Having my computer formatted soon, (cause of a stupid virus) and I've been working really hard lately to gather up all of my favorite written stuff together, so I'm gonna post them all in one thread so that I won't have to do that again. So here goes.

Soldier

Statuesque, he firmly stands upon the rolling hill.
But for the soft breeze's brush through swooning willows,
As if to show respect, the earth is quiet, peaceful,still.

Lush, bright em'rald stretches on to carpet miles of field.
In his head, a melody that none can voice
Within the unreached corner of his heart, a hole unsealed.

Quiet rays of sun, those carefree lazy beams of gold
Shine down and cause a bead of sweat to trickle.
Although, inside a crumbling tow'r, his stature remains bold.

To see within his memory, a battlefield of war
Or glimpse into his soul, an opened scar
And if you were to seek his love, you'd find a buried door.

With great reverence, he opens up his eyes to face the sight
The tiny mound of upturned dirt beneath him
And there, atop the mound, a handmade wooden cross of white.

Sheer emotion captures him, his knees began to bend
As tears roll down his leathered, aging face.
Down to ground he kneels, his pride now scattered with the wind.

Wretching sobs soon fade into a bittersweet refrain,
A lullaby that shames the sweetest tune.
Farewell dear soldier, fearless son, the broken father sang.

Grind a spear through taunting throats of phantoms mocking at your doorstep,
Rip the rotten roots from memories you couldn't keep at bay.
Brilliance in your tortured eyes that blaze with winds of unearthed wishes;
Sultan of the iron gate, you guard so fiercly in the dark,
You must teach me how you breathe so deep inside your frozen temple
Where the wick is trimmed so short, we've all run out of room to burn.
Are you intrigued to find me tangled in your web of vague intentions
Striving for those fleeting glimpses of your masterpiece within?
I see you dashing aimlessly toward mirrages of dissention
Seeking vengance for the child that mother never would protect.
Ashes broken with the screams that shatter silence in the distance,
Oozing wounds with altars built on top to hide the sin.
In your isolated haven where your wings begin to thicken
I could sooner swim through quicksand than to ever find your key.
Must I lay my throbbing head down in the fields of barren mishaps
Sullenly admit defeat lest he admit me as his own...?
Or will you low'r the drawbridge o'er your moat of self-made desecration
Grant me entrance through your corridor, and let me know your name...?

*************************************************

The streetlight glares upon the broken village -- mangled ruins
Mingled with debris of papers crumpled on the floor
Pages of your whistful youth, your poetry of motion
"What's in a name?" you sigh, but I am at a loss for words.
"A name," you say "is useless as is courage to a dead man."
But still I ask, for I must give a title to my ghost.

The Garden

He never promised Rose a garden;
no thorns for Daddy's fragile flower.

It pained him to watch her
pierce bare feet on gravel,
and scamper through the field
seizing clusters of prickly weeds
to adorn the headstone
of a mother she never met.
She returned after dusk
with patches of snagged skin
to set the table with china --
jade as me -- in an inane tribute
to the way she imagined it once was.

I feigned sympathy at the winces
as he nursed her wounds
to impede infection;
my own festering sores
unattended and unnoticed,
as was their origin.
Unlike Father, the flower bed
needed me after Mother's death.
I assumed that would change
as soon as I found an opportunity
to plant the Rose...

CARDIGAN


I. Rendezvous
We rushed to meet each other
that evening in October,
our shoes trampling,
crunching dry, orange-spattered leaves
along our path.
Our breaths, heavy from the brisk jog,
filled the air between us
with foggy white ghosts.
I smiled demurely,
wrapped in my sheer pink cardigan;
when I glanced from your face
quickly down to the sidewalk,
you failed to notice me notice (how endearing)
your cheeks flush as our knuckles touched.
*Blush*...

II. Carnival
In a Festival of the Absurd,
the crowd was all agog.
Spectators crammed together --
curious sardines swimming furious upstream --
whirring past displays
of cheap stuffed toys,
grease-on-a-stick booths, and
wailing vendors with dollar signs
in their greedy, beady eyes.
Popcorn rained from cotton candy clouds
spilling into carbonated rivers
that flowed past carmel apple islands.
Mischevious you, darted between
the House of Mirrors and the rubber duck pond.
As I dismounted the Carousel horse,
you asked with a wink if I would prefer
a ride that required no tickets.
We snuck beneath the deserted maroon canopy,
a tunnel of love, reseved for two...

The Rose:

Fourty-eight years had elapsed since the fragile old man
Was plagued by the gripping fear of taking his final breath.
For his fourty-eight years with her left little room
For any emotion besides that which he felt when he brushed her hair
When she would gaze up at him with that innocent blush...
Yes, no room...for his entire world rested in the aging palm of her tiny wrinkled hand.
They both understood, from the very moment their vow of eternity was spoken
That the better part of their eternity would be spent in the afterlife
His cancer had allowed them to be together far longer than they had hoped
But now, at 2:48 am as he lay alone in his bed, he knew that he would die
Without her there to hold him as he passed on.
He opened his eyes one last time to seek a measure of solace
And as if the fates sensed his longing for a glimpse of her,
His strength was renewed for a brief instant --
Long enough for him to turn his head and face the table.
On the table, the old Italian style mahogany coffe table
Rested a claw of iron, intricately etched with swirling designs
Clutched within the claw, a ball of crystal; yellowed with age, blanketed in dust.
And within that ball, a perfectly preserved rose
The first symbol of his passion for her,
Ironically, now the last, as he mustered his strength past the anguish
That coursed throughout his body, and with his hand,
He grasped the ball...leaving the imprints of his fingertips in the dust...

The Undying

Crimson petals float through serum, sealed in time
Kiss of life and death entwined, infinitely
Pristine drops of spring flow freely,
Graced with the essence of a vow consumated
Intercourse of seasons' fluent rythm
Flecks of light escape, convicts of pleasure
Twinkling soft with incandescent bloom
Within the confines of a sphere borne in hope
Perishing not with the ages,
Ceasing never through the endless nights
Finding peril only in separation
But not succumbing to the inflicted wounds
Of fickle mortal emotion...mere feeling.
A Beacon of Everlasting.

Tumble down the treacherous staircase
Of human frailty, indecisive destiny
Into the depths of silence
Teeter precariously on the edge of nothing
And still the light which so shines
Guides you to safety...the Beacon
A lighthouse for wandering romantics
Nothing special upon first glance...
Yellowed with age, blanketed in layers of dust
But, inscribed in those layers
The fingerprints of faithfulness
That laid not to rest with the dead.

Passage

A year and ten flew swiftly by
Since the fateful day she found him
Crad'ling within his lifeless arms the flow'r.
One moonless night, a soulful cry
When the rose's crystal shattered
Face to the ground she wept for one long hour.

Tears and blood, a finger torn
Though not on shards of broken glass
But on the rose's jagged thorn

Slowly, she reached with bleeding hand
And salvaged the untainted rose
From the midst of the sharp, wet rubble
His sonata, played by violin and harp --
Their wedding song -- dancing whimsically in her ears.
The flowing velvet curtains caught flight
On the summer breeze that carried through
The fresh aroma of impending storm
And she closed her eyes,
Allowing the warm dewy mist to envelope her.

Although inside, at half-past midnight
She felt the warmth of sunlight
Sand beneath her feet...the falling tide
And in opening her eyes, she saw him there
Standing in the ocean, a come hither stare
A beckoning hand gesture...

Wading out into the carefree waves
She joined him, hand in hand once more
Their nakedness clothed with salty air
And in their clenched fists together raised
The rose, without thorns...

In loving memory of Loyd Oaks and Arlene (my grandparents)..

Compatible

She walks through the halls
with her head facing downward;
she knows if she makes eye contact
they'll all see she's terrified.
Down through the scars and tears
and the mess she's made of everything,
she can see straight to the bottom
and the bottom looks a lot like her --
yeah just like her own eyes.

He lies to his friends,
tells them tales of his wild life
full of daring escapades and
all complete with love and sparks.
When he steps into his room
away from fading conversation,
he can hear the sound of silence
and the silence sounds a lot like him --
yeah just like his own heart.

He looks into her hollow stare
she feels his fleeting warmth;
they understand each other
and that's all they think they want.
But she chases her fear down
with shots of his rage,
and he scours his anger
with her passive smile,
and they know it's not about them
any more now than when they started.
No, it's not a good reason
but they'll ride it for a while.

He's been out late again
didn't know that she's been crying --
couldn't smell the liquor pouring,
couldn't hear the car door slam.
But he sees the red lights flashing
just six miles out of the city
and he feels his body tremble
as her note slips from his hand.

She just couldn't do a thing with her hair. It had been so important to her as the wife of a pastor to look her best, and even as a pastor's widow she wanted to be presentable. In early November as the leaves began to turn and cover the ground with their thick brown carpet of autumn, she could see that it was her season to do the same. The signs of aging had begun to catch up with her.
Pride failed as she slowly lost her sense of independance, and the rose garden was dying. But she wanted so badly to walk laps around the building, water the plants...she missed her cat, Bootsie more and more with each passing day. Animals are so non-judgemental, and she didn't even have to put her teeth in when the kitty walked in the room. Such unconditional love. But she knew it would be cruel to accept a new pet when Boots died. She didn't want to leave one behind -- no pet should survive their care-giver.
Sunday mornings still smelled of the previous evening's kitchen preparations for the meal after church. Spaghetti was her favorite dish to cook because no one could ever stop eating. You could taste two dashes of garlic and an entire cup full of love in each serving. And she wasn't afraid to try something new because if you don't try, how will you ever know whether or not you like it? Except for shrimp. "I refuse to eat something that looks so much like a bug." Her nap followed the belly full of spaghetti and a sinkful of dishes. Time to shoo everyone out of the house so that she could curl up by the fireplace with some hot cocoa and marshmellows, and kick off her shoes (last count 188 pair of them).
I never wanted to leave grandma's house when I was little; there was too much to be done. Butterfly magnets covered the refridgerator, and I had to arrange every one of them just so. Butterflies were her favorite. Last year for her birthday, I gave her a butterfly lamp. Not really expensive -- in fact, it was plastic. Didn't even give off much light...but it was full of butterflies. And it gave off just enough light for her to fix her hair. But she couldn't do a thing with it. A wig catalogue was what she wanted for her birthday this year. The big 71 was just around the corner, and a wig would do wonders for her spirits. She had wanted to break down and get one for years, but she finally decided that it was time. So daddy ordered her a catalogue and had it delivered straight to her house. It arrived just in time for her birthday.
Sunday morning started out the same as always. We opened the door only to be all but knocked over with the aroma of potatoes wafting from the kitchen. Church goers often became antsy during service simply because of the smell...and this was no exception. We were going to have something new this afternoon, and you could see the excitement on her face. Or was it that there was something different about her? I told her that she looked pretty as I walked through the hallway, and she thanked me. Down the hallway to the Sunday School children I went, and she made her way to the chapel.

It all happened so fast, almost like a dream. First an eerie wheezing noise coming from the kitchen, and soon there were paramedics crawling through the place like a S.W.A.T. team. STOP!! Don't they know that they just broke her antique ashtray moving the table like that? She never smoked, but she loved it anyway. That's her stuff! She is going to be so upset. A huge commotion, and then she rode away in the ambulance. And there, on the floor beside where she had fallen, lay her wig. She had worn it for the first time that morning, and the last.

The hospital room was so quiet and not at all what she would have wanted. It was too immaculate. Nothing homely about it; no color. Just harsh and white. She couldn't have noticed anyhow, but I did. And I noticed her hair...as she lay there so still, her breathing the only movement. It was sticking out from behind her ear. The least I could do for her was fix it...one last touch on the head, a final goodbye and she was gone. She didn't even make it to Christmas, and I will miss her so much. But we will always have the butterflies...

Nowhere

Keep me silent
Yeah, just for a little while
Don't let me speak a word.
I don't wanna mortalize this sacred moment
With vain desires to be heard.
Still the voices
The ones that play in my mind
Quiet even my own
Let me be here now in the midst of Your presence
Let me stand with You alone.

And would you capture my heart?
Take control of my mind?
Take me deep into the part of you
That seems so hard to find.
Just stop time
And let me stay
Till forever
It's okay
There is nowhere I have to be.

My desire
Is just to be near to You
Don't let me stir at all.
In your Presence I find the peace that I long for
Deeper into You, just let me fall.
Doesn't matter
What else I had planned
My soul longs for You
I'll stay in this place as long as You let me
Right here 'till You make me move.

And could you capture my heart?
Take control of my mind?
Take me deep into the part of You
That seems so hard to find.
Just stop time
And let me stay
Till forever
It's okay
There is nowhere I have to be...
Nowhere I want to be...
Nowhere I'd rather be...
Nowhere.

Believe

You know that I'm no stranger
to the apathy that tries to cover me
yet I cry
a million usless tears to keep me
dry...(inside)
I hate the sound of my own voice
ringing through my head so I close my ears
but I hear
a million words reverberating
clear..(they're mine)

Don't forget I'm
Just as lonely
As I look, as I seem
Yeah sometimes
What you get is what you see...

But is that me?
It's not me...

Well did you think I was angry?
Cause I think I'm just scared
That when I reach out my hand
I'll really find somebody there
Cause I don't want to be caught
I don't want to be saved,
I don't want you to be my hero
So don't try to be so brave...
And I don't want you to see me,
don't want you to find me
don't want you to know me...at all.
(And I don't want you to believe me)...

You swear that you can't find me
through the tragedy I pretend to be,
But you try --
A million ways to waste your precious
time...(searching)
You know that I'm just stalling;
It's a masquerade; uninvited you...
And you'd die
a million times to get a peek in-
side..(of me)

Understand I'm
Just as fragile
As I look as, as I seem
Yeah sometimes
We just cannot make believe

Can't you see
It's not me...

Could I get some quiet please
A little respect for the dead?
Don't go searchin for the body
We can use mine instead
I just want some peace and silence
Stop the world for a while
You say you'd feel much better
If you could only see me smile
But that's not me
Just not me...

And did you think I was angry?
Cause I think I'm just scared
That when I reach out my hand
I'll really find somebody there
Cause I don't want to be caught
I don't want to be saved,
I don't want you to be my hero
So don't try to be so brave...
'Cause I don't want you to see me,
don't want you to find me
don't want you to know me...

And I don't want you to feel me
don't want you to hold me
I just wanna be alone
don't want you to be near me
(And I don't want you to believe me)

Believe me

Hear me
Find me
Catch me

Save

me...

Footprints

Can I be real with you tonight?
Just let go, pull back the curtain
Hold nothing back although I'm certain
You see inside without my help.
The words that I'm afraid to say
You heard me think them yesterday
And yet somehow I feel the need
To open up the door myself
I thought that we were intimate
But I don't know where to begin
And I wonder does my falt'ring faith
Drive nails into Your skin again?
I'mpossible to fall from grace?
Why then, won't you show Your face?

I don't need to touch the scars
To know that You bled
I don't have to have proof
I don't doubt what You said
So I can't believe
I don't believe
That You are always here with me
Despite the fact that I can't see You
You'd think I'd know by now.
And yet I watch the world walk by
As I waste Your time at their expense
With all my endless questions "why"
And my search for the second set of footprints.

So tired of apologies
Each time I end up on my knees
I'm so engulfed in my disgrace
And too ashamed to show my face
So much for Your Amazing Grace
My tears imply You died in vain.
Just what exactly do You see
Whenever You look down at me
So wrapped in my own misery
You must think I enjoy the pain.
Your Word says "seek and you will find"
So why on earth am I still blind?

I don't need to touch the scars
To know that You bled
I don't have to have proof
I don't doubt what You said
So I can't believe
I don't believe
That You are always here with me
Despite the fact that I can't see You
You'd think I'd know by now.
And yet I watch the world walk by
As I waste Your time at their expense
With all my endless questions "why"
And my search for the second set of footprints.

So God, forgive me one more time
And please help me to forgive me
From here on out remember
That it's Your footprints I see.

Crush -- (Into You)

Guide me straight through the wand'rings of an indiscreet passion
Forget all those things I once said
Are we better off now that there's nowhere to hide
Better off knowing we shouldn't have tried

I can't seem to find the old photograph now
The one that we took in the dark lighthouse tow'r
Isn't it strange how the stairs seemed to end
Just as the music rang out

The hourglass shattered, the ship sinking fast
Yes, but didn't it take us along for the ride
Echoing far through the hallway of time
With the mystery chasing us down

And the smoke dissipates
Like our laugther of youth
And I wonder just how did I find myself lost
When we meet 'neith the willows
Will you know who I am
Will you even remember I fell into you?

Drown me deep in the madness of your soft supple wind
'Till I drop my resolve with an aching despair
As you swim through my veins in a sweet simple song
And you follow me on through the slow burning fire

When I whisper your secret in the chamber of night
We can tip-toe through our empty graveyard of sin
Kiss the fog with our breath, hear the mourn of the damned
Would you hold me your captive once more

How you danced with the grace of an elegant crush
Buried deep within snow on a chilled winter's eve
I can still see the tea cups you'd wrapped in the linens
As they cascaded down to the floor

And the dream dissipates
And I lie here awake
Wond'ring how did I know I would come here again
Weeping here 'neath the willows
And you just never make it
But if you ever do, could I fall into you...?

Michelle,

You are awesomely talented.

I hope that you will one day submit your work to those with influence within the artistic world. You shouldn't limit yourself to posting here. There are so many poetry sites that are looking for new poets and pieces. You should share your wonderful gift with others in your field.

Beautiful work.

I think it is awesome ! I am so glad you posted all your stuff. It really is amazing. So much talent ! So beautiful.

i have just enjoyed each and every one...fine work ma'am. Your works should be public and published.
nabster

Ummm WOW! Yet again we get glimpse into the passion that lives in you. You are indeed gifted dear sister!

Thanks, guys. I'm actually seriously considering finding a way to get some of them into circulation...I have some more, but my computer keeps shutting down over and over, so it's almost impossible to get anything accomplished. I think I had a volunteer to help me with that, so I should be up and running again one of these days...

Anyways, thanks for the encouragement. More of my way older stuff to follow later...

Get that computer to me, I'll fix it for you guys

do you know about computers? my 2 computers are not working well

We'll get it to ya. I can't save anything to CD 'cause that's not working right, so I wanted to make sure that I don't have anything on there that I will loose if I don't find a way to save it...which takes a while cause I usually only have like 5 free minutes before the computer shuts itself down...twice it gave me 30 minutes, so I think I'm just about done. Thanks, btw.

Allrighty...here's some of my way old stuff back when I first really started playing around with words. I have evolved a little since most of these...I think.

on the edge of nothingness I
never thought it would be like this but
unforseen surges of quiet bliss rush through me in waves
crash over my head until I drown
just watch me now as I go down further into the
abyss of endlessnes and you know I am too late to save
me please before I fall if you can reach my hand at all
the years I spent fighting battles that I always lost
my head forgot what was the cost of living--dying
alone is my worst fear and I wish so bad that you were near
me now is it too much to ask of you to just forget my past
mistakes I made so many and I wallow in my shame ashamed
to ask for help and scared that I would be denied
the chance to redeem myself because i always was so blind
but now I see the consequence and know that it's too late
I'm late for a very important date with fate
controls my destiny and I was a sucker from the start
the fire that I must face and let it burn my heart
broken in pieces and where are all the King's horses and
all the King's men when I need them?

Just one more
I swear to God
Although I think
It's rather odd
I said the same thing yesterday
And here I sit--
Oh, wait, I stand
The bottle open
In my hand
I don't think
You will understand
So why don't you just go away?
Just something here
To ease the pain
To make me numb
To freeze my brain
Till I can't see
And I won't fear
The emptiness
That draws so near
That eats away
My inner soul
And leaves me
Shivring in the cold
Just anything to
Calm the growing
Fires of rage that
Are brightly glowing
The stench of
My lost innocence
Is louder now
Than I can bear.
It permeates the
breath I take
I swallow now
My body quakes
It's just one more
I had to take
To help me
soar into the air.
As silcence screams
Into the night
My loneliness alone
Takes flight
But soars right back
Into me right
Before I close the door.
And here I am
Just as before
I think I need to
Take one more.

Forgotten whispers echo silently
Buried in an avalanche of infinite darkness
Never to escape their icy tombs
Resolve to settle in for an eternity of night
Until flurries of time whisp through the memories,
Stir them...watch them float...let them settle once more.

Don't Wake Me Up

Whisful, and perhaps a bit foolish, I.
A dreamer, gliding down a foggy staircase.
Dewy gray mist of wonder before my eyes
Enchanted tinkling mystical chimes play in my head.
Makes me think of periwinkle and sugar gum drops
Sweet, silly fairytales, nursery rhymes...
Wings, marshmellows, rainy summer nights
When you can feel the aroma of the wind
As it glides across your face
Warm, soft cookies and a glass of cold milk
Down comforter fresh out of the dryer...
Distorted view of the world
And what it once was...
All that mattered.
What became of it?
What remains...?

cave

Just lie here for a little while
Don't be afraid -- indulge your urge
The demons with their crooked smiles
Lull you to sleep with your own dirge
And tell me now the whereabouts
Of your sacred secret catacomb
Where you go to leave yourself behind
When you feel the need to be alone
I've found the place that you abide
Your thoughts alone have let me in
This shelter where you run and hide
Ashamed of your own filthy skin
No time to lose now while we're here
Let's chase your furies down the hall
And don't forget your torch and spear
Our mission is to kill them all
The task at hand we consumate
Hear now the toiling of the bell
Complacent now to meet your fate
For all the roads here lead to hell.

Spit Me Out

Would you hate me if I told you I was angry?
I know you thought you'd keep me pacified forever.
I'm the one who's always s'posed to take the beating
Like it, shut up, be happy, take it again.
Can I get sick of being used
Or is that your exclusive right?
Mock my questions
Screw your answers
Don't you want me now that I'm not sweet?
Now that leave a bitter taste?
What's wrong, can't you find someone
To wash me down with?

Music of the Night

Wind whistling within the willow
Slowly silently slithering
Tremendous trees tower
Darkness descends deafeningly
Melodious music methodically
Lures lonely listless lovers
Glide gently gracefully
Into instrumental intercourse

Goodnight Kiss

Slightly intoxicated
By the taste of your lips
Breathless, you have stolen the air
Right out of my lungs

Tingling mixture of warmth and chill
Both at the same time
Completely enchanted by your touch
Wearing away at my skills of reason

You should, from now on, wear a shirt that says:
"Warning: May cause knees to weaken
Heart to flutter, and impare ability
To say goodnight and drive home."

Impossible

Try hard not to think a thought
Dream that you never dream
Or make a silent sound
Forget how to breathe
Clap with one hand
Cry without tears
Can you do it?
Love with
No fear.

Smoochin' on the beach

Incandescent shimmering whisps of moonlight
Swirl into synchrinization with the rhythm of the ocean.
Mezmerized, engulfed in deep crystal blue pools,
Liquid stars flow like silk through the abyss of night.
Warm summer breaths of sky caress smooth bare skin
And scatter my wind-tossed locks of golden hair across your shoulders.
Lingering touch, soft embrace, salty kiss of innocence
Two melt into one and I am captured.

Tragedy

Searching soul.
Plundering through an infinite web of mystery,
seeking to gather time along the way and failing;
The time is gone before it is gained.
No way to earn back the seconds spent like money on a Judas quest.
And what of your meaningless existence --
created to waste saline and tissues
over spilled words? We all have issues.
Too late to refuse to hear the lies.
Damage is done, and I lost the eraser.
Hold your breath, loose your grip
On reality to block out the pain.
Did you believe them?
If you do, it must be true...
Why is it such a tragedy to be you?

Say What?

Scattered thoughts collected,
I have it all together
A careless fleck of insanity
Mingled with poise.

Gleam in my eye
Can you see it?
Calculated spontenaity
Courageous fear to drown out the noise.

Answers to question
Lessons unlearned
Don't forget to turn the lights out
I'm afraid of the dark.

Engulfed in tranquil madness
Dried by waters of simplicity
Understood confusion,
Genuine synthetic spark.

Play

I can, when I close my eyes so tight
That images of color explode before me,
Still hear that song.
The one you played over and again
Until I cried
And begged you to reconsider.
Play me a song, play me for a fool, play it off,
But the game...
I just don't wanna play anymore.
Locked up tight in your palms,
So tight that your knuckles turn white
Is there a secret there that will escape?
Afraid of what it will whisper about you?
Complacent, melancholy, forgetful, and full of folly
Searing pain in my chest
Where the hole is that my heart once was in.
Put it back...pretty please? It's not your toy.
"What about the game?" you say...
I say...the game...
I just don't wanna play anymore.

Your Ticket

Muscles tense; inhale, release...
Lame, isn't it,
That I swab my tongue with xylocaine
To drown out the bitterness of you?
Greeted by smoke rings slithering across my skin (impressive)
Tingling, sickening, mortifying...and still I remain entraped.
Paralysed.
How did you find me?
I tried...so hard
Tiptoe softly across the hardwood floor
Lest the walls tattletale
Oiled the door hinges, darned squeaky door.
Should have bribed him too. (or killed him)
I thought surely I blended in well with the pattern on the couch
In your filthy den: mangled and faded -- worn.
Isn't that how you like me?
I protest -- detest -- the pleasurable wet warmth of your mouth...
Your weapon, your prize...and I kneel at your feet.
Abhoring and worshipping your holey socks
I am enchanting when I am at your mercy
Or did I transpose your words in my haste?
After all, you must speak slowly
In my inferior presence. S l o w l y...
Empty-headed freaks, cheery demons
Crack my window...tear off the shudders
Roll me in the molten wax
Scalding my wits, grinding my nerves...
And you laugh, sarcastically,
Amused at my feeble attempts to reconcile
My sense of shock -- or aftershock for all you care
For without my keen display of anguish
(Soley for your entertainment pleasure), what is left?
I hurt, therfore you are.

Skin Deep

To wax, or not to wax?
That is the question.
Whether 'tis noble to subject one
Of the human body's
Most fragile and vital organs (skin)
To scalding hot goo
For the sake of that
Silky smooth surface
Which mortals have so deemed
Sensuous...
To shave, or not to shave?
To run razor sharp, a blade of steel
Across the unsuspecting skin
To rid one of all unwanted,
Yet natural growth
Risking life and limb
And even much needed supply
Of blood...and for what?
Baldness???
To *pluck* or not to pluck...
Tear out, one by one
By the very root of their existence
Those pesky stray hairs that so
Precariously scatter themselves
And pop up in the
Most inconvenient of places --
Ripping them from their tiny folicles
And discarding them
As mere ashes to the wind...
'Tis a question that plagues
One that could cause
Even the soundest of minds
To go stark raving mad
With indecision
Anticipation
Of pain.
I ask you now,
Oh people:
Hair? Or Bare?

Sibling Rivalry

You smiled, though
I couldn't fathom
why. I didn't
feel a thing. Empty.
Swallowed by complacency.
I gasped, and the
numbness took hold.
Impossible, but the
corners of your
lips upturned further;
I wanted to be confused,
but couldn't muster.
Whisps of wind brushed
my cheek, but I only
knew because the lock
of hair stirred against
my skin. And you began
to grin. Teeth and
all. White where there
should have been color.
I could not recall the
emerald field, the blush
of rose. Where was the
essence of sweetness on
my toungue? I could not
comprehend the vast dark
swirls of ocean and the
roar of breakers' thunderous
crash. The warmpth of the
flickering flames dancing
atop the softness of the warm wax...
gone and forgotten.
Absence of the fragrance
of you. Turbulence raged
all about me, but I was still.
Did you speak at all?
I thought your lips moved...
How was I to know that you
wished me away with a single
breath? Blow out your candles
and watch me disappear.

Most of my older stuff is pretty dark, there...I just noticed that. haha.

But, you've been allowing us to see your journey to the light. Thank you for that. You have a great heart and a wonderful talent.

Thanks Michelle! You do have such a great talent, I just love reading your work!!

Took this one for a test run in GW...I thought it may have needed some reworking, but it seems to have been understood well enough.

Roadside Show

He would remain unseen through
his furtive night cloak,
but wide white eyes lined
with angry red tendrils betray
his position, drawing attention
to what the deluge of dusk
ardently conspires to conceal:
a haggard face redolent of disdain,
gnarled knuckes clenched bitterly,
deflated posture, and hunched back
draped in threadbare sweat soiled rags
that reek with fetid stench of
foolhearty ambition gone rancid
and carelessly squandered years.
Cracked, pasty lips part emitting
acrid, liquor-laced air;
his barely audible chants echo
eerily bouncing off rising steam
from heat-cracked asphault.
Head swaying back-forth, back-forth,
knotted greasy unkept braids
flail wildly in the air,
and his arms slowly, stealthily
creep upward as if to capture
the prey that only he can see.
The insane ritualistic dance
ensues until the fly, having
grown bored with his quarry,
abandons his current course
to pursue the nearest dung pile.
The tired transient closes
his once wide white eyes,
settling down with yesterday's
edition of the sports section
sheilding his nappy head
from the immenant attack
of nightly predatory bugs.

Forever Young

The glitter from her wings
Sprinkles throughout the air
And clings to everything
It touches.
I am struck with the thought that
The dust from mine
Most likely does the same.
The remnants I leave
In my wake long ago changed
From the sparkling, magical
Glimmer of fairy tales
To dull and lackluster
Spoor of sloughed off innocence
Unmet expectations
And harsh life experience.
Suddenly, I am slightly jealous.
But as I pout,
I wonder how could it be
That it is so easy for one to
Loose their whimsical youthfulness
Yet retain such a childish tendancy
As to sulk alone in the corner.
So now I think maybe
I have not forsaken Neverland--
Not completely -- and
While there is still just a gleam
Of hope to restore my former radiance
I sprint out into the yard
Leap into a pile of leaves,
Chase the "wishing flower" seeds
And turn a cartwheel (or two).
Ankle sprained, bottom bruised,
Eyes red from the pollen,
I retreat to the kitchen
Just in time to retrieve dinner
From the oven
Before it begins to look
Like the dust I tried to shake
From my wings.
Before I set the table,
I wipe glitter
From the placemats
And thank God
That He gave me
A fountain of youth
With plenty of sparkle to spare
Who will one day need
A good "dusting" of her own,
But for now, is quite content
To make little messes
And be fully confident
That I will come behind
To help her clean them up.
As I tuck my angel into bed,
I catch a glimpse of myself
In the mirror by her bed
And I see a twinkle.

Awesome sista!

Thanks. Been entering alot of stuff in my private notebook, but haven't posted any in a while. Figured I'd share a few of the newer ones.

Progress

The eager tingling tongue of Spring lapped
away at the stark, colorless blanket
of snow, exposing thin sheets of ice
beneath. I remained frozen, but you,
unlike the upcoming season, refused
to help me engage in a much needed
melt-down.

I know now that you knew
of my new found talent for shipping
well meaning meddlers off on a one-way
cruise to the island of remorse.
But then, with my diluted conscience
and deluded sense of self-entitlement,
I was dumbfounded at your seeming
lack of mercy.

I recall glowering at you,
stare so withering as to wilt even
evergreens that remained unscathed
through countless blizzards. You set out
a set of boundaries and stood firmly rooted,
like those trees; you did not succumb
to my tantrums. In spite of them,
you were at peace; the small piece of
satisfaction I sought through spite
became meaningless.

Warm tendrils of sunlight
coaxed reluctant pods from
their hibernation; as they yawned,
stretching green sprigs skyward,
I emerged from my
self-inflicted isolation as well.
In retrospect, I concede that
your lack of help was just
what I thought it was not;
it was due to the stubbornness
surging through your veins
that I relinquished my vain conceit.

Been doing a little poetry workshop, and one of the exercises is to write in iambic pentameter...it's kinda fun. Here's my product:

Extraction Woes

I don't know why we call them wisdom teeth.
There's nothing wise about them; I have found
third molars make you want to loose your mind.
They serve no purpose but to crowd the mouth.
The day you have them taken out I'll bet
you'll slurp on sloppy soup. You'll drool alot
and dribble drops on droopy lips. You'll ask
your mommy for more medicine and ice;
she will not recognize your puffy face.
I had the surgeon put mine in a jar
so I could see them when I start to sulk
and whine about the day I've had. So far,
it's changed my attitude. It helps me think
about the awful aches they used to cause.
So now -- third molar free -- I'm also wise,
and don't have such a hassle chewing steak.