A small collection of four poems... |
Sometimes sometimes i feel the cold, gold bonds of the world that atlas must feel, strong shoulders straining to bear the heavy hearts of liars, murderers, and thieves. then showers come and wash it all away in a cleansing ritual of mushroom clouds and radiation blowouts. and my shoulders feel free. instead i can feel my arms bearing the much lighter weight of cardboard-on-a-stick, my heart ripped, still pounding, out of my warm chest and stuck, like glue, for the whole world to see. i feel nothing- the cardboard has my heart. it bleeds too much. and at the end of the day i return home and i salute the red, forgetting in my unroman mind the blue and the white, placing them, too onto the cardboard. it becomes heavy. drops. and my shoulders feel the pain again. Dirge Roses rain and turn to dust- The young grow old and the old will lust. Dance upon the silver moon, Know the rain is coming soon. The chain will break and start to rust, Scourge the earth till die it must; Falling backward to the night, Till no one's living left to fight. Howls across the midnight sky, In their flash the dead will lie. Roses rain and turn to dust- The young grow old and the old will lust. Untitled Am I pretty? I've got a few extra curves To make me Softer. More cushion for the pushin'; To make it obscene. I've got full, pink lips And carefully arched brows; Deep, soulful eyes that Are brown but flash green. My Pagan soul dances 'Neath the solstice moon; Spins magick to hide the Evils of the world. My spirit flies free, Unbound from the ground- Wolfin' eyes glowing, And Angel wings unfurled. Am I pretty? Yes I am. But my beauty can't be bought-- Or sold. The Bus to Heaven Sometimes when I look a certain way, I see her there, just standing; Like she's waiting for the train. I see her and I know that she Is dead. That she is a soul who Missed the bus to Heaven and now Waited for the train to Hell. I see her and I wonder, am I Dead, too? Am I walking, breathing? Does my heart beat? Or am I dead, Just like her, waiting for my bus To Heaven? And then I shake my head And nothing's there; just an empty Place where nothing should've been and Where nothing was again. I smile and Walk, free from fear, knowing that my Heart is beating and my lungs are Pumping air. And I am happy. I appreciate all feedback, so please take the time to rate and review! |