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?