed, gender, or age.

Telling tales of wars long past, present tales of love denied.
Emanating with emotions, all humanity is assigned.

Seducing us with eloquence, capturing descriptive bliss.
Tainting us with reality, assuring us happiness.

Abrading us with politics, causing loss of time.
Essays, prose and sonnets, and every word that rhymes.

Words, they have no borders, no bond can bind or chain.
No man can stop their presence, and no law that can constrain.

Yes, we are all partakers, of the written word,
Words that scurry quickly, in a frenzy to be heard                                                                        – — Clary

When Women “Sleep”

Night falls and sleep cant find me again. A dim glow from the bathroom seeps through the cracked door. My husband let’s out a low, rattling snore, physically sated for tonight. I adjust my pillow under my head, hoping it’ll be enough to beckon slumber to lie down by my side. It isn’t, and she doesn’t, the selfish bitch. My mind reels. Was nice finally having some time with my husband. It’d been awhile. Crap, what if he doesn’t really want me anymore? I have put on a few pounds. I’m pretty disgusting to myself. I mean I wouldn’t fuck me would I? I really need to find a day job. What if no one wants to hire me? Need to remember to buy Jay shoes. I cant believe I forgot to buy him shoes. I think E’s shoes might also be too tight. Ugh! I’m such a bad mom! Oh crap mom! Did I forget to take her to her appointment or is that next week? Water bill is due tomorrow. Hope there’s enough to cover that and groceries. Oh no, did I pay the light bill this month? The dogs really need to go to the vet. Shit, forgot to put the clothes in the dryer! Can’t remember if I locked the front door. Please mind just shut the eff up! Holy hell, now I have to pee. Sigh

-©2018 B. Clary



I forget myself sometimes.

Forget that I am not just a mom, a wife, a sister, or a daughter.
I’m not just the referee of remotes, the apology police, or the kisser of boo-boos.

I am me.

I’m not just the cooker of meals, the cleaner of snotty noses and sticky fingers, the fixer of broken hearts, or resuscitator of gold-fish.

I am me.

I’m not just the chauffeur to the party, the stroker of egos, or the knocker down of high horses.

I am me.

The real me is reading books, writing stories, making art, and planting gardens.

The real me prefers the company of animals over people, and being outdoors over the four walls I find myself surrounded by too often.

Yet, somewhere jumbled in all the labels, I forget myself. I lose myself in what has to be done, what needs to be said, and how those things will get that way. And, I just forget…

to be ME.

– B. Clary