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    Whimsical Words and Dramatic Affairs

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      ~*~

      This is another typical poetry topic: the tail of woe. The song of misery. The sonnet of discontent.

      The poems in this section touch upon that sort of empty, vast, soul-consuming situation. May your eyes, heart and mind survive the experience.

      Untitled

      I stand at the Gateway to Wind,

      Casting out my poor heart.

      Smokey tendrils of lavished peace

      Cloud my eyes, tickle my nose.

      Don't give me your pain for this.

      You make the words empty of myself,

      Casting them to the whirling fates

      Only to die in the Passionless Flats.

      You gave me the golden key,

      Then locked me inside my heart.

      Where were you when the termites swarmed?

      The windows are cracked and burned.

      I am blind for all I can see.

      The wind is stinging my eyes.

      I cry because I can't close the Gate.

      It's you, you know. Only you

      To live or die: No, I can't escape.

      Too hard to walk the vanishing path.

      I'm afraid to pass beyond the Gate.

      The Artist

      I do not lurk in your halls for artistic reasons.

      Although my voice is a symphony,

      And my hands create a song of light and reason,

      I am nothing new in this universe,

      There is nothing I have not done.

      So I do not come here for creative purposes,

      But rather for my initial call.

      You have an angel in your hall,

      Though you do not believe her,

      A prodigy the gods call, “Daughter,” and bestowed

      Their linguistic talent into, that she might sing.

      I have not come here to bless your desires,

      And I did not arrive on the wings of loving hope.

      You have the fallen walking your floors,

      Even though you do not hear her,

      And I do not lurk in your halls for artistic reasons.

      If I had come here for that,

      Then I would be no better

      Than ones who have come here before,

      Who fed and gloried in their bloody kill;

      Gave nothing in return, no thanks and no skill.

      You have a goddess within your walls,

      Though you do not praise her, and she is tired.

      Sick to death. Disturbed by your hazy gazes

      And half-formed promises, the things that kill seasons

      That would birth a wonderful artistic being.

      I did not come here for artistic reasons,

      Though you flattered yourself to believe in such.

      I do not need to be complimented or flattened to see

      The glory in falling leaves, the stanzas in sunshine,

      Or to know the tiers that is the nuance of mankind.

      Rather, I came here as those of my kind must do,

      To bring these hidden desires to you.

      No. I did not come here, it was you who called

      And begged a spirit would come, with wings outspread

      To feed the little vampires that clamor in your kitchen

      And beg for a meal, wholesome and tasty.

      I did not come here, it was you that brought me in

      Only to grow confused and lost at your artistic reasons.

      Betrayal On Blackened Wings

      I held a promise tight in my hands,

      The hope of my people lay beneath my feet.

      I wore the face of a hated rival

      And crushed civilizations, all I'd meet.

      But, the promise turned into quicksilver,

      And so fueled with dust and despair,

      My eagle wings turned black and sharper.

      I lost my rebellion, my war, even my share.

      Hung in a net, my wings broken around me,

      The filth and stench warmed by the river of fire,

      I suffered alone, tortured and anguished

      Until one got me out through passion and desire.

      These days, I spend my days as a mortal,

      My name has changed through dogma and gossip.

      Where once I was Blue and the Light in the east,

      Now I am darkness, anathema, drowner of ships.

      I am a woman, I am also a passionate being.

      Yet they call me evil, faithless and a liar.

      Cruel justice when my only crime was returning

      Pain for the betrayal of my inner soul's pyre.

      Despair Twinkles In Starlight

      I am Goddess of the nighttime hour, waiting for dawn to light the horizon

      And crown me King, reverse direction on the chessboard, play havoc with linear dreams.

      Star-seed of mighty right, singing with sounds so strange none have heard for millennia

      Yet these notes are mine to be explored, as always, breaking free from life's implications.

      Drawn with sword of liquid silver; trust, justice, the Nephilim way.

      These things mind nothing to Entourage gossip. Bruise the price, take the reward

      Guilt stains thy lips red. Cherries plucked for random delight, left rotting

      However long until the sun sets onto clamshell windows, shadows deepen.

      Lucifer, lend me back my wings for I must fly away to mountains ancient,

      Scars of ships across the ground, and deep chasms of underwater cities.

      Dinosaurs speak of their dragon days when roaches were king, and I

      Danced across the shadow twilight, a ghost only to those who knew me.

      Glittering star crown lies waiting

      The brave chain the lock and keep the door closed.

      Fools fear to tread.

      Eaglewoman

      Dark shadows before my eyes,

      Storm clouds looming in the skies,

      The drumming of my heart in my breast,

      As my weary soul calls for rest.

      Distant voices in smoky shrouds

      Command the billowing clouds,

      And I, standing on the plain,

      Raising my lips to the coming rain,

      Fire in my eyes, spear in my hand,

      Feet sore from walking the land . . .

      Should you I ever meet

      I'd raise my voice to gladly greet,

      But not for long. Then when I go

      Believe the me you've come to know,

      And look for my specter in the sky

      When spreading my wings, I fly.

      Ophelia

      Fair Ophelia, asleep on the pond banks

      near calm waters, lapping softly towards her ears

      Rise and fall her chest no more,

      Dancing with the fairies, this one forevermore

      Precious locks of romantic softness

      touched no more by longing hands with traces

      of lust, or loneliness, maybe neither

      The lady sleeps on, unaware of local fears

      Deep inside, others desire to mimicry

      the brave lady of bone and flower, laughing tears

      Weeping into her smile, she brought thee

      A present meant to cheer the cold

      Dear society's broken promises

      From kings and would-be knights in rusted armor

      Gave her the release of womanhood

      And freedom to dance in clouds overhead

      Speak softly of angels to the water

      Mermaids sing sweeter to the maid of forgotten youth

      lying still on the banks with velvet

      She turns her eyes from mundane life.

      Wish

      The sinking feeling of repressed wishes

      Covered in the dancing throng.

      Swaying, jumping and waving our hands,

      Nothing is right nor is there wrong.

      The rhythm won't leave our feet to rest.

      Briefly, the desire stabs within.

      Push it away in an energetic twirl.

    &nb
    sp; Won't do well to feel sad within.

      And the guitar beckons to our voices.

      Come forth. Bring about the mosh.

      Flying souls are briefly kin by sound.

      All are alive, then we are not.

      The band is gone. The people are leaving.

      I stand alone, gasping for air.

      And the dream clutches my heart poignantly.

      Wish, wish . . . I were up there.

      Trial Of The Suburbian

      Neither red nor white, but pink

      In the ways my heart and mind thinks.

      I come from the forest, also the hills;

      Raised with neighbors up to my gills.

      I dance in the moonlight, walk by day,

      And use perfect English, everything I say.

      After years of tears and school yard fights

      I really can't bring myself to be white.

      Yet little was given me of the red road

      And when I ask, answers rarely are told.

      Pink, can't fit in no matter how I try.

      But I have the heart! I scream to the sky.

      Don't belong in the suburbs, nor on the rez

      Red, white pink. . . call me "indigenous" instead!

      Ascension

      Stop.

      This thing you ask of me

      Causes pain in my security,

      As the weights I gained to come down

      Are Cut away. It leaves me bleeding.

      Please.

      You needed my descent.

      This was not part of our bargain,

      And heaven help me as I shatter

      Inside of myself to explode outward.

      Why?

      Is it so hard for you

      To flip your wings skyward joy

      And flex your muscles for the leap home

      That you require of everyone else?

      Mother Nature

      Tried to write a poem today, but

      Found I had not much to say.

      This senseless war overwhelms me

      Pity, 'cause I really don't see

      Why we don't live in harmony

      In our nature, I guess.

      Tried to sing my songs today, but

      They seemed to be clumsy and wrong.

      I know my peaceful notes were right.

      It's always wrong when we fight.

      I'm sure you can see I'm right.

      In our nature, I guess.

      I would've run for president, but

      I'd have lost, that was evident.

      I couldn't have begun this war.

      Peace is what I was born for.

      My soul has no need for more.

      In my nature, I guess.

      If I could, I'd go to space, and

      Find some better Otherplace.

      But, you'd take my unpolluted land;

      Start the wars all over again,

      Change the greenery to useless sand.

      In your nature, I guess.

      Laughter

      God, are you laughing at me?

      Things just happen too comically.

      And here I am . . .

      here I am . . .

      Standing alone in the shattered glass,

      Suffering alone in the pain

      And the rain . . .

      pours down my face . . .

      The currents join together in rivers.

      Don't laugh at me because I cry.

      If you were human . . .

      you'd cry, too . . .

      And scream out, "Why?"

      To the silent heavens

      While I'd be laughing at you . . .

      Gilded Cages

      Life in a gilded cage sounds ever so sweet

      With all your desires and needs at your feet;

      The finest of foods, the softest of beds;

      All colors of silk pillows to lay your head.

      Wear your crown in the morning, your collar at night.

      Walk straight with small feet; do everything right.

      Now sing for me, Nightingale, or no dinner this day.

      Clean up your feathers; tuck the mess away.

      Shame on you, Princess! Don't think for yourself.

      You've been bad so you go back on the shelf.

      Don't be sad, don't cry, look at your walls of gold.

      No one else has done this much, so I am told.

      Gilded cages are pretty and most are kept there well.

      But upon introspection, gilded cages are hell.

      Wings

      Sing me a song of another place

      Where the music is so sweet,

      The flowers grow, the children dance

      To the piper's lilting beat.

      Open your mind and take me there.

      Spread your wings and fly.

      Chase the freezing close away

      Breathe with me a sigh. . .

      On the wings of a dream

      Feathered notes come to me

      The clouds are my covers,

      Covers to me

      It's all in a child's mind

      Say why it belongs to me.

      You wake to this old, gray world.

      You've seen how it was meant.

      It's time you stopped waiting

      For someone heaven-sent.

      If everyone would try for it,

      It would change to reality.

      There's nothing to show for it,

      Just a simple pipe dream.

      It hasn't been that long since

      You began to question this:

      Since you've fought your way

      From naiveté’s dumb bliss.

      You're dancing hard and fast now.

      You're trying not to fall.

      But if you don't, then you won't

      Learn to get up at all.

      Break

      Grief vomits forth from the heart.

      Bleating sounds asking why?

      Tears escaping to their fallen freedom,

      Preemptive sorrow, you shut the door,

      Removing things you'd given me,

      Grasping at lines, ripping them away,

      And sickness, the woe of withdrawal.

      Gloom to the break, I grow yet again.

      Pain is good for the artist's soul.

      Figment

      Today I am a figment

      And therefore not real

      A reflection of dreams

      And unable to feel

      Today I am a pixel

      A color on the screen

      A pawn to play games

      Or color small space green

      Today I am unspoken

      And pushed to others’ whims

      Unable to articulate

      The pleasures or the sins

      Today I am empty

      Today I am but dust

      Of hopes and glory

      And things I thought I must.

      Homeward Bound

      In my nutshell, I drifted the ocean,

      Buffeted by waves and pushed by storms

      Until I landed on your shore.

      You greeted me with a smile,

      And asked me to stay forever, but I...

      Knew....

      That the tides would pull me away again.

      "You belong here," you said to me

      as the sunshine surrounded us,

      Like your smile.

      So I tried to stay in your shadow

      To shine with my daylight

      To stay! Oh! To no more wander

      The rip tides of my eternal song.

      I approached you often in doubt,

      Finally asking bluntly, "Do I belong?"

      You said yes with serious eyes, and I...

      Believed you....

      Your jungle was wide, deep and dark.

      The leaves blocked the sun where we played.

      We ran down dry river beds, threw stones.

      You climbed treetops while I watched,

      Envious at your freedom in our home.

      The animals loved me; brought me tea.

      Until the sna
    ke wrapped his coils between us,

      Making a wall I could not climb over.

      You shouted at me from behind the scales,

      To no avail. Little monkey, you clambered away

      So only the snake could follow. So I....

      Wept bitterly.

      Lost, I wandered away from the forest

      Back to the sea, where I first stood on the shore

      And you made me your siren.

      My boat had sunk, so I had to wade

      Until I could see no trees, only desert

      Where you said you’d meet me, to say hello.

      I found there that bottles do not float on the sand.

      Bereft of you, the heat made me wander

      Into parched depths where scorpions scuttle

      And horses have no name. Gods! To leave!

      To return where I'd called home; where I belonged.

      But the sands in the desert push like sea water,

      And your words echo like waves crashing in time.

      No message shall ever reach me. I thought....

      I belonged.

      But as any autumn leaf can tell you,

      As can droplets of rain, or underwater currents,

      Broken hearts are divided souls, with split parts that travel.

      It’s not that I don't belong with you.... I just....

      Don't belong.

      Homesick

      Open my eyes to the rising sun

      And I shall stand upon my home

      I shall watch the light fade

      Until dusk where my future is waiting.

      The frost shimmers with outside beauty,

      but frozen cold like the longing in my heart.

      Close my eyes, dear love, and whisper

      But I cannot hear you aside from that.

      The glittering stars are ice and time,

      singing... calling... hoping...

      Borealis.

      Lullaby

      Sleep now, my wild-eyed side.

      Now is not the time to play.

      Weep not as now you hide

      From the glittering rays of day.

      Punished for your noble deed,

      An exile among your own kind;

      Our life, an example others should heed,

      A gem for kobold to find.

      They awoke you, despite my plea

      And now we are in pain.

      So I know I must from thee

      Turn away and face the rain.

      I remember you, my playful heart,

      As one would a childhood dream.

      But now is not the time to start

      Reliving the laughter and screams.

      And so, my dearest, beloved soul,

      You must close your eyes and rest.

      There are other times to make things whole,

      To take and pass the test.

      Pray Thee Much

      See the people dancing, linked hand to hand;

      A chain of daisies twined around Gaia's fair brow?

      Oh how I wish . . . but for me, 'tis not so.

      For when I go home, I shall be locked in a little room,

      Weighed by my ancestor's years, graced by a crown of thorns,

      By which pricking me with the pain of responsibility.

      Pray thee, if there were a way to open my heart

      Like a window and thus free my wild soul . . .

      Could I not go home, just once?

      And run through the fields, 'ere I did as a child,

      Chasing breezes with flutterbies, nurtured by joyous nectar.

      Could I not, just once . . . oh, but for once

      Be given, nay shown, the path I seek . . .

      Could I not, I pray, just once be young?

      My Private War

      The carrion birds fall upon

      The carnage below.

      I stand upon a high cliff

      And watch them.

      The rushing tide of emotions

      Have drained away,

      Leaving me empty somehow.

      I fought, slashing out

      With my bright blade, feeling

      The blood ebb from the wound in my side.

      I slaughtered them as they did my mate.

      I have stood alone

      On this cliff that overlooks

      The scene of the battle.

      I have won my private war,

      But can't help knowing that I lost.

      Teardrops

      Bright, shiny, wet drops

      Splash down to unknown place.

      Clear, violet eyes reflect

      The world outside and in the mind:

      So many things.

      Shiny drops splash down.

      Wet lips embrace

      In love's last kiss.

      The Storm

      Stoic calm to maintain the surface

      A hurricane rages below.

      Swirling, storming and flattening….

      My buoy bobs along the water.

      The lines feed the storm.

      Dangling, teasing, and floating…

      Fish scatter as I sink.

      I am drowning.

      Turtle On The Highway

      The struggle of life caught my attention;

      The urgency, the fear,

      The hurried movements of two front legs.

      The cars around him had taken half.

      Doomed, he clamored for the other side.

      He was too far away for me to hit,

      So his misery must have continued.

      Great powers, take this memory from my eyes.

     


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