| LOVE thunder rumbles in the darkened sky, resonating loudly in the silence between us. two separate worlds meet before the storm: the heat builds. our heartbeats quicken. off in the distance, the songbirds cry. their warnings are lost in the powerful motion. you speak to me; i do not hear you. your voice is lost to the rhythm of thunder. your lip-synch ends with a tilted smile; a glitter in your eyes rivals even the lightning. it's gone too far now: the storm has to break. what is this power? it lingers still! unbearable, electric tension the storm bears down on us and pushes me, changes me. driven closer, you finally whisper and the rain breaks. in the ensuing pandemonium, our eyes meet and separate. the sky falls between us and i seem to breathe again. and then i wonder: did i love you? DISPARITY as you wait for him you build fake sunsets make sentimental love to your make-up kit cut out stars and pin them on your wall make shadows sparkle with romantic words you promise yourself you won't wait anymore yet the night's rich altar bleeds only for him. SCOTLAND lying here in the darkening twilight the golden wheat ripples endlessly around me my heart is crying with the birds above heralding the coming of night. was this peace? my eyes are sad; i hunger for something i cannot understand. i sense it was lost here, though i know not how i watch the great birds flocking toward the east. what is they seek, lying just beyond the darkness? night approaches; the wind is alone. i close my eyes to unchanging nothingness open them again to the field that remains does it desecrate this place, to set foot on the earth as a child, and nothing more? no one has sang here for hundreds of years their words cut off in screams of terror yet i hear them echoing gently around me whispering of promises not yet kept winter is coming gently and steadily the birds flock to the east. it is time to leave, before the falling of night, but i still sit and wonder why it had to end this way. TOYOTA i'm 16 and i have a radio that plays my songs in the middle of the night. i always sleep hard - dream fast - think loud; but i still suspect lyrics are murmured to my pillow. the alarm clock interrupts dreams of a car pretty but rusted from waiting in the rain wouldn't it be nice to have a creature of my own that could take me miles away? i don't mind if the headlights don't work i can see very well in the dark what if i crash? i won't need the a.c. to cool my head look, i know what i'm doing i dance with the boys but they don't even know it we've forgotten the meanings of smiles and winks we want to save the world but we don't know how and we just don't care because it won't let go i'm 16 and i have a radio that sells me cars in the middle of the night. i want a thing of freedom - is that too much to ask? we all die eventually, anyway. A GUN I'VE NEVER USED BEFORE i am walking patiently through a garden without walls. my hands hold a gun i have never used before. the pretty birds sing (they do not understand) so close to me in the distance. it's hard to hear them through miles of glass where echoes fade away. i am not alone here as the people stride by; some carry guns, others carry children. they walk with their hearts in their pockets 'til a better time and they are not safe here but they feign it well. they told me once there existed a smoke which was soft and distant and white and they said that it came from a pure blue sky, but they are old and they know no better. their eyes are numb from what they have seen and their steps are carefully measured. there is barbwire in this maze. it has cut no one but it waits there still. it reminds us of home; we do not stop to touch it. a man beside me asks, "Are you ready?" "Yes," i reply, though i tremble in fear. "it is your duty. do as you must." the man keeps walking and his eyes are shadowed; i am far too young for this. no one hears me or comes to my aid because of the silence they're trying to keep, and i am walking patiently in the garden of war and there's a gun in my hands i have never used before. TO DRACO what is there that we cannot do? we run towards eternity, laughing, stumbling, racing to the edge of this tilted planet; throw cares away with the dawning of spring sing dreams to the analyzed radio. have we done this before in another time? was there another before here before now? lazy days, heavy music, cadenced to the firefly; sheepish girls with flowers in their hair stealing from the medians of very busy streets. did we have a plan? i've forgotten it now we follow the sun as it warms our faces; and pondering the meaning of dewdrops and warheads we crisscross the future with paint-stained hands. THE DIFFERENCE i am awoken by golden sunlight dripping richly down my window. as it freezes into frigid diamonds in the austere reflection of my pure bright mirror it dusts me in glittering shards of light traveling aeons to reach me. as i open my eyes, i wonder what it's like to spend a half-life searching for that which is not; and the path seems useless before the depthless mirror yet the mirror so weak in the dancing sun. caught in between this contradiction i sense within an eternity. perhaps this is memory: to exist in persuasion to be when you will but not when you were. i focus on the sparkling phantasms of mirrorlight which dare to claim they exist-- and i know they are only reflections of sun frozen within for they hold no substance. i gaze at the sunlight that lingers above easy and glowing with the confidence of dawn and i see that fire before that ice but one does not melt and the other won't quench. suddenly i remember the memory of memory and it is not real though beguiling it is; so i touch the mirror, and i gaze at the sun, and i am startled to find myself. A SONG FOR CAIN as the wind gently stirs my hair i stand looking over the city skyline thousands of lights glittering below and i close my eyes, remembering you. how beautiful is this sunset painted orange and purple across the sky; i watch it fade to darkness like your love did and i'm sorry. i wish you knew... running a hand through my wild hair i remember the softness of your touch i'm sorry you don't live here anymore but i stand atop this building all the same. my heart is heavy with loss as my eyes span the endless horizon. a lone gull cries, lost over the shimmering waves just beyond the lights of the city but no one hears it amidst their happy homes; i alone walk the streets at this late, faded hour. i know you won't be coming back but my hands tremble for i cannot stop waiting for you. i'm sorry i never told you. memories flood me like the gentle wind invoking the same shivers with a hesitant joy all these times we shared when you were all i wanted to be; how can i stop this soft, sad smile? even then i adored you unaware until i lost you. i'm sorry but i'm not sure why. i turn to go in the deepening shadows sighing once softly, thus torn and confused. how was it something so powerful as love blazed in my blood and then fled with the dusk? i hear your song on a distant radio from an open window below i'm sure they want me to leave this place but i'm sorry i cannot go. did you ever know my deepest secret? i walk slowly down the spiralling stairs toward the cloudless sky fading fast over the ocean the wind urges me as the moon rises but i pause just once to look over my shoulder. the gentle breeze carresses my tears away and it smells like you; i am sorry. i walk away slowly towards the distant beach toward a life without you where my secrets are strangers and my heart still tears when i hear that gull keening for someone like you. there is nothing i can do; you are gone now. i close my eyes. can i ever forget what happened here? i only wanted a chance to say goodbye to tell you before you left this life that i loved you and i'm sorry; that i loved you and i'm sorry but the chance was washed away at sea and now i stand alone. shrugging off the evening cold of a darkened summer twilight, i shift my hands into my pockets and gaze once more at the apartment you graced. then i turn and head back home; i am sorry. perhaps it is best this way A COMMENT ON SOCIETY: The beautiful young man strode purposefully through the forest without a mission. He was respectably silent and he moved with a cat-like grace but despite all the twigs he missed the leaves rustled still and betrayed his careful presence. His eyes were dark, taking all in and giving nothing back, but the result was a warm knowledge of all things and of nothing. He was young, this old, old man. He took the time to hear the birds sing. A hundred - a thousand! - a myriad of voices lifted hymns to the leaf-covered sky. The noise was crying, trembling, joyful, a harmonic discord of peace; he smiled and hummed to himself a song he had never heard before. The man brushed curled chestnut hair aside from his merciless face, but A softness of sympathy played across his lips when he came across the dying bird. It was helpless and golden lying upon the ground Crying in pained frustration. The serenity of the forest breeze rustled the leaves and the man stood there long and long, Staring. The man knew all he could of the bird. The bird knew all he desired of the man. Together they waited in the warm dappled sunlight, Yet the man walked on. And the bird died, Singing with beautiful envy. WARM LIT WINDOWS i remember warm lit windows. small golden flames painting windows amber warm liquid light warding bitter ice dancing eternally dripping from stars: i remember warm lit windows. i remember big red doors. sturdy and patient: gatekeepers of eden they always guarded warm lit windows from hate and the dark: home. i remember two bright lanterns and a hallway of whispers. echoed soft murmurs held secrets from snow bathed in gentle light. yes, i remember warm lit windows and a place my heart rejoiced i remember a home: a calm in the storm. flickering, lit windows warmed a child within singing and merry; adored. i remember warm lit windows even though they weren't my windows even though it was not me i will always remember golden light and warm lit windows: never meant for me. INSTINCTS OF MOONLIGHT This birdsong, it is so sweet! It strikes a chord deep within me and I respond Star to star, moon to moon, song to song, I respond And as these silver tears fall So does night And the moon understands The moon understands it all as she watches, my gracious nocturnal mother The radiance of the dark resounds within my soul and I respond I respond There is the echo of the something and the nothing in my mind I can hear the breaths of every tiny life around me Collectively They make up the perfect stillness of Midsummer's night, oh how perfect! Perfection is something so common Mankind does not believe in it This simple knowledge shakes me The starlight rocks my world and I respond I respond These words mingle with tears, pouring from depths I never knew existed In all of this there is a meaning A meaning which Mankind has called life This warm summer night is spilled with silver My tears of awe at this beauty are the same colour as the moonlight Or is the moonlight the same colour as these instincts that respond To the simple call of the nightingale? The infinity of all the galaxies is nothing There is no mystery now There is only the clarity that I know That responds To the soft chirruping of crickets Can you hear it? It is the echo of the vibrancy of life. THEY USED TO TELL ME FAERIETALES they used to tell me of a land where the moon lived a thousand miles toward the northern dusk. they told me that there great bonfires shown to spangle the hillsides and rivals the stars. around each of these the children danced as echoes of our own mortal yearnings; and they sang in a voice made wild a free in a land where the moon never set. they used to tell me of land where the sun dwelt a thousand miles past the southern dawn. they told me how golden the wheat fields swayed endlessly rippling in the warm, thick breeze. people there would harvest great pumpkins and squashes and the foliage was painted in bronze; and every tree there was decked in white ribbons tied tight with the dreams of the young. they used to tell me of a place where the ice dwelt crystal and perfect in its austere beauty; but by this time i tired of gibberish talk and i shrugged them away to live life on my own. carrying on, the road was so painful.. for i was so proud all alone. they used to tell me of faerietales, but they won't now: they've all gone away. as the autumn wheel turned their hearts grew heavy with umber and oak leaf and stone. standing alone in this nexus of grey, i gaze at their stones in my memory. was i too proud to shrug them away: is this lack of faith really my freedom? my heart grows heavy as i gaze in silence at the clarion leaf in my palms. they used to tell me faerietales but i left them instead to crawl on. they used to tell me their faerietales gay, but they won't now; they've all gone away... what profound memory stirs at my heart? i close my eyes before remembered faces. the sun gently kisses my sea-given tears as i lift my eyes to the golden twilight. they used to tell me faerietales; but they won't now because they are gone. they used to tell me faerietales but they shall not wake from these beds; they used to tell me faerietales but i swear that these stories aren't dead. ANONYMITY The eyes of a hundred strangers stare at the screen On which I pour my soul I reveal my deepest secrets But that's okay Because I'm a stranger Just like you Just like them I don't care how much candy you have You can't take away these thoughts I am the Anonymous Alone in a crowd of yous Lonely but surrounded I stick out But so do you You don't notice me What are you looking at? Just another girl on a crowded earth I am lonely yet surrounded Remember sunshine Undisturbed Typically I stand there Draw my gun Anonymously I'm a hunter, can't you see? I've captured Anonymity THE MAN I WISH I'D MET the rain drips off his soaking black hair but he doesn't seem to heed it. his green eyes watch the sky with patience, alone on a balmy summer eve. i watch him, though he doesn't know he thinks himself alone it's odd, my curving train of thoughts - he's lying in the tracks. i do not think he sees me, but i watch him. his lovely face serene the pressure of the storm builds and breaks before us both. my heart is stolen by that man but i voice no word. i consider telling him i'm there just to win a perfect smile. many years later, i pause to reflect he had the most beautiful, calm green eyes and perhaps if the lightning hadn't taken his life i could still be lost inside them. A CRY FOR HELP a tear for every man forged in the depths of battle. a cry for his heart- turned to stone- to match the graves of companions. so young to die; so old to live! machine-gun hearts and barbwire minds; a tear for every man who lost his innocence to hope. a tear for every man who ever fell prey to the truth; a knowledge beyond faithful, cynical and biting- being lied to, lying back... hunting truth in every lie. if you twist a mind, do you have it still? a tear for every man who lived his life in fear. a tear for every man who lived his life for others. the cancer of self-depreciation; the bitter, hungry knowledge; a cry for he who looked after the other. a tear for the man not looked after himself. a plead to every man who ever read this poem. a promise, simply, to remember what was done here, to see what was shown here and to know what has passed here. a tear, falling, for the man who reads this and passes along without hunger for change. MINDS LIKE BARBWIRE some people have minds like barbwire; cold stubborn metal painstakingly twisted; ever designed to keep people out, the rain falls and they rust. VAMPIRE Sensual Hot Motion Touching Soft Skin Bright eyes Dark thoughts Dreams and lies Shadows Mystery Sweet Soft caress Lips kissing neck Hot Fiery Sting Laughter Soft skin Gentle touch Whispered promise, Falling, falling... Darkness THE FUTURE'S FORGOTTEN YOU To ye who believe this Prophecy is yours: chasing stars with high-way cars you just aren�t fast enough the neon lights are glaring bright the concrete streets are rough you sell your mem�ries on the corner and you don�t know who you are and everyone dances much too fast for your stalling sentiment car the drugs are fast, but life is faster the city night�s too hot you find yourself alone with night the only friend you�ve got you play and lose your games of chance you can�t keep up, we play too fast there�s sirens scratching at your door you�ll finish this race � last. SHE SAID, "ARE YOU HAPPY?" i remember sitting beside him and gazing at the depthless ocean silent with unspoken dreams and warm with intertwined visions the trembling sea stole our breath away hungry and yearning for a chance in the stars even life must fade away; but the turning of the tides stays loyal to the moon and the sun sets behind our backs. i remember the shining of the tears in his eyes. "are you happy?" i asked him, soft of voice, and "yes," he said; silence. the moon pulled him away to the edge of the earth far, far away from the powerful sea; and as the new day dawned we walked separate paths on the spiraling staircase of time. dreams would come of him and the sea and the hunger within us that could not be fulfilled. how the sea did embrace us with tears! not of sorrow, but fhat lost beyond comprehension. i wrote him often. "are you happy?" i asked him. "yes," he replied; "i love you," I said. i did not know my loss. it was warm on that Midsummer's Night when we reunited at dusk; and the ocean lured us close to strain sand in our hands like the hourglass spilling its life. it seemed time ceased when he kissed my lips and offered a prayer to the moon; then he turned and ran into the depthless waves swimming as far as he could my eyes filled with tears at the beauty of the soul i saw departing before my eyes "i love you," he whispered: and it was carried to me by the gentle whispers of wind. watching him go, i did nothing nor move for a soft understanding I knew the tears in his eyes for the dream unfilled the longing for part of this thing; he was now kissed away by his own true love, the first love he knew: the sea. how gently he died, sinking slowly beneath a serene smile lit on his beautiful face a tear fell for me, crystal and frozen "i am home," came his words "i am home." how sudden i felt in that instant of loss his wish to be part of the sea! the freedom and joy of his one true wish to be granted in sacrificed love. i was flooded that night with the enternal moon, for he died so happy and free... i turned to go back home. pausing suddenly, a hesitation where was my home? where was i from? closing my eyes i suddenly knew it was here at the crossroads of time. i felt his presence and lifted my eyes but it was not he who stood before me. a child regarded me with silent brown eyes and asked me: "miss, what's the matter?" she touched her hand gently to my cheek salty with tears of the sea; i took her hand, touched and whispered to her: "my love has found solace with me." "miss," she said, "does that not make you happy?" and her face was confused and concerned "miss, are you happy?" she asked me again "yes,." i remember the tears in his eyes. |