Grey and Blue

Outside is bright like
ice crystals falling through a river of sparkling sunlight
The brisk wind tears at my clothes
trying to access my heart which is
oh so tightly bound, deep in my chest.
So deep like
in a cave those slippery silent rivers of dark water
sliding inconspicuously through walls of ancient stone.           My heart is old and soft like those
                                                                                                                         crying cavernous depths
                            My mind is lost in the black night
                            not a scary night, no... A close night.
        I think
that if you open your eyes
Like on the rainy days when the sun slowly
pokes out for a teary glance at the wind-blown world

If you opened your eyes             all the lonely black rock would go away
   like fog on a steamy Sunday morning
                  And my eyes would be grey again
your eyes are like the lakes so blue
So deep blue
They call me beautiful.  

Winter Words

I cannot write
My words are small and comfortable
inside my chest behind my heart
Slow and content just sitting there
Warming themselves by the fire of my soul
typed hands stretching toward the heat
Those words
remember the dark ocean in his eyes
and the soft grip of his fingers
Anchoring my heart
So that many waters
don't wash away my love.

Hush

I open my window really wide
so all the wind comes in
And crashes through my room, making
the ghosts shudder and whisk away into the corners
where the shadows stand still and dark.

I watch the streetlights spill
slippery stripes of silver on the sidewalk
where cursing silhouettes dodge and dash
between cold splashes of cloud tears.

I climb up in a high tree,
get all shivery and rained-on
with black leaves slapping my arms
And great envelopes of nighttime landing
in my lap.

Then I huddle back
my hair drips and my fingers are lost in an iceberg,
my nose froze more than Alaska
But my smile is stitched on with puddly permanency.

I wink at the ghosts before
I fall asleep.

Tenderly Breathe

You come and Go
                                mmm...like a moth.
Satin eyelids wings so soft and gently fluttering
                                                                                       velveteen darkness in chocolate pools
                                                                                                                                                            your eyelashes damp
with haunting tears.       That fragile sincerity in your
                                                                                                  fathomless midnight eyes. So dear.

oh...when time is a madly racing minuteman                 and quakings of the soul are lost.far behind,
                         I will
                                    bath again in the melting ache of love
                               flood the nooks of my heart with purest gold
                   I will caste my imperfect angel wings around Your breaking,
                                          hold you together till the opal moon, when you are strong
                                                            again.  

ICU

                             Back in the darkness
                                                Clean reassuring sterile
                                                                       Smelling like gentle citrus
                                      The world may be upside down but
                     this room is okay.
         Soft smiles and fragile voices
                                            which call quietly to God in heaven:
                                                                                                                heal me.
                                                     Eyes are staring wide but sleepy
                    Shadowed with empty memories
    Her face is so lovely and she is sad
                                                             don't worry.
                                                                     Hands are warmer than the piled sheets
                                                     comforting. The night
is so very long it seems to never
                              end footsteps coming and leaving speaking words
                                                                                  of patient love they cannot know why
                                                    Each heartbeat is a victory.

Be Safe

That ripping sound
my heart is breaking
For you, O Dearest Love
In your grasp I am standing
afraid to leave you
Lest the world catch
and haunt you, O Fragile One
Eyelashes glittering with salty diamonds,
you sigh against my hand
and cling to life
This frightening reality you
are so reluctant to reenter.
Weep, O heavenly behemoths,
shed your grey sorrow on the thirsty ground
The world must mourn tonight.
For even all my tears
can't show my sorrow.

Holding on to You

There are so many stars in the sky
so bright they blind me    from so far away
There are so many drops of rain falling
so cold my heart may stop      so heavy my eyelids close
There are so many pains in my soul tonight
so deep they tear me apart    I am so afraid

Where is my savior
          To whom do I turn when  the darkness
             of death is suffocating me
                     
Did he forget me


In your chest      blood is pumping
Your heart is still alive and full
In your fingers     you can feel me
You are still the one I know

Despite how far    I feel     I'm falling
Fear is not
      alone
Near my scared and broken spirit      is hope

holding on
   to you.

Love Without End

Athousand pieces
         fragments of triangles, pyramids, diamonds
    chunks of squares, cubes, emeralds
              scraps of circles, globes, pearls.
Tenthousand memories
               smiles and laughter and joy,
         tears and weeping and hurt,
                    silence and understanding and peace.
Ahundredthousand feelings
      i love you ,   you don't understand ,  
              i am angry ,   i wish i wasn't ,
          i do not care ,    i can't care about everything.
Onemillion heartaches
that awful writhing pain
10,000,000 holding me down
Drawing me closer to my Father
100,000,000 suffocating helpless soAfraid
wishing hurting
1,000,000,000 piercing punching clinging
Filling
God what is left to hold on to

my infinite love
       

1 Week

Your eyelashes are damp. Salty tears sliding around your closed lids.
    Why are you crying, dearest
I held your warm hand in mine and.   you squeezed my fingers just so hard
          Do you know you are so strong, darling
You yawned.     Tired baby lips and small puff of air
      Are you sleepy, my sweet

I hate saying bye to you.  You're too beautiful and so afraid, I think

God protect him,        he is scared. Hold him close
Because I can't.

Stroke his hands when I'm not there
And whisper in his listening ear
        I love you
When I have no more voice to say it

KYLE OPENED HIS EYES!!!!!!
Dear Lord,
Thank you for your faithfulness.

In Your Heart

The clear tubes.   and red flashing buttons
Hissing machinery and scary numbers
You're so big and brave.      lying in the white bed.
Still and silent as a ghost
You are beautiful. I could stare at your peaceful face forever
In it there is heaven
This is you
And I love you.
You can hear me whisper in your ear, can't you
I said that I love you
You'll remember that.
Nothing can replace you in my heart,
loveliest boy so strong
And nothing can replace me
in yours.

Slippery Afternoon

You love me
in a way.   to make me cry

swiftly as the grey rain slips down the window
the gentle weeping of the lonely cook.    over her dirty dishes
      splash into the scummy water, the saltwater from her lashes

and in the greasy streets outside
the giggling children and the whisk of a cat
around the corner

Your haunted eyes are   dark collections of thoughts and memories
opening up
When you look at me like       a crazy man
all torn up and wanting, starving like the cat...but hungrier
My smile disappears
    no it fades away quickly.   And is taken over by a slip of tears
You make me cry

the way your eyes love me.   like the raindrops so steady but        hard to catch

I Will Never

When the stars are forgetting to sparkle
and the milky moon is turning crimson with
      the blood of crying children
When there are no more voices left to sing
and the rocks and stones scream out for love
             and the swiftest rivers cannot flow
When even the sun has turned cold and heartless
and the only sound is the terrible rain collapsing
        in inky puddles between broken hearts

I will still hold you in my arms.
My blinded eyes will even then remember     your smile.
With hope,
    I will continue searching for you
Spurred on by the memory
of soft words      lavished on in love.
Don't you see, my dearest?                    nothing can tear you out of my soul
the seeds you planted have grown roots

my friend, you are not alone
         and I will never give up on you

Three Heartbeats

There are raindrops
and bright spots of sunshine
   Angry faces
     and gently smiling friends

Maybe I rose is blooming    in someone's garden
   maybe I baby is being born, crying out for heaven in his mother's arms

A boy is becoming a man   too early for his broken heart
           (they were best friends, so what else would break?)
         He wants to get married, he said
                                     maybe he just wants someone to hold
                           someone who will kiss him goodnight when he's lonely
                  someone who he can trust will never leave him ever (even when the rest of the world    does.)
      I wish I could
         tell him     How very much I adore him
How I would marry him in three heartbeats      (three years if he'd wait)
But,
my love stretches out so far that I want him to be happy. I want him to love
whoever is right, Lord...whichever girl makes his eyes shine brighter than the stars

There are cloudy days
and weeks of blue sky
        Eyes full of tears
          and overflowing laughter

But the Lord my God sees our hearts
So nothing is impossible.

A Rose

A white rose is in my garden.
   -- must have sprung up one day when the gardner was     away
               tiny velvet leaves unfurling in tentative
 emerald wrinkles
awaiting the sun's unconditional warmth
It isn't tall or very bold.
  -- but it is strong, I can tell.   unswervingly true and pure as heaven
                        like a virgin bride the petals reveal themselves
so innocently beautiful
   I cannot help but kiss their pearly coolness

It has no pretenses, I find.
Thoughtfully I have mused o'er its lonely countenance
    for hours,
        I sit among the grand hydrangeas on a mossy stone,
contemplating the whiteness, the dark green, the perfection.

What trials
brought a rose to me,
When did this angel
appear?
What have I done to deserve
a flower,
or perhaps this is a curse
in disguise?


Then, I laugh --    Oh! Foolish heart of mine!
Why do you wonder at miracles?

Memento Mori

I cannot sleep tonight
with shadows curling in darkening corners
the rush of insects flying in the night
crawling spiders and whistling mosquitos
The floor is hard and unyielding
it doesn't catch my tears (the way you would
if you were here)
I am anticipating missing you
tonight it seems not so real that you are close
It feels like you are many miles away
probably forgetting me even though we were friends
I hope it is not true
my imagination may be running away again
But I wanted to see you this evening
sitting in the sunny dusk with a warm breath of air
at our backs saying, memento mori
It is too bad that our paths didn't cross
I wish they had
meandered together like magnets or converging rivers
I did not expect to like you this summer
or even to think about you twice
How wrong I was.
I realize now, there is no going back.
Missing you is
a given.

I Love You

I hate confusion
I hate when you say something
and mean another
I hate when you lie
i hate the ticking clock,
the time
That tells me it's late for you
It's early yet for me and
i hate the hours that go by,
whispering that our days together
Are limited.
I hate the uncertain feeling
i get when your words are
short
When you don't meet my eyes and
your mouth is grim.
I hate so much
about this.
I hate the sun when
it shines on our anger
I hate the smile
that i miss on your face.        Oh hate!
It is much easier to hate than
to love.
So ready I am to hate the world
that pulls me away from you.
I forget so quickly
So quickly I forget:
     it isn't you I hate. No, no.
     i will not hate you. ever.
I only hate this life
These horrid circumstances
which make you sad, mean, and worried
I only hate the crowded
space in my heart that doesn't want to make room
My heart is so full it is hard to squeeze
you
In.
I only hate
the hated evil that
tears our fragile souls apart.
      I love you, my sweetest boy, I love you
i only hate
hating you.

Sky Hug

Sneaky eyes       racing my heartbeat
          sea glass            ,all different hues,  reflecting my smiling face
the cold prickle      tingly happiness in the bottom of my stomach
and a tiny piercing     pain in the center of my heart
( i now know why men think Love is
  a master archer, shooting erotic arrows
  into lonely bosoms. it feels thus when
  i see my lover's face, his hands — when
  i hear my lover's voice, his beating heart )
Adorably secret grin     making my eyes wide as the moon
           steady warmth       ,the most certain sensation,  holding me close
the softest question             I cannot respond. my lips yearn to answer
with a gentle pressure      with a tender promise            
 ( but he gave me a sky hug, and a kiss — and
     i now i don't miss him   quite as much )

4 Years

Four-year-old hearts
beat tender
and fragile with-in small chests.
Moth-wing words and
dew-drop conversations can
seduce a smile from the saddest child.
Silky curls
rose-petal cheeks and
spiderweb eyelashes,
butterfly kisses
and Wildflower eyes
Four-year-old souls
are stronger
than those who have withered with age.
Four-year-old angels
shine brighter
In heaven from whence
they came.

Truly Lost

There is beauty in things broken
until they are stripped bare of even the brokenness.
     Then, beauty has no foothold
     and the heart can change no more.
That broken beauty must be saved,
held on to with a fierce tenacity
For even the most fragmented soul
will find itself again
as long as that natural, inherent splendor
(the gentle knowledge of the majesty within)
is maintained.
     Only when that core of heavenly sentiment
     is forgotten,
only then
is a soul truly lost.

When the East is Golden

What can I do
with a beautiful sunrise That is
bound to make a perfect day?
Blushing skies with
Bubbles of bluey grey clouds
except where the sun is: those clouds
are gold.

Gilt edged rooftops and sparkling emerald grass,
silent trees waiting to be washed in splendid morning

The sidewalk counts its way to the edge of the
Spinning world, all the way to where the brightest star
pops up on the horizon
Making the nighttime dark flee swiftly into tomorrow
Flowing across the earth in light leaps and sunny somersaults

What can I do with a beautiful sunrise
That is bound to make a perfect day?
Can I capture it and put it in a box, just
a small box in my closet
Or should I snatch the marigold rays as they slant
across my window, and store them up in my soul?

Angels' Words

When the air is heavy and stifling
in heated apathy,
And wrinkles of breezes
warm the night,
I Whisper anxious thoughts
To the listening stillness, and
the tremors of my heart are quick
and real.
When crystal tears make salt-paths under
my violet eyelids,
And worries are pinioned to the sobs
in my breathing,
I Hear a gentle voice inside me, tuned
To the pocket called Soul. It
tells me I have no need to feel afraid or to
cry in bed
Tenderly,
as if an angel's golden words are flowing
into me
It tells me that
Time is fleeting, but love is forever
And I wouldn't mind
spending forever with you.

One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.
Psalm 27:4 

Sleepytime

The moonlight drips through the leaves
lazily melted wax from a forgotten candle
The air is sharp and chilled like
blood and rust and foreign seas
The stars are so far far away in the transparent sky
that I don't have to remember them
The night is full
of shadows and darkness and silhouettes and
creaking, chirping, humming sounds
The eyes of a raccoon are two hovering lights
half-way up the swaying branch of a spidery tree
The lightening bugs are dancing silently
souls of nighttime wanderers lost in the dark
There are snakes and crawlies and creepers
there are moths and crickets and kittens
There are homeless and orphans
starving and lonely
Happy new husbands and babies crying
And there is me
Comfortable and sleepy, cleanish and dreamy
Thinking fondly
of one who takes away my
angry words
of one who makes my heart smile in its sleep.

The River

Softly runs the river
Slowly past the sunset sky
Silently carrying my dreams
Smoothly on by

Turning with the earth
Traveling away from me
Telling strangers my fate
Taking in lands I will never see

Softly runs the river
Slowly past the setting sun
Seeking truth and lies and danger
Until this life is done.

It Is the Sky

It is the sky
brilliant and far away
studded with frail clouds
and smokey airplane trails
weaving a quilt of traveling memories
purest blue
warmth and life and golden breaths
of sunshine

It is the sky that changes
to listless nighttime
stars and planets and winking lights
the crying moon the black trees stitched into shadows
there is a scream
somewhere in the darkness
the cool breezes peek by

It is the sky
streaked with angry blood and yellow sweat
when the sun goes down
like a birthing mother silently bearing
her child into the world

It is the sky that weeps
when the world is parched
cascading tears from stormy eyes
onto the land
the barren land

Butterfly Tree

Butterfly
with softest wing,
oh so fragile,
black velvet lace and drops of
crimson blood
gently wafting the summer air,
basking in the tranquil sunlight

Breezy trees
their silence killing every other sound
in this living wood,
this emerald forest of painted leaves and
rustling ferns
lie down
softly in the ghostly leaves,
buried in forgetful soil and curly green moss

Dear Oskar Schindler,

They say
if you save one life, you have saved the world.

There were trains filled to bursting
with tender souls all clamoring for air all screaming
for a space to breath
You were there to give them
water,
pouring it in living torrents onto their desperate faces.

There was a child one of millions
her dress was the color of blood she was innocent and
small in the crowds
You were there to mourn her
death
she was the world for someone, you know.

There was a woman broken beyond repair
she was held close by a monster a beast and there was
fear in her eyes
You were there to show her
love
deep within your eyes and in your kiss.

There was a factory stuffed with workers
old and young and helpless with armies and demons on the
way to kill them all
You were there to remember each and every
name
every Jew was on your list, even the children.
Why, then, do you weep
Sir,
huddled broken in the road?
Why do your strong, generous hands shake with
grief?
You did everything.

They say
if you save one life, you have saved the world.

Herr Direktor,

you have saved eleven hundred lives
you have saved eleven hundred worlds.

Brown Day

It's a brown day today.
Mahogany hair and chestnut skin
Cinnamon pants and burnt sienna shoes
Chocolate shirt covering bronze shoulders
Russet lashes holding on to gingersnap eyes
Mumbled words tinged with copper
A lonely cocoa soul silently being
Sepia sad in the corner
This brown day won't
Go away.

Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid... for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.
Deuteronomy 31:6

This Timeless Happy Age

— the flashing waves
rollin on the greatest lake
with the wind sparkling in our ears and
the inexorable sunlight dancin loudly
in our eyes —

Your face is laughin at the storms
that I heard rumors of
— because, y'say,
the sky is clear —
The sky, I see, is blue and white like a
sapphire pitcher of steamin milk — such a hot
day it is that even the ghosts
are sweatin all around us

My arms are pink and
your back is brown...

The laziest god you are, fallin asleep
with smile lines by your eyelids and the blindin
water at your side, while I lie
Under the emptiness of summer
and dream little things
For you and me and us together
in this timeless age
of happy
weather
— in this happy age
of timeless
love —

English 5th Hour 101

Voice of husky dusky nights
Sleepy darky longish eyes
Velvet browny blacky curls
Skin of coffee toffee bronze

Smile of whitey slighty sly
Lopey long-legged tilty gait
Slender slopey skinny waisty
Laugh of scratchy chokey joy

Salmon shirtsy
Stripey shortsy
Straightish nosey
Nobby kneesy

Everybody look at Logan!

Work Out

I just want
Things
To work out the way
They were planned way back

When God made the world

I just want
Things
To be good and right

I want everyone to be happy

And mostly I want things to work
So that I can be with you
Forever.

The Bridge of Sighs

The Bridge of Sighs
Yellow dusty fog settles
The burial shroud
Of two children who
Dreamed themselves to
Be in love
The Bridge of Sighs
The moaning river
Passes under slowly and
Stickily, it remembers
Their tears falling as
Processions streamed across
Its darkened waters
The funeral of two
Children who dreamed
Themselves to be in love
The Bridge of Sighs
Silent stones tell no one
What passed that
Fateful night, the
River was smooth and
So very still it sidled
Under the bridge unaware
Of two children who
Dreamed themselves to
Be in love and were
Murdered
There in the cold night air, their bodies folding
Together like petals of a dying flower, falling
Over the edge of the bridge of sighs into the
Unfeeling waters below
It was jealousy
I think

Background

Why would it be a picture
of yourSelf when you were blonde
and innocent ---
that you stare at every day?
When I comment, you point at it
with shaking fingers and let out
a forced laugh.

In the blurry picture,
your hand is outstretched;
you are, I think, asking for something
with an expectant, shiny smile ---
your eyes are brilliant in your childish face,
they stand out like stars against your olive baby skin
I can still see the stars
in your eyes
today.

What were you asking
way back then in the picture?
Who were you reaching for?
--- or does it not matter ---

Maybe you are reaching out for someone
who loved you
once
Maybe you are asking
for someone to notice that the stars in your eyes
are fading.

Love Poem

Tonight I saw the moon for the first time in a while
It was still a bright and shining pearl
The leaves were inky black lace, fossilized in the night sky.

There's a car across the street
Its lights make two yellow paths on the wet ground
A crowd of three strolls past
Laughing too loudly in the still darkness.

My blankets are a pile of blue stripes on my bed
The humming of the night rolls through my window.

My thoughts are full of you tonight, (aren't they every night?)
and I am thinking of your legs and your cheekbones
How they are nice
to look at

The pictures hanging on my wall are of people I love
And people I know
But you aren't there (you don't have to be)
because I know that if we were together
We would shine brighter than a thousand Suns

My Aphotic Mind

writhing in darkness as thick and impenetrable as wet cement
someone asked me a question — his stygian irises boring into my chilly core
i couldn't answer for a thousand days because i didn't understand
what he said — i was distracted by his fathomless voice so deep and rough
so algid
i wept when his hand touched mine — because it was so cold
maybe he was dead, i thought
so when i finally heard his question — so strange it was
he asked me who i loved — his ancient voice was afraid of the answer
i searched his terrifying face for the reason why
he cared
his deathly features waited in anxiety for my reply — i felt his icy hand in mine
each breath i drew was matched by my questioner — his lonely lips parted and trembling
prepared i was to answer in haste
to hear his inquiry in this darkened place and reply with my hands clenched in fists —
my guarded heart beating faster with defensive fear

i didn't know

— my fortifications shrinking within me —
how desolate this angry aphotic mind was — how alone

i couldn't answer for a thousand days
to tell him who i loved
and when i finally spoke my voice was soft and silky like the first rose of summer
i wept with each word
because his hand in mine was cold — like the snow that killed me

i do not love you —
i did not know
you cared

writhing in darkness as thick and impenetrable as wet cement
i will always be —
for i cannot forget his fathomless voice
so algid
but not with hate — oh no
his voice was cold — his hands were cold
with heartbreak

Goodbye

There is no such thing as a coincidence.
It was my left hand,
very soft and slightly warm
that touched the hand of an angel those many
years ago it seems in the echoing of Notre Dame
And it was my left hand,
very sad and slightly afraid
that touched the shoulder of a disappearing friend
just today it was his shirt was soft

It remembered me.

His Death

The road was a long strip of burial cloths that day
Cream-colored and dusty, steaming with death.

The rain was the angels' silent tears
Tumbling out of the clouds and crashing heavily to the ground.

A landmark in the street she was
Crying over her child

Oh

Her child with eyes that had danced...
and remember his smile?
his smile always tore my soul.

The river of people swarming around
passing by
they were not there. Their invisible faces could not see
the woman and her son.

Her breasts heaved in keening sobs
Oh
Hear her mourning song it begins

climbs higher with her sorrow.
and
so tenderly low

Let her weep, I whisper anonymously in their beaten ears
but I need not for they have seen more death than Hades himself.

Across the grey river there is a soul waiting for his mother
he watches her rise and stretch her deathly arms toward the heavens
where a god sleeps.

And her cries are heard in Ramah
They are loud then soft, then aching with
a crowd of disbelief gathering in her bosom.

He was her only son, they whisper in my ear, but they needn't specify.

The road was a long strip of burial cloths that night
Cream-colored and clean, empty with tears

She stood in the road a landmark
Reminding us of where her lost son lay
(eyes no longer dancing, smile no longer tearing our souls)

He is not here! she cried loudly to the fragments of stars
He has been sent across the river
You have no hold on him, o foolish night

I brushed a crystal tear from my cheek and saw her
raise again her empty arms to the sky.

No Idea

Above you, O dearest hateful friend
(in fact, beneath you and around you too)
Are ten thousand angels
with brilliant strong wings,
and powerfully tender arms;
their golden faces never look away.

You burrow through life, O loveliest angry brother
Pretending to not remember the flowing white of their robes
back when you were in heaven (remember?)
that must have been...years before you were born.

Sometimes,
O beautiful furious lover

I lose the reason I was sent to protect you
ah yes...I forget that I am assigned to love you
Even when you are the
Worst
Friend, brother, lover
I could
Ever
Imagine.

Still (ha!)

I will smile.
For it is not my position
to shun one
who is loved by the Lord.

“So after, when he whispers," You love me. Real or not real?"
I tell him, "Real.”

- MOCKINGJAY

“At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "Your favorite colour . . . it's green?"
"That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange."
"Orange?" He seems unconvinced.
"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once."
"Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you."
But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."
Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.”
-MOCKINGJAY

I Will Try Again

I will try to be a strong mountain.
So firmly planted on this earth that not even the
Most faithful can move me.

I will try (I promise.) to be an ancient tree.
That hasn't gotten feeble with age; rather
My roots are living deep within the mire.

I will try to cultivate a heart of stone.
Uninhibited by regret and sorrow and ready to slay
The most convincing lover.

I will try (Really I will.) to not care.
Although your ghost follows me around
Calling my name.

A Poem About Me.

I won't blame you, no matter how wrong you are
You're eyes are the last thing I see before I fall

asleep

Only to dream about your eyes again
And forget that you are not mine to dream about
That you would do anything to not see me
ever
In your life
I forget that there are three things you love
and I am not nearly one
I forget because I have to.
Ever felt like the world is a thousand galaxies of pressure
on one small corner of your heart
And that if I just twist this way - yes just so
it will all come pouring out into shining light of day
But the problem lies in the fact that I never know which way is up
So I flounder on the bottom of a forgotten star
Trying to piece together
That dream I had years ago before I fell


asleep.

The one dream in which your eyes saw me

I remember with a shattered smile. You didn't stone me there.

Ten Steps to the Left

Is a girl with bedraggled bangs and
A shine in her grey eyes
She may be thinking about you when she watches
You. Or she may be thinking about her poem
That is stored between the pillows
On either side of your head.

When she smiles at you she isn't seeing
You. As much as she is smiling at the worn-out soul
That is sighing in your bosom. So smile back
You must smile back because otherwise she will
Most likely wait forever.

Look at her watching the world
And wondering what it is that makes her cry.

The Fakest "Okay" on the Planet

I cannot begin to tell you
How my soul burns
When you rustle past my questioning eyes
Without a word
Or a glance
Or even a breath of recognition.

I am invisible now
And my face is smudged off the
Paper
So all you must see is
Two clenched fists
Threatening your independence.

Please stop.
I will not steal you
Or your heart
So please, please stop
Stoning me.

You

There is nothing I hate more in the world Than you When the sun is shining in your eyes and the wind is blowing your hair around and your mouth is serious and precise and a tingle of desire aches into my stomach. When you turn your head and your cheekbones are perfectly wicked.

The Stone Man

I.

His hands are smooth as limestone.
His stance is firm as granite.
His face and neck are chiseled marble.
His august brow is flawless amber.

Voiceless sentinels, stone men are.
Locked away in self-made prisons.

His lofty glare bores through me.
His archaic eyes are stones as well.
His irises are black as obsidian glass.
His scrutiny no one can withstand.

Essences of diamond, stone men have.
The hardest, sharpest, coldest edge.


II.

Look into The Stone Man's soul:
You will see it is
falling to s h r e d s
a fragile bird in a topaz cage.

Look into The Stone Man's heart:
It is
aching with regret

and 10,100,000 years of sapphire tears.

Look into The Stone Man's mind:
You will find a river of sor-
row
eroding away his emerald dreams.






III.

Once upon a long-ago time,
when The Stone Man lived on a living Earth,
and 10,100,000 deaths had not yet died,

The Stone Man's soul
saw the Sinister Snake Woman,
and his heart
heard the Harpy's hideous cry.
His mind
misjudged the Malediction of Medusa,


And f a r, f a r away
(in the bottom of the ocean)
where mermaids sing and sunlight dies:
there,

The Stone Man let his Love lie.


IV.

Now say with me as we w h i s p e r past:

As long as the moon drops tears on the sky,
and the sons of the angels cry for blood...
as long as the earth whirls 'round the sun,

I will hold the quartzite hand of The Stone Man,
and I will gently rock his garnet heart,
for no one in hell can touch my Stone Man...
lest his amethyst eyes tumble apart.

Alfred Noyes (1880-1958) The Highwayman

                    

                                        PART ONE

                                                 I

    THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
    The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
    The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
    And the highwayman came riding—
                      Riding—riding—
    The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

                                                 II

    He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
    A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
    They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
    And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
                      His pistol butts a-twinkle,
    His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

                                                 III

    Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
    And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
    He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
    But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
                      Bess, the landlord's daughter,
    Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

                                                 IV

    And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
    Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
    His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
    But he loved the landlord's daughter,
                      The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
    Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

                                                 V

    "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
    But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
    Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
    Then look for me by moonlight,
                      Watch for me by moonlight,
    I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

                                                 VI

    He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
    But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
    As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
    And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
                      (Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
    Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.

 

                                        PART TWO

                                                 I

    He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
    And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
    When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
    A red-coat troop came marching—
                      Marching—marching—
    King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.

                                                 II

    They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
    But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
    Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
    There was death at every window;
                      And hell at one dark window;
    For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

                                                 III

    They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
    They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
    "Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
                      She heard the dead man say—
    Look for me by moonlight;
                      Watch for me by moonlight;
    I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

                                                 IV

    She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
    She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
    They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
    Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
                      Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
    The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

                                                 V

    The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
    Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
    She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
    For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
                      Blank and bare in the moonlight;
    And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .

                                                 VI

        Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
    Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
    Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
    The highwayman came riding,
                      Riding, riding!
    The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!

                                                 VII

    Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
    Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
    Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
    Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
                      Her musket shattered the moonlight,
    Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

                                                 VIII

    He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
    Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
    Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
    How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
                      The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
    Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

                                                 IX

    Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
    With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
    Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
    When they shot him down on the highway,
                      Down like a dog on the highway,
    And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

                  *           *           *           *           *           *

                                                 X

    And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
    When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
    When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
    A highwayman comes riding—
                      Riding—riding—
    A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

                                                 XI

    Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
    He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
    He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
    But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
                      Bess, the landlord's daughter,
    Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Oxymoron

The very voice that hurt me
Is the same that is healing me
With every syllable he speaks
I remember where that piece of my heart
Was lost
And he builds me up
Word by word
Until my whole soul again
Is fresh and clean
Like the morning

Stream of Conscience

My heart is caving into my fingers and my mind and my lungs
And every part of my body is aching with tiredness and weari
ness And nothing in the world can stop me from crying and cr
ying And crying big great tears that swallow the whole world a
nd fall Onto my glasses leaving salty stains that blur my vision
because I cant see I am an invalid I do not know which directi
on the sun Is when it is shining in my face I do not understand
why the world Goes upside-down every twenty-four hours and
why the trees Have lovely little green buds in the spring but th
en in the winter Those beautiful small lives are crushed and fro
zen by heartless Snowflakes in the same way my heart is open
and tender like A new wound or an unstitched scar but I am so
afraid that when Brown eyes forget to look at mine and when th
ey fall away so very Fast that I barely see the sparkle that is wh
en I am afraid that the Scary huge snowflakes of dislike will fall
into my open wound and Seal it up tight oh so very tight but with
the wrong thing inside I do not want hurt to be closed up in my h
eart or dislike what I Want to be in there is another heart curled
up close like a friend But so much more than just a friend an ally
and a lover someone Who will support my whole body every time
my soul forgets how To rise every morning and someone who will love me like I am.

Okay

I will hide my
thousands of tears
behind blue-ish eyelids
............because thousands of tears
............won't make him love me.
I will run away
from all that makes me happy
for thousands of days
............because being happy
............won't make him love me.
I will cry
with tears not in my eyes,
but in my thousand-year-old heart
............because my heart
............won't let me stop loving him.

Night-Light

Early in the morning when the whole world
is slanted and tipped on its side
with sleep

Every face is different in the morning
when eyes are still cloudy with leftover
dreams
and hands are still soft with memories

If our eyes should meet in the morning
we would see tender
liking
in each other's countenance

And it wouldn't catch either of us
off-guard.

There Are Certain Diamonds That Do Not Fall from Heaven

I wasn't expecting
more than a giggly situation/
with the chance of a flirtation/
and the certainty of fine muscles.

I wasn't prepared
for a mouthful of tears?
and shaking hands that couldn't breathe?
when two shining eyes fixed on me.

I wasn't ready
to break into my own heart--
in order to see his--
open like a weeping rain cloud.

So I choke on my mourning
and cough up my sympathy
in wheezing
gasping

words

words never say enough.

H

An iniquitous soul on trial
sitting in judgement.

"She's innocent!" I cry.

The room is close and hot,
refusing to hear my voice among the thousands of prosecutors,
bullying to bring forth their false accusations and hearsays.
The defense attorney says his piece,
his evidence is flawless and
....irrevocable.

"See?"
My anxious pleas resume.

Not a single ear hears
Not one mind is swayed
the prosecution continues to lie
....and cheat and fake
....and convince
The judge - oh - the horrible grinning judge
He bangs his gavel
....in the torrent of aspersions

"Guilty!"
the lord of the Earth cries
Guilty of murder, of adultery, slander, gossip and coveting...
of hate, idol-worship, lust, false testimony and gluttony.

And the church shakes its solemn withering head at me as I walk away,
broken.

C

When the sun is a darkening blot against the dying sky
and oceans are salt beds of lost dreams
and every soul on the earth is merely an echo in the mind of God,

I will remember
the soft tenderness of Romeo's lips
.........how it feels to be in love.
I will remember
my soul shattering within my shameful bosom
.........how it feels to die of a broken heart.
I will remember
briny tears gathering like storm clouds in my eyes
.........how it feels to cry.

Not even death,
I think,
could tear those memories asunder

Palm Sunday :)

  Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!
   Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
   righteous and victorious,
lowly and riding on a donkey,
   on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

-Zechariah 9:9 (NIV)

The morning is always fresh and bright
At 9:34
When I walk past the window.

Tears Till April

I would weep ten thousand tears
To have you know I love you.
I would swim ten thousand oceans
To have you in my arms.
I would write ten thousand symphonies
To hear you play just one.
I would catch ten thousand stars
To find your heart.

Skipping Silence

The moon is too bright tonight, my love
I cannot see your face.
A trembling vale of sinister shadows
Has cooled your embrace.

The sky is too still this eve, my dear
No twinkling stars above.
The deepest, farthest, blackest night
Is closer than your love.

The wind blows too warm this hour, my sweet
Each gust a sultry breath,
Not of an angel or fairy, though.
It is the sigh of death.

Number Two

Once,
your eyes were dark and deep
filled with all the troubles
that haunted your sleep.

Now,
your eyes are bright and full
of happy love
that many waters cannot quench.

Always,
though,
remember when it rained.
So when the clouds approach again
You can laugh them to shame.

Number One

Without her
There is only darkness
-------and lingering fear
Before her
There was uncertainty
-------and curtains of shame
Away from her
My heart is heavy
-------and my footsteps slow

But
With her
There is dancing
I am light
-------and unashamed
-------and certain
-------and brave
With her
There is only sunshine

"actually i'm fantastic"

Comforted

Small fish swim in the ocean.
Small birds fly in the sky.

Rock my broken one to sleep
But not the sleep of death
No, never ever fear my child
of losing just one breath.

Through my eyes the world is huge
It takes up half my mind.
The other half is brimming with tears
for all the trembling souls
The poor ones and the meek.
The faltering.

Bind them up in love like the ocean
Set them free to fly inthe sky.

The treacherous tongue of evil men
Should be thrust into the fire
Alas the world is fireproof
and recognizes not those who kill the soul.

Rock my broken one to sleep
But not the sleep of death
No, never ever fear my child
of losing just one breath.

So far away from home you are
I hear your mourning heart
Hold my hand - it is yet outstretched
I'll tell you where you are
On a sinking island
In the deepest sea

Bind them up in love like the ocean
Lest they lose themselves in the terrible sky.

“If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.”
~A.A. Milne

May the sun shine, all day long,
everything go right, and nothing wrong.
May those you love bring love back to you,
and may all the wishes you wish come true!
~Irish Blessing

An Ocean Away

Rest beside the sea,
O February moon
Where you are reflected
In the slippery waters

Visit me in the morning
With a golden bouquet
Dredged from the depths
Of the slippery waters

I wish upon the moon
For it has seen my wand'rings
Tossed like a roaring breaker
In the slippery waters

Kiss me goodnight
O February moon
I am alone and afraid
Of the slippery waters

Not Alone

Red
...is the color of the sunset
over Lake Michigan and the Mediterranean Sea.
Scarlet
...is the color of the blush
on the soft cheek of a girl in love.
Crimson
...is the color of blood
pounding through every person's veins.

What is the color of my soul
...when I discover I am lost?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIANLUCA GINOBLE!!!!!!!!

Gianluca is turning 17 today!!!!
If you don't know who he is, (first of all, you're crazy) look up Il Volo (Italian trio) and you will fall in love :)
I <3 you, Gianluca!

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond...by e.e. cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Blessing

The world is silent
So must I be.
Spinning around
in a circle of tears
My sadness is far from
brimming
Because the silent world
goes around too.
And never forgets
who to touch next.
May I know you
like the world?
Always moving
but never
changing?
May my orbit be
sure and unquestioning?
Show me the world,
oh my soul,
For until I know
love, I cannot
be sent away
alone.

For Peter

Once upon a time
You were a chunky little boy
Who wanted a pink birthday cake
With fistfuls of ice and snow
We giggled and whispered
Making the siblings mad
Now you and I
Pretend to be grown up
You sing and play soccer
And love your first brunette
Her shining eyes
And pulcherrima smile
I also sing
And write words
About loving my neighbor
Wish we had more time to be best friends
We're too similar :)
Good luck with Anna,
Cousin!

Beautiful, Unforgiving Perfection

Beautiful piano softly playing
Beautiful friendship smiling away
Beautiful sisters holding hands
Beautiful dance swaying with energy
Beautiful life

Unforgiving piano pounding
Unforgiving friendship falling slowly
Unforgiving sisters judging
Unforgiving dance painfully driven
Unforgiving death

Perfect eyes so bright
Perfect crushing smile
Perfect musical heart
Perfect absentminded joy
Perfect love

Illegal Cellist

I cannot cry for you
Because with you near me
It is impossible to be sad.
You smile and your eyes are stars
Your lips are softly laughing
At me.
Strong and slender your hands
Hover over the strings and
Draw the bow...
I cannot take my eyes off you.
Even when the day is full of hateful bustle,
Even when I fall into bed each night,
Even when storm clouds obscure every bit of the sky,
There is a bubble of peace
Cornered in my bosom
You may never love me, but
I cannot forget you.

Random Paragraph

A terrifying windswept desert. One would never visit more than once. Silent and churning with white-hot sand, the land was an ocean of naked sunlight. The snaking train of a caravan sliced across the plain like a scar. Ragged beduins led camels laden with gold from Mali, spices from India, amd silk from the Far East. Their weather-beaten faces scarcely blinked at the surroundings. Wiry forearms and straining shoulders muscled the animals into steady obedience. Steady...like the rythme of their footsteps on the ever-changing landscape. These were the middlemen, who dared to visit the desert more than once.

I Have You Now

Hello house
We meet again.
I have walked unheeded through your corridors.
I have greeted your people in their very tongue.
Now, I am a stranger.
I peer from afar
There are two - excuse me four - panes of glass
in between us.
Fight for it, you said.
Then, you turned your head and smirked.
Goodbye house
I have, believe it or not, moved on.
Or not