Wicked! Can you believe it's been two years to the day since I started this blog? Incredible! I now have over 220 posts, over 50 poems, and the beginning of a novella all on this site. I am so proud of my fledgling blog.
Take a bow, hummingbird!
Sunday, 31 July 2005
HAPPY BIRTHDAY HUMMINGBIRD!
HAPPY SECOND BIRTHDAY TO HUMMINGBIRD GOES BUCKNUTTY!
Wicked! Can you believe it's been two years to the day since I started this blog? Incredible! I now have over 220 posts, over 50 poems, and the beginning of a novella all on this site. I am so proud of my fledgling blog.
Take a bow, hummingbird!
Temporary Soundtrack: Where Do You Go To (My Lovely)? by Peter Sarstedt.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "I put a spell on you...Because you're mine...You’re mine..." from I Put a Spell On You by Screamin' Jay Hawkins.
Wicked! Can you believe it's been two years to the day since I started this blog? Incredible! I now have over 220 posts, over 50 poems, and the beginning of a novella all on this site. I am so proud of my fledgling blog.
Take a bow, hummingbird!
Friday, 29 July 2005
Drawn
She's twisting her jewellery again.
Making a carnival ride that twirls
ever faster and more frenzied
between knuckle and joint.
"I'd like to draw you two together"
she says, languidly and offhand.
Reclining by the pond, staring at the sun.
Match your fiancé's flattered leer.
Turn in time to catch a flicker
darkness stirring in her pupils
but it lifts along with her cheeks.
You dismiss it as refracted light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somehow you end up artfully posed
draped around one another
arms and legs intertwined
perched on his lap so naturally.
Her swift, graceful hands make
as good a place as any to stare.
She has moved that thin silver band
from middle finger to index.
You remember it hugging her skin
when it used to fit where it should.
Counting back, you realize it's been
too long since you've seen her eat.
Questions die on your lips;
she requires absolute stillness.
She's working on the face, you see.
Look at each other and smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Admitting your unabashed greed
you lie in wait inside your door
kiss her to the wall until she submits
pretend she wasn't late to the tryst.
Charcoal marks brushed on your arms
not as dark as the bruises you leave
shading the landscape of her skin
nor the shadows floating under her lashes
She comes fresh from depicting you
locked proudly in another's embrace
Taking her smudged and dusty-eyed
feeds into your desire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thin square leaning against the front door
She hates the ceremony of giving gifts.
As exquisite as expected, with one weary
note of hunger in your devoted gaze.
Send her flowers, must remember
The two of you stand transfixed
poring over each complex detail.
It has become your new obsession.
Nail it to the wall in a place of honor
paper eyes watching your dented pillow.
The fight for its possession becomes
another excuse to stir the blankets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She eludes your warm grasp at dawn
Sliding from under covers to lick the window
Searching for a snowflake in all this heat
She wants to know if he liked it.
You wax poetic, rising half-asleep
to fondle her ribs and pull her back down.
You swear the gods carved her from ice
with ridges placed for your touch.
Abandon the embrace to caress and trace
every detail of smooth canvas.
Mesmerized by shadows and forms, you
ignore her lips seeking yours for once.
Thin hand presses your nose to canvas
lines crossing themselves like nuns
Nothing can remain perfect this close up
hissed in your ear especially not lovers.
Lust lowers your eyelids; you reach out
such a tease, no need to be shy now.
Footsteps creak, cloth rustles, doors shut.
Empty Air. A child denied its toy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only picture you have of her:
a self-portrait sketched on your sheets
etched into your bed as a hollow
where her figure used to lay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is dedicated to the one I mock...What? <-- More Poetic Ramblings
Making a carnival ride that twirls
ever faster and more frenzied
between knuckle and joint.
"I'd like to draw you two together"
she says, languidly and offhand.
Reclining by the pond, staring at the sun.
Match your fiancé's flattered leer.
Turn in time to catch a flicker
darkness stirring in her pupils
but it lifts along with her cheeks.
You dismiss it as refracted light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somehow you end up artfully posed
draped around one another
arms and legs intertwined
perched on his lap so naturally.
Her swift, graceful hands make
as good a place as any to stare.
She has moved that thin silver band
from middle finger to index.
You remember it hugging her skin
when it used to fit where it should.
Counting back, you realize it's been
too long since you've seen her eat.
Questions die on your lips;
she requires absolute stillness.
She's working on the face, you see.
Look at each other and smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Admitting your unabashed greed
you lie in wait inside your door
kiss her to the wall until she submits
pretend she wasn't late to the tryst.
Charcoal marks brushed on your arms
not as dark as the bruises you leave
shading the landscape of her skin
nor the shadows floating under her lashes
She comes fresh from depicting you
locked proudly in another's embrace
Taking her smudged and dusty-eyed
feeds into your desire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thin square leaning against the front door
She hates the ceremony of giving gifts.
As exquisite as expected, with one weary
note of hunger in your devoted gaze.
Send her flowers, must remember
The two of you stand transfixed
poring over each complex detail.
It has become your new obsession.
Nail it to the wall in a place of honor
paper eyes watching your dented pillow.
The fight for its possession becomes
another excuse to stir the blankets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She eludes your warm grasp at dawn
Sliding from under covers to lick the window
Searching for a snowflake in all this heat
She wants to know if he liked it.
You wax poetic, rising half-asleep
to fondle her ribs and pull her back down.
You swear the gods carved her from ice
with ridges placed for your touch.
Abandon the embrace to caress and trace
every detail of smooth canvas.
Mesmerized by shadows and forms, you
ignore her lips seeking yours for once.
Thin hand presses your nose to canvas
lines crossing themselves like nuns
Nothing can remain perfect this close up
hissed in your ear especially not lovers.
Lust lowers your eyelids; you reach out
such a tease, no need to be shy now.
Footsteps creak, cloth rustles, doors shut.
Empty Air. A child denied its toy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only picture you have of her:
a self-portrait sketched on your sheets
etched into your bed as a hollow
where her figure used to lay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is dedicated to the one I mock...What? <-- More Poetic Ramblings
Wednesday, 27 July 2005
Half-Breed?
Your Beauty lies
in Contradiction. Controversial, unpredictable, and never what anyone expects.
You appearance and your personality are two opposite things. Even your appearance sends different signals to different people. To some you may look innocent and sweet, to others you look mysterious and intimidating at the same time. No one ever knows what to expect with you.
You are a little bit of everything all mixed together. You can be watching a football game with the guys one minute and the next out shopping at a mall.
You seem to be almost a different person every time you meet someone, butat the same time you know exactly who you are and there is always that one thing that makes you you. You enjoy keeping people guessing and people love how completely unpredictable you are.
Some Things
That Represent You:
Element:
Fire, Water Animal: Chameleon Color:
Dark Tones, Light
Tones Song: Everything by Alanis Morriesette
Expression:
Half-smile
Gemstone:
Opal Mythological Creature: Gryphon,
Half-breeds Planet: Mars Hair
Color: Red Eye Color:
Brown
Quote:
"Appearances can be deceiving."
Where Does Your Beauty Lie? Detailed Results.
brought to you by Quizilla
Tuesday, 26 July 2005
Reptile
Every high-noon night
is just cold enough
that he dances to feel
heat move within him.
One body to body collision
is all it takes to break him.
Jarring loose the memory
of coveting hands
slick with sweat
stroking him
dulling his polish.
His sure steps falter
as his body quick-shakes
and he can't meet
even his own gaze
in the mirror.
As he cuts the fingerprints
out of his own flesh
Strata of shame
pile up on the ground
like discarded layers
of reptile skins.
Shells he has outgrown
while searching for a home.
None survive more than one season
The bitterness he swallows
rots them away
from the inside out.
He holds thin husks
up to the light,
turning them over and over;
searching for some meaning.
Seeing runes and figures
in careless scratches.
Finding significance
in the number of scales
he once wore.
Swaddled in a nightmare
his fingers clutch too hard
He wakes to feel dust
sliding between his palms
and waits for dark.
Slithering and slinking
his way across the floor,
he tastes out a rhythm with his tongue
Jagged snippets of shell
bite his heels.
Willfully, he closes pounding ears
to suggestions of ways
- more conventional, more vile -
of keeping the ice
out of his smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~
Godzilla has nothing on this monster... <-- Yet More Poetry
is just cold enough
that he dances to feel
heat move within him.
One body to body collision
is all it takes to break him.
Jarring loose the memory
of coveting hands
slick with sweat
stroking him
dulling his polish.
His sure steps falter
as his body quick-shakes
and he can't meet
even his own gaze
in the mirror.
As he cuts the fingerprints
out of his own flesh
Strata of shame
pile up on the ground
like discarded layers
of reptile skins.
Shells he has outgrown
while searching for a home.
None survive more than one season
The bitterness he swallows
rots them away
from the inside out.
He holds thin husks
up to the light,
turning them over and over;
searching for some meaning.
Seeing runes and figures
in careless scratches.
Finding significance
in the number of scales
he once wore.
Swaddled in a nightmare
his fingers clutch too hard
He wakes to feel dust
sliding between his palms
and waits for dark.
Slithering and slinking
his way across the floor,
he tastes out a rhythm with his tongue
Jagged snippets of shell
bite his heels.
Willfully, he closes pounding ears
to suggestions of ways
- more conventional, more vile -
of keeping the ice
out of his smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~
Godzilla has nothing on this monster... <-- Yet More Poetry
Friday, 22 July 2005
Of all things...
If I needed to
would you let me hurt you?
You must understand,
this is what I am:
a destroyer
of all things perfect and solid,
clean and whole.
I will push too hard
slice too deep
to the marrow
down to the core
right through that palpitating heart
and out the other side.
My looking-glass is red,
I say conversationally
and constricts so painfully.
Emerging deaf and blind
with closed eyes and covered ears,
I wallow in you.
I swallow the veins in my mouth.
Prickling and rough,
as pleasant as the bending of thorns.
And no simple trip
through your soul
can change me.
You are pathetic.
You manage to be sympathetic
while bleeding to death.
You grasp my hand
as I rise to leave you:
One last kiss...
then blood-stained lips
mark my forehead.
If I had a conscience
I would wait until you died
to wipe you away.
You would let me do this?
Yes, I imagine you would.
I know you.
I recognize your kind,
reciting your blind faith
to a rosary of daisies.
I love you.
I love you not.
But I need you
to let me tear you apart.
At least, until I find
a new lamb that won't run
from the altar.
One that will mince and waltz
carouse and gambol
between the wildflowers, leaping
without crushing a single petal.
No matter the color of its wool,
it will appear to me
as a delicious red cloud,
sitting on its hind heels,
disintegrating blossoms
petal by petal and stem by stem.
With luck, I will have
no need to hide, bide my time.
Indeed, you came to me so easily,
your trust smelling of sweet-clover.
I gave the barest of smiles;
you fell in my lap.
No fairy tale
has ever told the truth:
Of all things terrible and evil,
the most dangerous of these
are the pretty ones.
Incandescent, fascinating, hypnotic.
But treacherous and tricksy as a spider web.
Wild daisies with thorns
as long as swords
and twice
as hard as steel.
~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
'Twas a dark and stormy metonymy... <-- More Poems
would you let me hurt you?
You must understand,
this is what I am:
a destroyer
of all things perfect and solid,
clean and whole.
I will push too hard
slice too deep
to the marrow
down to the core
right through that palpitating heart
and out the other side.
My looking-glass is red,
I say conversationally
and constricts so painfully.
Emerging deaf and blind
with closed eyes and covered ears,
I wallow in you.
I swallow the veins in my mouth.
Prickling and rough,
as pleasant as the bending of thorns.
And no simple trip
through your soul
can change me.
You are pathetic.
You manage to be sympathetic
while bleeding to death.
You grasp my hand
as I rise to leave you:
One last kiss...
then blood-stained lips
mark my forehead.
If I had a conscience
I would wait until you died
to wipe you away.
You would let me do this?
Yes, I imagine you would.
I know you.
I recognize your kind,
reciting your blind faith
to a rosary of daisies.
I love you.
I love you not.
But I need you
to let me tear you apart.
At least, until I find
a new lamb that won't run
from the altar.
One that will mince and waltz
carouse and gambol
between the wildflowers, leaping
without crushing a single petal.
No matter the color of its wool,
it will appear to me
as a delicious red cloud,
sitting on its hind heels,
disintegrating blossoms
petal by petal and stem by stem.
With luck, I will have
no need to hide, bide my time.
Indeed, you came to me so easily,
your trust smelling of sweet-clover.
I gave the barest of smiles;
you fell in my lap.
No fairy tale
has ever told the truth:
Of all things terrible and evil,
the most dangerous of these
are the pretty ones.
Incandescent, fascinating, hypnotic.
But treacherous and tricksy as a spider web.
Wild daisies with thorns
as long as swords
and twice
as hard as steel.
~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
'Twas a dark and stormy metonymy... <-- More Poems
Thursday, 21 July 2005
Verse Status
The following poems have been updated. Listed below are titles and one of my favorite lines in each poem.
The A in Egypt "even her lullabies pitch and keen instead of croon"
And I Am... "all this awkward fumbling, trying to fit together puzzle pieces of flesh."
Goddess "She idly wishes for a tourniquet for the weather"
Licorice "Even alone I feel like licorice, with ridges shifting below my skin."
Navigation "You are the only thing, living or still, that I cannot seem to disassemble"
Pretty Things "Shiva, baby, can you tell me why is it always the pretty things that we so dearly love to destroy?"
Today "Under the intermittent sun, where Our feet tickled the mountain's backbone"
Unicorn Bones "I glow supernova-bright like an acid-tripping firefly even in daylight."
Vertebrae "I confess I want you most when breaking."
Temporary Soundtrack: What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor?, a traditional sea chanty (or shanty, if you prefer). Thank you very much, L.B. I hold you fully responsible for this.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "Love comes down any way it wants to. Doesn't ask for your permission. Open up your arms, or it will break you in two." from Dracula Moon by Joan Osborne.
The A in Egypt "even her lullabies pitch and keen instead of croon"
And I Am... "all this awkward fumbling, trying to fit together puzzle pieces of flesh."
Goddess "She idly wishes for a tourniquet for the weather"
Licorice "Even alone I feel like licorice, with ridges shifting below my skin."
Navigation "You are the only thing, living or still, that I cannot seem to disassemble"
Pretty Things "Shiva, baby, can you tell me why is it always the pretty things that we so dearly love to destroy?"
Today "Under the intermittent sun, where Our feet tickled the mountain's backbone"
Unicorn Bones "I glow supernova-bright like an acid-tripping firefly even in daylight."
Vertebrae "I confess I want you most when breaking."
Wednesday, 20 July 2005
Graveyard Blues
I'm going down to the graveyard, baby.
Going down to dig my grave.
Said I'm goin' down by the graveyard, baby.
Down to dig my own grave.
You brought me to this, darling,
when you told me that our love,
it could not be saved.
Going down to the graveyard, honey.
Gonna lay me down in my grave.
Walking round the graveyard, honey.
Gonna lay my bones down in this grave.
The ghosts're wailin' all around me, sugar,
but I'm too low down to be afraid.
And if I rise up, rise up someday
I will kiss the cloudbursts and fly away
If I see you walking with your new lover
I'll send some storm clouds your way
I've made myself a bed of bones, baby.
Gonna rest my head down to sleep.
Made me a bed of bones, baby.
Gonna lie here in this grave and sleep.
I always knew you wanted me gone,
Gone now, so far gone, child.
I just didn't know
you wanted me six feet deep.
(And I will rise up, rise up someday
Kiss the cloudbursts and fly away
When I see you walking with your new lover
I'll make it rain on your wedding day)
~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
Whew! Finally got it out of my head. What can I say? I think we should go back to having parties in graveyards.
Going down to dig my grave.
Said I'm goin' down by the graveyard, baby.
Down to dig my own grave.
You brought me to this, darling,
when you told me that our love,
it could not be saved.
Going down to the graveyard, honey.
Gonna lay me down in my grave.
Walking round the graveyard, honey.
Gonna lay my bones down in this grave.
The ghosts're wailin' all around me, sugar,
but I'm too low down to be afraid.
And if I rise up, rise up someday
I will kiss the cloudbursts and fly away
If I see you walking with your new lover
I'll send some storm clouds your way
I've made myself a bed of bones, baby.
Gonna rest my head down to sleep.
Made me a bed of bones, baby.
Gonna lie here in this grave and sleep.
I always knew you wanted me gone,
Gone now, so far gone, child.
I just didn't know
you wanted me six feet deep.
(And I will rise up, rise up someday
Kiss the cloudbursts and fly away
When I see you walking with your new lover
I'll make it rain on your wedding day)
~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
Whew! Finally got it out of my head. What can I say? I think we should go back to having parties in graveyards.
Tuesday, 19 July 2005
How Now, Purple Personality
Your personality is Purple.
Purple is the artist in your soul. Purple is for
poets and painters. Purple is the ever-thinking
mind and the quite mouth. Purple is the enigma.
Purple is theories and every deep expression or
belief. Purple opens the gate to other worlds.
Purple is the wonderer. Purple is a myterious
genius.
But if the truth be known, there is a little of
every color in us all.
What Color Is Your Personality?
brought to you by Quizilla
Purple is the artist in your soul. Purple is for
poets and painters. Purple is the ever-thinking
mind and the quite mouth. Purple is the enigma.
Purple is theories and every deep expression or
belief. Purple opens the gate to other worlds.
Purple is the wonderer. Purple is a myterious
genius.
But if the truth be known, there is a little of
every color in us all.
What Color Is Your Personality?
brought to you by Quizilla
Friday, 15 July 2005
Monkeymen of the Apocalypse
| You Were Actually Born Under: |
 You bring fun, activity, and stimulation to any event. Self-control is not one of your strong points; you have been known to over indulge. Cheerful and energetic, you can turn the most boring thing into something fun. You are most compatible with a Rat or Dragon. |
| You Should Have Been Born Under: |
 You've got a ton of energy - and need plenty of room to roam. You tend to follow your whims, and it's hard for you to stick to one thing. Specific jobs, loves, and friends are always changing and never a part of your life for long. Very intuitive, you tend to know what people are thinking before they say a word. You are most compatible with a Dog or Tiger. |
One More For the Road (Literally).
 You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant. Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle. You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs. For you, comfort and calm are very important. You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection. You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong. |
*Blush* See you after our weekend in CT!
Sign of the Rising House...
Your Rising Sign is Aries |
 You're full of energy - and people look to you to get the party started. Confident and honest, you'll be the one to say what everyone is thinking. You are easily bored, and you always find unique ways to do things. You don't just dream it, you do it. And that's why you're so successful. Too intense for some, often times people are intimidated by you. But you're usually smart enough to charm them anyway! |
Names for All Occasions
Mandala Reina's Aliases |
Your movie star name: White Chocolate Francis |
Your fashion designer name is Mandala Barcelona |
Your socialite name is Queen Of The Fairies Madrid |
Your fly girl / guy name is M Wil |
Your detective name is Leopard Suffern |
Your barfly name is Pizzelle Bailey's |
Your soap opera name is Eve Edgebrook |
Your rock star name is Peppermint Jet |
Your star wars name is Amafru Wilhec |
Your punk rock band name is The Distraught Fire |
Thursday, 14 July 2005
Vertebrae
You are so lovely when breaking.
I see a demon's year of pretending to heal
in the shallow curves of your lips.
Ugly stories you tell so studiously off-hand,
divorced from the vibrations of vocal chords.
Your collarbones twitch out a dance,
moles on your skin forming words.
Patterns shift between each vertebra
parts of your design I must study.
Here is my guilty little daydream:
my touch sliding down your arm,
linking our bony fingers together.
Our hands pressed back to back.
I will apologize for the shocking
temperature of my simple caress.
You may slap me for my carelessness.
But you will use the other palm.
We are a joyously dirty pair.
Who sensed it first? The fates? The muses?
Even with detachment as our motto,
we somehow connect, fit atom into atom.
By 'connect' I mean, not that we two
are complimentary halves of one
gloriously elusive, mythic whole.
Keys to locks and corks to bottles.
We are instead the same half,
If you line us up, hip to defiant hip,
and examine our sullen silhouettes,
you will see our identical jagged cuts.
We can compare whose grooves run deeper,
cut to disguise our fear with bravado.
We face down our demons by fleeing,
playing blindman's bluff on a cliff.
Sweeping our limbs with casual airs,
we reach to burn the sins right off,
remove our cancerous memories by
making love to the greedy sun.
Eyes slitted with pleasure-burn,we
blind-skip over that seductive edge
proving that heavy souls must fall
stripped of all but skeletal hope.
As we lie here, licking our many wounds,
re-feathering wings and sharpening claws,
watching our lover leave us for the sea,
I confess I want you most when breaking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shiver me allegories! <-- More Rhymes
I see a demon's year of pretending to heal
in the shallow curves of your lips.
Ugly stories you tell so studiously off-hand,
divorced from the vibrations of vocal chords.
Your collarbones twitch out a dance,
moles on your skin forming words.
Patterns shift between each vertebra
parts of your design I must study.
Here is my guilty little daydream:
my touch sliding down your arm,
linking our bony fingers together.
Our hands pressed back to back.
I will apologize for the shocking
temperature of my simple caress.
You may slap me for my carelessness.
But you will use the other palm.
We are a joyously dirty pair.
Who sensed it first? The fates? The muses?
Even with detachment as our motto,
we somehow connect, fit atom into atom.
By 'connect' I mean, not that we two
are complimentary halves of one
gloriously elusive, mythic whole.
Keys to locks and corks to bottles.
We are instead the same half,
If you line us up, hip to defiant hip,
and examine our sullen silhouettes,
you will see our identical jagged cuts.
We can compare whose grooves run deeper,
cut to disguise our fear with bravado.
We face down our demons by fleeing,
playing blindman's bluff on a cliff.
Sweeping our limbs with casual airs,
we reach to burn the sins right off,
remove our cancerous memories by
making love to the greedy sun.
Eyes slitted with pleasure-burn,we
blind-skip over that seductive edge
proving that heavy souls must fall
stripped of all but skeletal hope.
As we lie here, licking our many wounds,
re-feathering wings and sharpening claws,
watching our lover leave us for the sea,
I confess I want you most when breaking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shiver me allegories! <-- More Rhymes
Thursday, 7 July 2005
And I am...
I want this swiftly brought to an end,
all this awkward fumbling, trying to
fit together puzzle pieces of flesh.
When this is done, and you moan,
you shudder, give a kiss, and sleep,
I can finish counting your scars in peace.
Give thanks for unobservant lovers.
Only those who desire and obsess
but will never possess can truly see.
I keep molded pouts and smiles in my pocket.
Seduction is built into everything I do.
And I am so fucking beautiful.
All the time, even cold and marbleized,
violent with barely bridled rage,
hiding under the guise of dreaming,
giddy within this carefully cultivated,
oddly poisonous illusion of love.
Even my flaws are bewitchingly made.
It amuses me that mankind believes
I can be caught, can ever be claimed.
I am the spirit that drives men mad,
undulating at the edges of their vision.
I am a siren, casting my hungry net
over the sea, breaking suitors against the rocks.
I am both unicorn-tamer and monster,
savagely defending my freedom
Wild and unafraid as I run the fields,
slinking and terrible as I hunt the forests
I am pleased you have learned to avoid my gaze
as you fall into place, down on your knees.
I am not on a pedestal; I was born above you
and I am in the heart of first woman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Word Association is Your Friend. <-- More Poetry
all this awkward fumbling, trying to
fit together puzzle pieces of flesh.
When this is done, and you moan,
you shudder, give a kiss, and sleep,
I can finish counting your scars in peace.
Give thanks for unobservant lovers.
Only those who desire and obsess
but will never possess can truly see.
I keep molded pouts and smiles in my pocket.
Seduction is built into everything I do.
And I am so fucking beautiful.
All the time, even cold and marbleized,
violent with barely bridled rage,
hiding under the guise of dreaming,
giddy within this carefully cultivated,
oddly poisonous illusion of love.
Even my flaws are bewitchingly made.
It amuses me that mankind believes
I can be caught, can ever be claimed.
I am the spirit that drives men mad,
undulating at the edges of their vision.
I am a siren, casting my hungry net
over the sea, breaking suitors against the rocks.
I am both unicorn-tamer and monster,
savagely defending my freedom
Wild and unafraid as I run the fields,
slinking and terrible as I hunt the forests
I am pleased you have learned to avoid my gaze
as you fall into place, down on your knees.
I am not on a pedestal; I was born above you
and I am in the heart of first woman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Word Association is Your Friend. <-- More Poetry
STOP
It's really not hard. I am not asking you to love your neighbour as you love yourself. I am not telling you to devote your life to working with charities. I am not requesting that you leave all your worldly possessions behind and become a prophet.
I just want the world to stop.
Though there is no such thing as a completely innocent soul, there are good people in this world.
I have a wish. I wish you could feel what the victims of your acts of violence suffer at your hands. The intense physical and emotional pain of these victims, of their families. I wish you could see their faces in your dreams, hear their names in the pounding of your heart.
I just want these senseless acts, these violent attacks, the wasting of lives, to stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Deepest sympathies to those who have suffered in London today, in the past, and will continue to feel this pain in the future.
I just want the world to stop.
Though there is no such thing as a completely innocent soul, there are good people in this world.
I have a wish. I wish you could feel what the victims of your acts of violence suffer at your hands. The intense physical and emotional pain of these victims, of their families. I wish you could see their faces in your dreams, hear their names in the pounding of your heart.
I just want these senseless acts, these violent attacks, the wasting of lives, to stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Deepest sympathies to those who have suffered in London today, in the past, and will continue to feel this pain in the future.
Sunday, 3 July 2005
Rekindled, Strengthened, and Made
Happiness never came this easily to me before. Two important factors are behind my current good mood.
First, I have sorted out some worries and found what may be the answer to my discomfort in certain situations, and some difficulties I have in relating to people. Could I be any more deliberately vague? Try me.
Second, and most recent, I have rekindled an old friendship, made a new, incredibly deep connection with an acquantaince turned friend, and, within the past few days, strengthened a tenuous connection with a delightful person.
Even with the damper put on my joy by outside influence and recent events, and by my own cynicism, I remain upbeat, even elated with these new connections.
Temporary Soundtrack: "Help Me", Joan Osborne's version off of Relish. "Put on your nightshirt, baby; hand me my morning gown..."
Quote Trapped in My Head: "Comparte tus sueños de agua con el sediento peregrino. Largo y culebrero es el camino sin tu cariño." "El peregrino" from Contacto by Andres Cabas.
First, I have sorted out some worries and found what may be the answer to my discomfort in certain situations, and some difficulties I have in relating to people. Could I be any more deliberately vague? Try me.
Second, and most recent, I have rekindled an old friendship, made a new, incredibly deep connection with an acquantaince turned friend, and, within the past few days, strengthened a tenuous connection with a delightful person.
Even with the damper put on my joy by outside influence and recent events, and by my own cynicism, I remain upbeat, even elated with these new connections.
Saturday, 2 July 2005
Unicorn Bones
You say I gleam
like unicorn bones
in moonlight.
Eerie and cloud-white.
Mercury creaking in my veins
makes me terribly sane.
Pitch me cruelest harmony,
pinch me to sleep.
Beloved wants to see me weep.
Pain is my somnambulist,
devil's a sandman
slinking along the keep.
You can keep me but not alive.
Pandora is my lover,
panic my middle name.
She breathes in my ear
the sweetest of broken promises,
as I grin and swallow
your husband's latent shame
late-blooming like nightshade, whispering
Love is just an extinct game.
Electricity tickles the atmosphere
when the barometer's falling, snowbell's calling,
tolling out: Hear! Hark! Watch and weep.
Let the appalled audience see me
devour the writhing moon, so dim
in comparison to my radiance.
I admit it, I shine.
I try so hard not to,
with sullied mind,
dirty heart, dust-covered skin.
Can you sully the reputation
of a child of ill-repute?
You must know, all bets are off
the scale, the charts, the cuff,
when I glow supernova-bright like an
acid-tripping firefly even in daylight.
I blind, refract the tide.
Do I still shine?
Emanate light?
Imitate life?
Rip off my horn.
~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
No one ever said living life ab ovo would be easy! <-- More Poetry
like unicorn bones
in moonlight.
Eerie and cloud-white.
Mercury creaking in my veins
makes me terribly sane.
Pitch me cruelest harmony,
pinch me to sleep.
Beloved wants to see me weep.
Pain is my somnambulist,
devil's a sandman
slinking along the keep.
You can keep me but not alive.
Pandora is my lover,
panic my middle name.
She breathes in my ear
the sweetest of broken promises,
as I grin and swallow
your husband's latent shame
late-blooming like nightshade, whispering
Love is just an extinct game.
Electricity tickles the atmosphere
when the barometer's falling, snowbell's calling,
tolling out: Hear! Hark! Watch and weep.
Let the appalled audience see me
devour the writhing moon, so dim
in comparison to my radiance.
I admit it, I shine.
I try so hard not to,
with sullied mind,
dirty heart, dust-covered skin.
Can you sully the reputation
of a child of ill-repute?
You must know, all bets are off
the scale, the charts, the cuff,
when I glow supernova-bright like an
acid-tripping firefly even in daylight.
I blind, refract the tide.
Do I still shine?
Emanate light?
Imitate life?
Rip off my horn.
~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~
No one ever said living life ab ovo would be easy! <-- More Poetry
Friday, 1 July 2005
Licorice
I feel like licorice, the way
my ribs rub together when I bend.
Stinging and fierce
in your throat, but too limp
to struggle for release.
God, does the friction
of bone on bone
ever hurt.
For so long I lacked the words
to give life
to my suspicions about dead things.
Before, mania held my hand,
tugging always to
pull me forward
reaching behind my neck
to drag me on.
I made of my mind a slippery, blank canvas
from first heated glance to last moan.
Yet something always stood
around the corner,
hidden in the cracks of the
next sidewalk square,
waiting for me in the depths
of tomorrow's sleep.
All the while
I kept moving so swiftly,
regrets harmlessly
striking my flanks,
sliding off me like mouthless remoras.
No rough grooves or wrinkles
on my perfect mask
for them to grasp.
I refuse to let you watch
the cracks spreading
beneath the icing,
striking to the filling, to the
burnt layer stuck to the pan,
scrubbed and worried at for hours,
freed from filth
only to be thrown away.
I move the heavens to keep you
innocent of the strangeness
lurking in my material.
I will not bind
your sympathy to my arm
wear it into battle
against my past.
Through sacrifice, I spare your virtue.
Even when alone
I feel like licorice, with
ridges shifting below my skin.
I can not settle
into this twisted body
the curves do not
fit their spaces
my tendons are too long for their bones.
The clenching of muscles
holds me hard
even when I do not dream.
So I shift my ribs, press on a bruise,
attempt to mutate
to the will of the world.
It hurts, doesn't it,
this friction of bone on bone?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
my ribs rub together when I bend.
Stinging and fierce
in your throat, but too limp
to struggle for release.
God, does the friction
of bone on bone
ever hurt.
For so long I lacked the words
to give life
to my suspicions about dead things.
Before, mania held my hand,
tugging always to
pull me forward
reaching behind my neck
to drag me on.
I made of my mind a slippery, blank canvas
from first heated glance to last moan.
Yet something always stood
around the corner,
hidden in the cracks of the
next sidewalk square,
waiting for me in the depths
of tomorrow's sleep.
All the while
I kept moving so swiftly,
regrets harmlessly
striking my flanks,
sliding off me like mouthless remoras.
No rough grooves or wrinkles
on my perfect mask
for them to grasp.
I refuse to let you watch
the cracks spreading
beneath the icing,
striking to the filling, to the
burnt layer stuck to the pan,
scrubbed and worried at for hours,
freed from filth
only to be thrown away.
I move the heavens to keep you
innocent of the strangeness
lurking in my material.
I will not bind
your sympathy to my arm
wear it into battle
against my past.
Through sacrifice, I spare your virtue.
Even when alone
I feel like licorice, with
ridges shifting below my skin.
I can not settle
into this twisted body
the curves do not
fit their spaces
my tendons are too long for their bones.
The clenching of muscles
holds me hard
even when I do not dream.
So I shift my ribs, press on a bruise,
attempt to mutate
to the will of the world.
It hurts, doesn't it,
this friction of bone on bone?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flurry of Letters
*Surveys posts over the past week with amazement. Gives semi-sheepish laugh.*
Remember how I said I was going to be lax with my posting from now on? Apparently not. Not that any of the poems or anything I'm putting out are any good - yet. *Winks* I've taking to putting up more raw material and re-working it over and over again, until I never want to read the words and I dream about them and they float through my mind at inappropriate times, and I shove them away, only to have them echo in my head much later on, at which point, once I hear the echo, I know I have something.
So, if any of you lovely people actually read the poems on The Poetry Monster post, you'll notice that they change. A lot. Some of them get longer, some shorter, some go in completely different directions than the original. The date on these posts, by the by, is only a date of first publication. I should really put the date updated next to these poems instead...
On the news front: I've been tinkering with several chapters to Animated at once, and the prologue has been growing like a wordy chia pet, along with the plot. However, new chapters will be slow in coming, since I have taken to reading about Game Design in books borrowed from all over several towns. Isn't that neat, the way these library systems work nowadays?
P.S. We have a new fridge! Yay!
P.P.S. Tomorrow is going to rock!.
Temporary Soundtrack: "Untouchable" by Garbage off of Beautiful Garbage.
Quote Trapped in My Head: "And your hands are really shakin’ somethin’ awful // As your worries climb around inside your clothes // Oh, how long will you be sittin’ in the darkness // Heaven knows..." "Crazy Baby" by Joan Osborne, off of Relish.
Remember how I said I was going to be lax with my posting from now on? Apparently not. Not that any of the poems or anything I'm putting out are any good - yet. *Winks* I've taking to putting up more raw material and re-working it over and over again, until I never want to read the words and I dream about them and they float through my mind at inappropriate times, and I shove them away, only to have them echo in my head much later on, at which point, once I hear the echo, I know I have something.
So, if any of you lovely people actually read the poems on The Poetry Monster post, you'll notice that they change. A lot. Some of them get longer, some shorter, some go in completely different directions than the original. The date on these posts, by the by, is only a date of first publication. I should really put the date updated next to these poems instead...
On the news front: I've been tinkering with several chapters to Animated at once, and the prologue has been growing like a wordy chia pet, along with the plot. However, new chapters will be slow in coming, since I have taken to reading about Game Design in books borrowed from all over several towns. Isn't that neat, the way these library systems work nowadays?
P.S. We have a new fridge! Yay!
P.P.S. Tomorrow is going to rock!.
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