Author: picturesassembledfrommemory

Why are you so far away? 
I said, 
I need you everyday! 

What raging storms have driven you so far into that raging ocean? 

I swam to you to see you, 
pushing around all that water, 
that threatens to drown your heart. 

Why are you so far away? 
we love you everyday, 
slamming doors and raging words, 
still to us, 
we see your face framed in long blond hair, 
running down the street to meet me on my walk. 

Why are you so far away? 
I want you close everyday, 
just to see you smile, 
to laugh through smiling eyes, 
just open up your eyes. 

There has never been a day, 
when anything has made me love you less, 
but I awoke one day and you were gone, 
so far away from yesterday, 
maybe even tomorrow, 
all around inside my head, 
I miss you all the time. 

I wonder if God answered my prayers just to abandon me to despair? 
Has God had enough of me and left me alone in the wilderness to die? 


He is God and he can do as he pleases.
He does not have to answer to me, 
I wither away as this dry wind and the silence that comes from her, 
those non moving lips and that closed door that never opens. 

Only now have I come to question the reasoning for all this, 
He cannot have led me here for this to be the end? 

From the highest high, 
to the lowest low, 
were to begin, 
to make sense of this?


Heavy mind, 
torn heart, 
torn between wanting to be close to her, 
and not being able to reach her, 
no one cares, 
no one knows, 
everyone wants to jump in and fix, 
I need empathy and compassion, 
so lacking for me but demanded from all else, 
not one freind in my heavy heart, 
only the empty walls of my heart, 
blackened by sadness, 
grief and desperation, 
rainy skies, 
quiet solitude, 
no remedy for relief, 
only this grief and a profound awareness of Divine testing that never seems to end.

Prefaced by this divine Litany of grief, 
all these whys and hows, 
related this divine understanding that eludes me, 
becoming dry kindling and chaff that is burned and mixed into dry ground.

I still want you, everyday to be my daughter, 
I will always ask, 
why are you so far away? 


T. S. Deary 
3/16/24

If ever spilled blood, '
it would be my own, 
running down my arms, 
staiing my shirt and pants, 
collecting in pools on the floor, 
punishment for my sins.

What a mess! 
He was always so neat...look at him now...

Then there would be nothing left, 
nothing to be looked at as beautiful. 

He was never terribly remarkable anyway...

No great loss on that day, 
since there was no greatness anyway.

Carrying razor blades, 
always with bottles of cheap wine, 
lots of cheap wine, 
leaving behind inhibitions, 
building the rage, 
flowing in my veins, 
(that unmanageable rage) 
never been controlled, 
never been shown to have a rational origin. 

Look around and relaize how crazy things can be. 
Look around and listen to all this nonsense given out for free...

Now think of sitting calmly, 
without shaking hands, 
still there is the noise that no one else can hear, 
listen to the thoughts, 
and always fail to comprehend why, 
no one else feels like you do, 
and of how the smallest vibrations, 
in those nuerons, 
get turned on and off, 
by the smallest stimulus, 
like the way the wind blows, 
and then hear how some would say and others remark that he is just to sensitive. 

T.S. Deary 
11/8 - 12/11/23 

Pilate hated Passover time, 
too many people with pent up rage, 
tension filled the air, 
making the city a powder keg, 
all that was needed was one spark, 
all of this liberation, like tinder, would ignite the people. 

And now, 
there was this strange man, 
accused of sedition, 
No, No, I do not want to get involved. 

Pilate! If he were not a criminal, we would not have brought him to you..." 

No! If he were not a pawn in one of Caiphas's games, then you would not have brought him here to play.

The tension was high, 
so many accusations, 
but, Jesus, did not speak, 
Pilate was impressed by his fortitude, 
and his quiet sincerity, 
so much dignity, 
despite the beating he had already recieved. 

Pilate wondered, Do they always punish their prisoners before they are judged?

This man is more than the usual trouble, 
more than another trouble maker, 
he is a giver, not a taker, 
this tension is going to burst like a bubble, 
this man is no criminal, 
he is a dreamer, 
his message is heart heavy, subliminal, 
No, he is not some malignant schemer. 

(still he has nothing to say...) 

Speak, defend yourself, don't you realize that I have the power to release you or to have yopup crucified? 

(still no answer...) 

Finally, he raised his eyes to me and said - "You have nothing in your hands...All is fixed and cannot be changed..." 

He doesn't seem to care if he lives or dies, 
this mob is my concern, 
they can make my life worse by degrees...

(what is one man...for the rest of us?) 

He is bent on self destruction, 
a puppet, 
a wannabe martyr, 

"We just need him crucified..." 

"I have made my decision, let him die, it is what he wants after all, I wash my hands of this twisted game. I wash my hands of his borrowed fame, I wash my hands of his self destruction, take it upon yourselves, you, be the architects of his false construction."

They led Jesus away, 
alone and abandoned. 

T.S. Deary 
2/5/24

I saw her,
her heart in pieces, 
her eyes filling with tears. 

I told her i loved her, 
and that she could, '
at any time, 
rely on me to dry her eyes, 
and make, 
her smile again. 

She tried to hold them back, 
made an effort to smile, 
even letting me hug her in front of her freinds. 

It brought me back to a time now long past, 
when all I wanted was to understand, 
the bterayal of my own heart, 
at the crooked hands of those I thought I could trust, 
and never recieving, 
even a kind word, 
or understanding, 
as if the universe, 
had turned its back on me, 
with crooked fingers pointing out, 
my misfortune. 

In her tears there were a thousand questions, 
most of which, 
I could not answer, 
to her staisfaction, 
and in that moment, 
I would have tried anything, 
to help, 
even to take her tears into my own eyes, 
so she would smile again. 

T. S. Deary 
2/9/24 

Am I boring you?

yes, you, young lady, with your face buried in your phone. 
digital screen queen, 
head all empty and you don't care. 
Am I interrupting you and that digital courtship with the man of your dreams, 
please forgive me for interrupting the High School experience with a book. 

Just in case you did not know there are millions of things that have happened before you were here. 
There have been millions of people here before you. 
They too had passions beyond sneakers and a fancy phone. 

There is more to the world than digital interaction, 
far be it from me to expect any kind of civil interconnection. 

Are these misunderstandings only generational?
Or, 
is it just your inability to be realtional? 

I can't help but notice how much goes right by you, 
indeed, right under your nose, 
how the world spins and you stay right where you are, 
unaware, 
unable to see, 
quiet in the face of dealy riots, 
unaware, even of why we exist.

Them, with their heads all empty and their lips so full, 
carefully avoiding any push and pull. 

Heads all empty, 
eyes that stare at nothing, 
wanting everything, 
giving nothing, 
bubbling in tests, 
no one learning anything, 
asking stupid questions, 
never getting answers, 
heads all empty, 
mouths full of gossip, 
with pointed words, 
shot like arrows that land on soft spots and broken hearts, 
beating hearts and shiny eyes, 
that look to a bland future, 
all the time unaware of what will be coming their way, 
made harder and harder, 
documented by full lip selfies, 
painted and see with unseeing eyes. 

Unseeing eyes, 
empty heads, 
full lips, 
and muffled cries. 

T. S. Deary 
2/9/24

I can now say, 
he was right, 
way more often than I was, 
and that even when, 
there was no lower to go, 
he always lifted me up, 
when it would have been easier to leave me where I was. 

My favorite sin was to push him away, 
to try to see how far I could go, 
to disrespect the one so undeserving, 
and them crawl back for more. 

Then came the times of estrangement,
crazy times, 
less than honest reflections, 
taking medication, 
rejecting talking therapy.

Driving, 
driving with no ambition, 
except for the time spent, 
looking for a quiet space, 
to kill myself, 
maybe a tree, 
maybe a quiet patch of woods, 
on a windy night, 
to cut my veins, 
by the bright light of the moon, 
till the drinks wear off, 
and I lose my nerve.

These sins of the flesh, 
of course, 
have brought me down, 
down farther and farther, 
than any I have ever known, 
my soul, 
plumged into darkness, 
a darkness, not known, 
before or since, 
darkest nights, 
and the glamour of evil, 
resting only long enough, 
to catch its breath
so as to push me, 
further and harder, 
towards the far horizon, 
away from tenderness, 
into fire and heavy breathing.

Now pay homage to the secular confession, 
small office, 
well dressed doctor, 
the lamentations of all my psychic groaning.

All my favorite sins are on the menu, 
confessed, 
and chalked up to some brain malfunction, 
that is inexplicable, 
only to return to vice, 
not having learned a thing. 
all locked away in an iron cast, 
of anxiety and depression, 
with no one understanding, 
no one caring, 
no one reaching, 
no one trying,
no one talking, 
no one inviting, 
and with nothing to celebrate, 
the dying times that came and went, 
and hardened hearts that beat, skipping the parts they don't like, 
feeding on broken understanding, 
but still having just enough to make a point, 
that will always be ignored. 

Getting anxious, 
nervous, 
at all times covered up by alcohol, 
and weed, 
a lost year, 
of broken, 
hearts and never again, 
to be understood, 
taken and stolen, 
dignity removed, 
ugly whores and unpleasant dreams, 
who ever asked for this? 
all had gone from me, 
to selfish to realize, 
to proud to beg, 
just keep drinking, 
as life comes and goes, 
born and born again, 
into an endless night, 
a lack of progress, 
and deepening despair. 

The night has teeth and they gnash my flesh, 
pulling the desire to live from my soul, 
leading me to walk lonely streets, 
contemplating taking a jump from the bridge down by the waterfall, 
to sweep me away, 
in a suicidal baptism of water and blood, 
far away from the altar of the holy church, 
where I was baptized, 
and am now fallen dead in my sin. 

T. S. Deary 
11/6 - 12/11/23

 

I live with each foot in different worlds, 
one in one the other in another, 
blessed beyond all belief, 
father of two daughters, 
I wear a crown and they are the jewels, 
having a son, 
the Lord has favored me in all ways, 
all i ever asked for he has given me and more. 

There are twists in the fabric of time, 
they are confusing and they leave me puzzled, 
i have become locked out of their lives and replaced by things that they need more than me, 
disregarded in favor of adolescent fads and them wanting to do things for themsleves.

Please mind your own business, 
stay out of it please, 
do you think I care what you think? 
Do you think that you have anything to say that I need to know? 

These twists in the fabric of time, 
leaving me in constant despair, 
spending to much time trying to smooth out the wrinkles, 
left behind, 
now my hands are worn out from the constant motion of trying to get your attention, 
my voice is hoarse from calling your name over and over again. 

(I still wear the crown with your jewels upon my head...)

I don't seek a pedestal, 
a place for statues to look down, 
I am no sculpted hero, 
I am no actor, pretending on a stage, 
but I do put my thoughts down on the page, 
these twists, 
full of change and despair, 
sleepless nights, 
constant push and pull. 

T.S. Deary 
5/23-2/24 

Young woman you are the apple of my eye, 
were I too wear a crown, you would be the biggest gem of all.
To lose your affection has been, the biggest, longest fall, 
In knowing you, and in you having my name, I have stood the tallest of all, flying high.

You, daughter, are the apple of my eye, 
in my crown, you are the biggest, brightest gem, 
You are the brightest, wildflower, petals and I am the stem.
Like those grown on a mountain meadow, glorious, alpine, high. 

Always, looking to you, to catch a glimpse of your smile and to watch you fly, 
I've lovedyou always, from birth, to when you could only crawl. 
I am saddened and overwhelmed by these sudden, verbal breaks. 
They leave me alone and sad, a quiet sigh. 

You are growing up to fast for my taste.
Slipping away from the tennous hold I have on your heart.
Having you is a blessing, never a time to part.
I just wish I could bottle up some of this time to remember and not feel pressure to let go with such haste. 
Time is the ongoing force, taking you from me and sending these awful lessons as if the universe threw new a pointy dart, 
for me to catch these overwhelming sudden breaks. 

T.S. Deary 
2/2/24

That night was thoroughly dark, 
the garden was quiet when he and the eleven men arrived, 
they were tired, 
He, the leader, was in great distress, 
he addressed them, saying, 

"I feel bad enough to die rigth now." 

Then, three, with HIm went a little further with him, 
remarking to themselves about how distressed he was.

"Wait and pray, the hour is dark and evil is all around us." 

He fell to his knees, then face down into the ground, 
praying to God he said, 

"Father, your will, not mine be done..." 

His distress was increasing and their understanding was decreasing, this time, now, was the time to sow the seeds of doubt and despair...

"Let me introduce myself...." 

"Do you really believe?...Where is your God now?...Have you considered the cost of all this?...This burden is much to heavy...Never..." 

Again, His desperation rising, He Prayed..."Your will be done, in you I trust..." 

The darkness became even more profound and deep, 
rising He went to his freinds, 
He went to his freinds, 
He found them asleep, 
they had no answer.

Then, knowing the time had was at hand,
willingly accepted his fate, 
they all abadoned him and fled.

The night closed in on all of them. 

T.S. Deary 
12/23 - 2/24  

Today, 
I saw, 
in your eyes, 
your world fall down, 
around you. 

Without explanation, 
the people you thought, 
you could rely on, 
turned away, 
leaving you alone, 
and crushed, 
with a sadness, 
I have never known in you.

I wanted in that moment, 
to remind you, 
of gorgeous you are, 
when you dance, 
and of how your hair, 
is formed, 
to a perfect ballerina style, 
and how,
you can jump, 
and leap, 
and find the pulse, 
of the rhythym, 
that makes you move, 
and smile, 
and how happy,
that makes, 
me too see, 
and I just, 
want you to know, 
that this, 
broken feeling will not be there forever, 
and soon, 
you will dance, 
when the time is right. 

T.S. Deary 
1/25/24