7-16-11

Fingerprints melt across the sky,

Signs of your hand,

Each breath a motion.

Your hair,

In tangles,

Silhouetted against the

Backdrop of your genius.

Little children

Fly through empty heights

Hunting for their next delight.

Echoing around your feelers,

Friendly glowing lights

Inviting me to come.

They're singing for you,

My love,

These tiny bow-legged brothers.

They fill in notes I forget,

Taking up my stolid slack.

The whole orchestra crescendos

And while I sit,

Eaten alive,

Your gentleness surrounds me.

Lover I Don't Have To Love

I was walking down the street and I saw a cat in a tree. He sat there, smiling through green glass eyes, black as night, with diamonds sparkling round his throat. He spoke, trying to gain my understanding through a language I never knew. I wish I had. I wanted to listen, to help the trapped cat – afraid of heights and too stubborn to admit it. He kept calling, begging my assistance, so I dialed 911, but no one answered. I guess the world was full of real emergencies. Ones that didn’t involve me.

My heart lived in that tree, stuck there with that cat. I stared at him, he stared at me. I think an hour passed, or maybe only ten minutes. I glanced over the bark, its ridges telling a history I wasn’t old enough to remember. Only nineteen, only a girl, still caged in by the ideologies of my parents. My insides revolting against them, rotting away in silent cynicism. A breeze blew by, I didn’t notice, except my hair broke the contest. I lost, averting my eyes while trying to tame the fire flowing around me.

The tree, a species unknown to me, stood gloating at my folly, at my helplessness. Its leaves, the deep green of late summer, asked me to touch them, though I refrained, afraid to show my impropriety. Each one had a number, a name, a life separate from those around it, and their black master presided over them all. He wasn’t a captive, merely captivated. When the breeze threw one or two of his subjects in his face he swatted them away, punishing them for their forwardness. He stared down, haughty on his lofty throne. I was a bug, a mere inconvenience, nothing for the great king to trifle with. Hurt, I tuned and started to walk away.

He called again, this time louder than before, a plaintive cry – maybe he was trapped more than I thought. Maybe he wasn’t really in control. Maybe everything I thought was a lie.

I ran back, reaching for him and his glistening collar bones and he leapt, five feet between us. He flew like a raven, like a seal in water, straight towards me, determination and anger creasing his eyes. I was wrong.

He wanted to smother me. He wanted to steal my soul. I wasn’t ready to die. I closed my eyes and caught him by his jewels, a loud crack resounding with the fall. There was no cat. The bracelet rested on my finger, its owner missing.

I stood, staring at the gift in my palm, placing it tenderly on my wrist, letting it catch the mid-morning sunlight. Its brilliance blinded me. I smiled, then faltered. What did I do to deserve this? Why was such a precious gift entrusted to me? I glanced around, worried someone saw the exchange, paranoid of my jealous neighbors, particular the witch who lived in the house this tree belonged to. I had already stolen one of her possessions without her knowledge; I don’t think she’d bear the loss of two.

One of her little brats came outside and I felt the bile, so I ran. I ran hard. I don’t think she saw me, but she saw him, lying in the grass with his empty green eyes, cherry smeared lips, and barren neck. I heard the scream follow me down the road but I didn’t stop running. I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t stop.

Tea Today

I bleed out

cushions

entwining my back,

roots of tubes

shoot forth from

my thighs.

He merely sits and stares.

I'm consumed

by Godric's greatest frenzy

switching

black to white,

moldy grey

gone.

He stares through green glass eyes.

Blue stains

entrap my arm,

the baby's lost

in thickets

full of

puce-ish flowers.

His eyes that never knew.

Sinking down

through half-formed

thoughts -

rough weaves,

writing sits unread

crying for attention

I give to Matt instead.

He leaves me with those eyes,

forgetting my once live state,

seeing only pools

of human non-existence.

Mallory Malloy

I am a Ghost.

Mallory Malloy.

Melding into faux leather

Turning green to match my ire.

Who is she?

That strange thing crouched in the trash can

Waiting to burst forth,

Buried in a sea of paper towels.

She's bleeding pity

On those pale pink walls

Seven called about,

But the endless barrage of cattle

Never hear over their

Noisy swallows and timed defecations

While staring at those same pink stalls,

Chewing over last's months columns.

Paradise sits above her horizon

Teasing worn out eyes

With their failed attempt at spreading God

Through glimpses of our own created Eden -

My own eyes close with vines,

Grass grows out my ears,

She took her belongings with her

Leaving me boxed on spinning wood

Without saying goodbye.

I am a Ghost.

Maurice - Part 1

There's a man following me,

Always lurking

On the edge of unconsciousness,

Floating three feet higher than he should.

I haven't decided if it's God,

Or Dad,

Or Great Uncle Percy-

Who's bookcase lives

In the bedroom on the left

Under a display of poisonous teacups -

Or maybe none of the above.

My overly vivid imagination

Tricks my eyes on

More than one occasion.

Still,

His image,

Not nearly as frightening as hers -

That terrible woman last night

Who tried to eat me whole -

Is a constant companion,

A chilling Maurice,

Warning me of a future

Even he couldn't escape.

Evening Drive

Air hair cuts spiderwebs in my neck,

With sixty miles of wind at work,

Each end a scabbard sharp, unsheathed.

Hello strand whose name I know,

You've blocked leftover graves

Keeping them at bay,

Simultaneously calling me closer.

He hasn't spoke in four years time,

That old cricket-

The one I've known for years-

Crawled out of his unmarked grave

And into my passenger side glass,

Singing while a stranger's lights

Fly closer,

Over stains of people who were,

Ominously bright.

I am no deer.

I open up,

Harmonizing with a monster I never met,

Not till this night.

It's beauty takes my breath,

Sound, blue black,

Floats away behind her.

Edith wraps round my head,

Working her way inside

Through visions on my skin,

Stealing my expected solitude

Not knowing why she came,

While a silver slab sits idly by.

now

Our currency

sides in teas,

and flowing fabrics,

and thousands of

hundred dollar shoes

only worn for

one weak time

causing so much pain,

but torture

willingly permitted

is really an

ill-fated quest

to recapture what we were.

May 5th

Sweet breath lingers long

After those grassy waves ceased cresting,

Flowing, through the

Alcoves and annexes

of my mind.

Finding hidden places-

I never meant to expose.

Waiting, at Nature's head,

For some sign of disapproval

That still has yet to come.

Seeping in hidden poison

Curled against the edges of their tongues,

Wrapped in clouds stretching thin with time.

Sealing my sight,

Inside a tangle of lights and limbs,

Releasing my secret heart

Through syllables spoken low and languid

Between your body and mine,

Creating perfection

For this moment's life.

5-5

Love me lightly, pure and true,

Love me gently in all you do,

Love me with your hands and eyes,

Love me under fading skies.

The Book

Hold, my heart-

my September heart-

in my hands,

a moment

held captive,

green,

leathery,

covered in

left-over spring.

A gift

never given,

not from

this point of view.

Growing with months,

three quarters full,

until I

shut

down

with the last leaf

hoping to keep secret

the sacred side

of me.

I gave you

my September soul

all wrapped up

in brown,

edited

hastily down,

a copy of

my once true self.

I want to keep

this greenery.

Still it burns up

my hands,

arms,

to that place

where memory resides,

behind beats

and below breath.

I pack it away

saved

for another time,

for now is

too soon to renew

my September self.

You Talk of Beauty

Diana gazes down,

Streaming in delight

At our late night wanderings.

Teasing, touching,

Laughing at those suicidal

little boys,

Their lives seeping away

through their smoke,

Who stare-

obviously jealous-

of your pretty park-mate.

Your eyes find mine amidst the

Moonlight-

A knowing glance.

You talk of beauty

And it means so much more

from a man of few words.

4-26

Wishing to race across open fields

In this early summer,

Same as before,

I stop. Catch my breath

Before we've even begun.

I start once more,

Taking measured steps,

You offer your hand.

Each time I try to fly

You pull me back

Into strong, knowing arms.

To break me would be your worst regret.

Calming me with cool kisses

Across my neck and shoulders,

You whisper sense back into my

Desensitized brain,

Slowly awakening a beauty

I never knew.

Through the tips of our

Intertwined hands you speak

Consonants full of nails and teeth,

Vowels sweet with sweat and sun,

Inviting me to sit,

enjoy, luxuriate in

These too soon summer days.

semi-same

The difference of our semi-same beginnings

Grows vaster with the days.

Black scratches fading in these new

New shining mornings.

A year and yet he's with me still.

A year and yet I've learned his will.

Who knew that moments such as these

Could cover pains of forced betrayal.

You never meant to wound me.

You never knew your way...

I'm back to thoughts of these brand new beginnings.

Better than the last.

Calmer than the dew.

A normal beginning...

This is something completely new.

I gave up...

...on the 30 for April project. Obviously. School/finals overtook my life, so sadly I stopped having time to update this. That doesn't mean I stopped writing though, just not as much as I was. I have some things I'm working on, some new things to post soon... should be some good stuff happening :)

12 aka Gray Daze

Blue wraps slowly round my throat

Cutting air, in leaves I float.

Blinding me those selfish screams.

Yes, it sees itself in creams.

Daisies, Daisies,

raining down

Through the walls,

around, around.

Light and dark,

Dark and blue,

Did I really choose this view?

Blue floods everything,

Blue on blue,

Piles forming thick as lead,

Dropping heavy on my head,

my bead,

my fed,

on all the red,

my dead,

my dead,

my dead,

my dead.

And yet-

I lay.

Unmoved.

I think I felt a breeze roll in...

What's this film slick across my skin?

Blue, blue,

daisy blue.

Dead skin coats books I once knew.

Friends when no one liked the view.

Staring blankly on my form,

Clara never causes harm.

Clara keeps me safe and warm.

Glassy views she showed a girl

Teaching her to love to twirl,

To whirl,

To whirl,

Against her might.

No, you never changed my sight,

No, you never saw the plight,

the kite,

the bite,

the words alight,

the fight,

the fight,

the fight,

the fight,

And yet-

I lay.

Unmoved.

11

Liquid bronze

Slowly fills my belly,

Pulsing, quietly

Lit from within.

The easy warmth

Climbs my spine,

Permeating my being;

Inducing a calm joy

To last the day.

10

The Truth within

Held, to keep sacred

Won't leave my mind.

The calming peace

that follows

Floods me with

quite joy.

I will save

these moments

As a reminder

of all that's

Beautiful

and

Right

In the World.

9

Today

Is a day,

Is a day.

DRUMS.

Accept.

Accept.

Accept.

Accept.

Except-

I don't know why.

Where do I go?

I go.

I go.

8

Glitter sharply cuts my sight,

Lost amongst those moves...

Why would he even want to sing

Words he stole from my teenage self?

This is a sad sad state,

To watch the peacocks strut,

Cringing at their electric screeches.

They burn my ears.

No matter what that trio says

We all know who it truly is.

Their lies a facet of negotiations

Held behind fake wooden doors

Which we weren't supposed to see.

7

In a rush of sequins and sass

I'm learning to let go;

While they rub my under arms raw,

Leaving scars of their impressiveness,

Scratching off my pride.

It's not too late to accept this.

Finding my anger and anguish and anxiousness

Melting away, I cringe.

The well known giddiness takes it's place.

I am not ready to feel again,

But it seems the choice's been stolen from me.

It's not too late to accept this.

Breathing, out and in,

Out and in, I relax.

Letting waves of joy wash over and through me.

They flood Celeste till she flares and blinds

Those drunken ones who fell of their spires.

It's not too late to accept this.

These wild hypotheticals run around with

The pitter-patter of tiny feet,

Dancing under a silver moon

Placed ahead for you and I;

I can't fight this tide.

6

You remind me of me,

The me I used to be,

Back before the fall.

Before I lost the stillness inside.

Before I lost my sight...

or maybe after.

There's too much to tell.

You complain about the space

But it's funny,

Because even when I have lines

I barely ever stay in them.

You say that's me:

"Freedom, even with boundaries"

Though I prefer to see it as

Freedom, in spite of boundaries.

Since I never stay inside.

You know,

I wanted to write this about a

Red truck.

One I saw crashing down new

That made me think of something

He once said

About his misguided fantasies.

Instead you distracted me.

...for a little while.

Reality hits.

Listen to me:

Enjoy the space.

Realize there's beauty within freedom

And cruelty in those lines.

Don't let these truths restrain you.

5

Appeasing the masses,

Healing myself.

Why did it go this far?

I don't know my meanings.

I don't know my lies.

Where did all the agony go?

Why did all this dark red appear?

Where is my laughter, my smiles,

my anguish, my sighs,

and the silky-smooth feel of you

against me?

My lies- my lies betrayed me.

I counted on their mirrors

but instead found

they lied right back.

But now I've come full circle,

I'm standing in truth,

make of me what you may.

I'll stay here for a day,

or year,

or maybe finally it's real.

4 from 4/4

4

1

Madness is Beautiful.

Destruction is Beautiful.

Everything is Beautiful

...in its own time.

I allure through the epitome of each.

2

I have not seen him

in quite some time.

He sleeps above me

whistling through the past

to hit me square in the back.

With his turpentine dagger

he draws a reconciliation

without consent.

3

See it shine.

Shine down on me.

Blinding burdens

missing for so long.

She caresses my bruising body

comforting and pricking

all at once.

4

Your screeches resonate hours after silence

curdling my soul in disgust.

Everything about you repulses me.

How can you ask me to love

a thing equivalent to the

centipede crawling up the walls

skittering away at any sign of disturbance.

Pitiful and pathetic,

wounded and annoyed,

I don't care if your mother never loved you.

I don't care that you crave approval of your peers.

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

I am not the one.

1, 2, 3 on 3!!!

1

Grey Goose running down the sides of Whitford,

or maybe it was grove.

I can't see past this morning's whitewash.

The joke lost on my friends and

I'm left to stare in wonder.

Grey Goose running down her eyelids,

glass encasing precious wares.

She leads me always leaning starboard

while cracking pavement waves,

I sail.

2

Ringing in resistance to your overpowering silence.

Screeches blaring in the background,

worshipers gather in their frenzied rituals.

In reality he's only a boy

sitting quietly on his own

wishing to be anywhere but here

under this lying banner

claiming a name for him not his own.

I stare, drawn into the fray of faceless men.

How many walk by me today?

Flattery lost on the deaf,

but she sang my thoughts

as I cheered and danced

loving the sound of my anger.

I wish I could remember his name.

It was trampled under the feet

of all the others

who smiled and swooned

at a few well-placed words.

This is my job for a reason.

Still, this day wasn't bad

even with the quick bit of poison.

I passed the point of living

and made it out alive.

I guess that's all I can ask for

on a day like this

with a sky like that.

3

In my aged despair of the loss of something that never existed

I use the mockery of myself to fulfill the gap.

My life - more serious than most

for such a short span - a tragedy I can only combat

through humor - even at the cost of my reputation.

I have no thought for myself.

You concern confuses.

You see, I act the bird but love to burrow -

nothing pleases me more than the solace of solitude

or getting lost in a world of my own creation

peopled by strangers who barely know me

it's easy to pretend.

Reality - a word with no meaning - at least at this

point in time.

I realize now these words seem morbid and cliché

but I can't think of anything better to describe my life thus far.

I am one giant cliché and I've faced death enough

to allow for my morbid mentality.

He's not so pretty when seen in another's eyes.

This poem ended long ago

and yet I continue to spew forth meaningless symbols

in an attempt to express myself or something greater

but I can't find the code to decipher what it is.

Now I must go,

forced into a part I never wished to play

to entice an audience I care nothing for.

Tremefy

A mixture of heat and noise

Tremefies my vision.

All the world in dizzy union

working to rip away my sight.

My hands,

My hands,

How they tremble below me!

Adrenaline courses through my veins

As buildings fall all around,

People rush about their days,

Ignoring destruction,

Oblivious to motion.

Sevidical

Your eyes,

I gaze into,

sensing my lack of emotion.

There's nothing to be done.

So I say all I can,

using my sevidical tongue

to slash at your reaching arms.

My words are all I have

to protect me from you

and the end I fear

worse than death.

Your eyes,

I see the tears,

and gag at your pitifulness.

You try to touch me,

so I sling more poison

at your face,

covering my own wounds.

Poor boy,

so innocent,

so young,

so disgusting.

Drollic

Cutting the twisted strings

which force my dance,

to free me of this drollic.

Standing on my own,

finding without control

I have no sense of direction.

My legs give beneath me,

I lay a crumpled mess.

Their hold was far greater

than I gave them credit.

Prebition

The prebition of my heart

lays before you,

overwhelming.

You accept

without knowing why...

The offer,

the sacrifice,

you never bothered to question,

before it started melting away,

Slipping through you.

Your bones trying desperately

to prevent the loss

Of a token never taken fully.

The prebition of my heart,

a mistake I realized

long before you could keep it,

I tore it back.

Clawed away your begging skin,

broke the cage of ribs you hid it in,

watched you bleed

from your own decisions.

The prebition of my heart

will go before another

greater and grander

than any before,

because I've learned

from my past

to not make the mistakes

of my future.

So here it will remain

with the only one

it ever really loved

until its beating cease.

Ephydriad

Misguided little ephydriad,

Freezing quickly with the fog,

Wailing her jeremiad,

Her woes dissipating in the smog.

She cannot swim in water's sister,

Its semi-solid form denies

Her of her true love, Ocean's mister,

Squalls bring forth her dying cry.

Magistricide

Rusty iron in my hands

Or the one around my head?

I shove you in the stove instead,

Tired of hearing your demands.

Struggle onward, silly man

You cannot fight the pulling tide.

Submit to this magistricide,

Not within your melting plan.

Baking quickly as you lie

Limp and heavy in my arms.

You could not resist my charms.

How foolishly you learned to die.

Temerate

Turning back on what you see,

Temerating all your vows to me.

Standing, stranded in your hate,

Waiting for it to abate.

Finding, as you cast your eyes

Upon the product of your lies,

That misery from the fallen streams.

This face will surely haunt your dreams.

Mitescent

Passion, so sweet

In small amounts,

Drained me

From the doses of

Those faded days,

And now I find

It's time to

Change and

Recharge.

My mitescent mood,

A peaceful dream

After so long spent

At each extreme,

Guides me into this

Next phase

And holds sway

Over my

Logically informed

Decisions.

I face the oncoming

Months with ardor.

An excitement

At the waiting calm

With no storm

To follow,

At least none

That I can

Perceive.

Fester and burn,

Like the movie we watch

While trees split

In the wind

Without making a sound.

Smoke seeps through the cracks

And plastic melts,

Leaving its horrible stench

On my clothes,

Lying tracks down my spine

With touches of pins and needles

That should be cleaned,

And in the background

Life's anthem plays.

You never sleep, sweet.

Just watch me lie,

Oh, watch me die.

You tangle your fingers

Through my silky wheat hair.

Tear,

Pull like nothing's there.

'til I'm apart, bleeding, and rare.

Why won't you sleep, sweet?

Don't watch me lie.

Don't watch me die.