been writing poetry at MySpace for some reason. Preserving it here.


Thursday, December 01, 2005

One Door Opens
Current mood: grieving


another closes.

sometimes it is hard to decipher which

is witch



a hand reached to me

I answered

I found a friend

and for a time was healed



Now I am at a loss



It seems life chips away

in little tiny moves

breaking this heart

to shards

and then quarks

an dthere is no glue

to mend it with



I tire of the goodbyes

especially those never said

I tire of the empty spaces

left as the room grows cold



I suppose
I look outside myself

for too much affirmation

but it is said that one

is known by the company

one keeps



Would that I could keep yours



I'm tired of closing doors



and learning not to trust

the next that opens.



In bitter tears I turn away.

I stole those pictures today

they may be all I have

when the morning light turns grey



i hate goodbye

I hate having to lose

I hate knowing once again

I walk through here alone

I hope it changes

but I will mourn just the same



a part of me died today

and the passing should be honoured



in the name of the Triple Goddess,

Maiden, Mother, Crone

I bid thee godspeed to wherever

and pray that you come home.



blessed be my friend.












Saturday, November 26, 2005

not sure


so much pain in the world



and we usually inflict it upon ourselves.



there is no outside remedy



no place to hide til it goes away



only time to spend inside



seek within

for the strenght

the answers

the thing that is us

each and all



it is only from ourselves

that true happiness is derived



no one and nothing

else

can patch the holes,

mend the heart,

guide us through this life



the zen buddhists

call it

chop wood, carry water



do the simple things

to the best of your waking day



be happy in the little accomplishments



and know you have

made a difference

in a life

if merely your own





there is no other true place

for peace to grow



but in one's own heart.


1:34 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove


an early AM away
Current mood: tired of games


Ah!

this is driving me crazy!



Too much time in my own head and I still cannot see the way.



I cannot have what works for me,



yet what I can isn't what I need.



Sometimes there are too many facets to this life and I can't

tell which is real and which a lie.



there's that word again.

you brought it up awhile back, with bitterness,

and sarcasm, yet again trying to joke

but not really.

I am sometimes not sure when to laugh



or give you a hug.



but there you are.

Beauty as to only artists,

yet there you stand

looking uncomfortable in your own skin

making me wonder if I

am dealing with a man

or a boy.





Most are both really,

and I love and envy

them for it.

they remind me how to play

bu none ever seems to stay





I don't know why.



but for you,

I would try.

and again there it is-

I do not know why.



I only know I hate the cold pillow

next to me, and the distance

between us,



you and me.


10:43 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove



Thursday, November 24, 2005

Turnings
Current mood: quiet


crisp bite in the air

normal sounds of everyday

muffled to extinction

skies whisper

of coming cold

leaves flap by

in their migration



winter comes

this is the time

of dying

to be reborn

at midwinter fires



the world turns round

once more



peace in the coming times , friends.




8:07 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove



Sunday, November 20, 2005

Unable


wanna be somewhere else right now. Close enough to touch, though it is forbidden. For now anyway.



Want to know I have the chance I need. Want to know that something might just go right for me for a change.



and unable to do a damn thing about it. too far away. wait for another day....



to touch and say

what I feel.

the farthest point down

how far is
too far

down

I knew once
for me

I had my limits


and they nearly
crushed me

when you're floating
on the oily sea

rife with debris
and vivid smells

how do you
tell the mind

to take over
where the heart has failed

how far
is too far

down

when nothing
cuts through

nothing makes
sense anymore

nothing stays
the wound

and misery
is all you know


there is no guide book to this
there is no class one can take

it seems sometimes that even
the books can offer no more solace

the words are brittle and tasteless
the rhyme slips right through the fingers

and no one has
any answers

that might say
which way to turn

it isn't fun
to be alone
on a vast sea
of nothing
but the past

and alas

it is hard to
know
how far
is too far


down


until it might
be too late

* * * * * * * * * * *

a light in the tunnel
an escape
or an end

you will never know
until you reach for it

and that takes courage
of the heart

just a start

but it must begin somewhere

midnight scribbles

trees thru the forest
that’s a harder thing
the safe little cottage
tucked away in back
a simple life
thee & me
all inside the trees

what drives the words
the poet would say
mystery
mystery
but, truth, they are
like the wind

curling around me
like fog on the glen
wrapping me in things
unseen but felt inside

I’ve nowhere to hide

One hand’s embrace
can change the world
make the sun rise
and sunset fairer


make the colours bright
in the northern lights
up in the midnight sky

don’t ask me why

I only know its truth;
I can’t give it reason,
justa place in this heart
to let hope grow

maybe he will know

Maybe he can tap
into the connection
as into the maple
to release the sweet within

it does take two
after all

the give and the take
must balance
or no one gains a thing
in the end

like a tree I bend


down to the frozen ground
offering what I can,
warmth gained from above
to melt a small bit
of the world

just a start, but
I hope it is enough

Nevermind

I just got it wrong again.
Ignore it and go on.
The world will not change
so drastically
because of one foolish
girl's dream.


I don't even qualify
as a passing fancy.
None would give me that glance.


I am just the wallflower,
forgetable in the end,
the one no one notices
til she's gone.

if then.


I will go back to my cave
dig deep in the time
of hibernation
and pray that dreams are
enough to sustain
when all else is denied me.


And if they aren't,
well,
who the hell would notice
the difference anyway?


What a pity
won't even cross your mind
I will just be that face
that stopped showing up.
Guess she found something
new.


An understatement
but you will never
understand
nor do I think
you'll care.

pity.
because I do.
about you that is.

dark

the paint splashes across the canvas
the words form in the running hues
I try to catch an image
and it is elusive

A swirl of leaves thrown aloft
by the devil's windy twin
slip & slide amid the sleeping trees
kiss my face with death's familiar scent

a long boulevarde, once tamed
by the hands of man
claimed back not to the Cycles
wildness whispers in my ears

Reaching creeping touchy fingers
limbs & leaves & too much familiar
places its mark on the passing year
kicks up clouds of what has gone before

the space between dreams

He doesn't know
how I feel
I don't think
he doesn't know how
his eyes make me flush

he doesn't know
I would give him the world
if I could

He was a dream
Half a life ago
and I feel so
complete near him

this time
the passion is different
this time
it is old & familiar

a fire that smolders
deep & comfortable
how I wish
I knew how to tell him

I want to reach
across the chasm
between us
and simply
take his hand

I think in our case
the truth would
speak volumes
we can't admit are there

He doesn't know
what my heart feels
Where do I find
the courage to tell him

stone heart

I lost my heart today

I got up and looked
but it was gone.

I guess it was
tired of the abuse
and neglect
and decided
to move on

I carried it in my
pocket,
because it was easier
than wearing it on
my sleeve

It felt
I suppose
I had no more use
for it,
and so decided
to leave


heartbeat

tiny heartbeat

too soft for the world
to hear



where are you lying now
with no one to tend
to your fear


I needed you
if only
to carry what I
can no longer bear

if I knew where to look
I would bring you
home with care


in the middle of
this mortal coil
swimming in this
life of illusion
I have little enough
to hold on to

and now even less

I wonder where a
heart of stone
goes to find reprieve

I would tell it I
would trade places
now
if it would just
choose not to leave

This is the End

I choose here to end this.

I choose to cut off its head,
poison dripping from fangs
into my wounded soul.

I choose to bury it
on sacred ground
that it might never
bite again.

I choose the coward's
way out
because all else has
failed me miserably.

I shut the door.
I lose the key.
I turn my back.
I walk away.

I cannot take this
one more time.

Epitaph

I feel like a soda bottle
lid screwed off one too many times
fizz seeping away a little more
each time

the coveted prize
stamped so clearly on my head
remains elusive
no matter how I try

I know only this:
the words written inside that
lid
will guide this world to
knowing this soul
when it is gone
by words carved deeply
into the stone:

"Sorry, not a winner.
Please try again."

nameless here forever more

I am dying inside.

I have been for years I suppose.
It is just brought home more vividly this day.

One to whom I had dedicated my emotions has said no and expects

me to just take it and move on like it was no big deal.

Fuck him.

I do not accept.

My heart, my affections are not toys to be dicarded when you no longer care about
them.
I am a living breathing person and I deserve that respect.

I am so sick of this.

I never get anything in this life that I want.
no person.
no thing.
no answer.
no rhyme or reason.


What i want doesn’t seem unreasonable to me.
A person to walk with who gives a fuck what I feel and am.
A place to be with that person.
A time of relative peace in this soul, without having to resort to a frontal lobotomy

there is no place for people like me, who are born out side the parameters all the other mundanes choose to live in. I am a poet, a player of words, a mirror for the human condition

If I am truly a reflection of the honest level of that condition right now,
this species is in a shit load of trouble. I am falling apart, for lack of the right kind of nurturing ever being present in this lifetime.
No one wants to nurture the wounded.

no one wants to admit we exist,
though we are but you , living in honesty.

there is only one reason I have not yet stopped my own pain :
karmic law.
It would require that I do it all over again.

I tell you now
that excuse is running thinner by the hour.

Requiem

Two pennies for my eyes
Let them not forget
The ferry man will pass me by
and I the world to wander

It seems the world
Has no solace
for lonely souls
as I

I get to crossroads
to find the way blocked
and I cannot see
which way to turn

Left,right
forward,back
they are the only choices

unless I choose to jump
the track
and leave the beaten path

so remember the old ways for me
pay the ferryman his due
Close these eyes to all the world
that I might start anew.

one more time, it seems

love is a cheat
played upon the soul
like so many games
at the penny arcade

a handful of coins
to be spent or hoarded
as wisdom says
if only I’d known

I would have
put them aside
to waste at
another time

a diffferent soul
to spend my
time upon

a waste of change
thrown to the world
by one too naive
to know the difference

Now I stand here
penniless
ashamed
defeated
yet again


the runes said
this pattern
could not
be repeated
without
consequence

I did not take
The Gods
seriously

such am I
made into Icarus


Would that it was enough
to burn me away
to mere ash

As it is
I plummet to
the ground

little more than
a puddle of
useless wax

Yet again
has that deceiver Love
left me damned

damned forever
here
to question my
Self

I accept now
that I am to be alone
for whatever
reason
whatever karma
I have earned
through folly large
or small

I will cease to ask
for any further boon

and ask only of
the One
that It teach me dispassion


that I might never feel like this

again.






I love you anyway
no distance
no time
no other person

will ever change that.

Staring Into The Sun

I come to my own understanding
the blinding light of realization

Staring at the world thru pinholes
the scream of the solar wind
tearing through my skull

the visions of mystics threaten
at the door,
my only desire- for clarity & silence.

Clarity of mind born from dispassion
control- alternative-delete

and begin again.

_______________________________

A bug in the system-
creeping, gnawing, feeding
and the Source reveals itself

patterns
I see patterns
square
sphere
tri-ang-le


Alone in a crowd
alone in the world
I would bleed
for my god

if I had one.

_________________________

patterns
ebb & flow
a beach washed away
and born in one

God is a beachcomber
searching out that
perfect shell

I found the bug
finally
amid the gel of thought



Purest of pure
are the only ones
born to utter
the Word

How many of those
can there possibly
be

Silence between the
digits
It's coming clearer


Stop trying to stop
the voices the screaming
Let the sun in it burns
it burns away the
impurities


I am free.



All is One

the pattern emerged
while staring into
the One.

prose at a pose

A Perfect Cup of Tea



I found a cupid lying solitary on the desk. My mother had slipped it into a valentine’s card the same year she died. every now and then one turns up in the strangest place. this one more so than usual, as a bead from the work I do was sitting as though clasped in its hands. It was a hematite heart.
How weird is that.
I spent the day, nay even the weekend, wondering of my lot in this life, the level of aloneness I find myself in, to the point of abject loneliness sometimes, and then here this thing is. I have been at that desk all day. It wasn’t there this morning when I was raging against my machine (e-mail acting up)

i have to wonder if it is my mom, from somewhere on the otherside of the Veil, trying to tell me that love is within my grasp. Or is it me searching again for that companion I just can’t seem to find.. Is it mere coincidence, or did I subconciously make it happen. Maybe someone else did.

Love is such a vague and stupid thing sometimes. I think what should be emphasized is really finding that person to share space and time with who doesn’t chap your hide as badly as the others, and who can put up with you. Goddess knows, I am no saint. Bad temper. emotional roller coaster. unpredictable, even to myself.. Brilliantly creative and scared shitless by it. Smart to the point of my brain frying with the pressure of it all. so shy it can sometimes be physically painful.
what a ridiculous mix. at least, I know from talking to some people that I am not alone in my oddities.

i read recently that children are born already wired to be happy or be unhappy. from pictures taken of me at a young age, i would have thought i was one of the happy ones, despite illness almost from birth. it is hard to figure that one out when i stop and look at my life now. i feel like i wear so many masks that i sometimes cannot decipher what’s real of me anymore. there is some piece buried deep down inside that is still no more that 5 years old that is seeking something in the way of human companionship. that’s the thing the masks are all there to protect. i wish i knew how to help it not be so bloody afraid, because as long as it is, it will go on being alone and thus unhappy.

i had a beloved teacher once, a person i MUST have trusted, because i let her into my hidden self through my poetry- a place i rarely let anyone until only last year-
Madame Rabke (goddess protect that beautiful soul) responded very gently to one of my pieces that had laid bare this aloneness of mine by pointing out that alone and lonely are not the same thing. i have never forgotten those words. the piece of paper is still in the notebook i used to collect the poems in. i sometimes wish she was still around, to see if she could give me any insight into distinguishing the difference. i am afraid i have failed to find it on my own.

i know an awful lot of people who married or got involved with another almost at a level of compromise. “ I didn’t think I would ever find anything better.” cannot say how many times i have heard those words and felt sorry, both for the sayer of them and the one they were said about. that’s pretty sad.

when i hear things like that, i know that part of me is better off. i may be alone, but i have not “settled”. i am still looking for someone to compliment my Self- a person who is an individual and yet feels like a part of me too. my best friend casey is the closest i have found. sadly, he’s gay, or it might have been perfect. ‘course, if he’d been straight, it would’ve been a totally different relationship anyway.


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

a book i am readin just came out with a line from the main character that struck home with me, the poet. “Poetry is, I think, the ultimate form of self-deception.”
ouch.
that means by proxy that much of my life’s work has been in self-delusion. I cannot find any reason to be happy about that one. i have had little enough to leave behind me to remind the world i ever existed. perhaps it will someday be found that through my own self-deception, i have added to the greater good by giving some lonely, remorsing soul a mirror by which to gaze upon his/her own soul, and find salvation. whatever form that might take, i can only venture the vaguest of guesses. one can never be certain the affect one’s art can truly have on others. too much of the response is bound to stay buried inside and become mired in with all the other life experiences shaping that person.


see? there i go again. ever the poet, even in prose.

think i will go seek the perfect cup of tea.

OBLIVION

when total numbness just isn’t enough.......



Sounds like a postcard
mailed from my soul
to the One out there
Asking for respite


I understand Poe
So much better than
Before

We are creatures
made not of blood & sinew
but love and need,
desperation beyond measure.


Be assured.
It is possible to die
from a broken heart,
Shattered by one’s own self.

I am so used to feeling
perhaps too much for one soul
that to go numb doesn’t work.

I need the input.
Dare I say
I need the pain?

It is the one thing
reminding me
always
I am still alive.

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

What bothers me most
is that others say
all this is self-inflicted.


Not that I look
for a place to lay
blame

but I have to wonder
why any would do
to him/herself
what I supposedly
do to me.

It is, I think,
the self-containment
that bothers me the
most.


When I walk among the stars
(those of the sky, not
human making)
I am One again, not alone.

Locked in this flesh
bound by this world
I feel so seperate

and I am desperate
to be anything but.