I will enter the house of your soul with
Chili pepper lights
String them up above your head
Dance on your rug to loud music you will not like
Bake awful pies and order takeout
Paint garish colors on your ceiling and tell you how they work together
Throw parties where I am belle of the ball and
Flutter my wings until
The breeze whistles in your ears
You can run as fast as you like but not keep up with my
Train of thought
You will never give me enough attention
There isn't enough
You will not understand my words, at least not
All of them
You will disappoint me
Not once but many times
But I will glow in such a way that will make you wonder
How you lived without light before I entered
Your house
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Chronicle
It becomes like a shrine
this clever article
of faith
that tells a convincing story
washed in fiction
of what will become
of my willingness
to love
In each chapter, each word
lives ten thousand years of
faded believing
I lived it
I told it
I shared the gifts from this book
And they were left outside my temple
like unwanted children
The bitter cold of
rejection biting at their hearts
tears stain their cheeks
not marred by contempt
but only
indifference
It is an alter of burned faith
where these yellowed
paper leaves shuffle with their own life
their brittle truths still shine
and some have used that light
inhaled it
filled themselves up
became inspired, yet still
exhaled and walked away
The pages shift in the wind
fall open to the perfect place where
that epic ended in a sad whisper
But the next line is
"Once Upon a Time..."
this clever article
of faith
that tells a convincing story
washed in fiction
of what will become
of my willingness
to love
In each chapter, each word
lives ten thousand years of
faded believing
I lived it
I told it
I shared the gifts from this book
And they were left outside my temple
like unwanted children
The bitter cold of
rejection biting at their hearts
tears stain their cheeks
not marred by contempt
but only
indifference
It is an alter of burned faith
where these yellowed
paper leaves shuffle with their own life
their brittle truths still shine
and some have used that light
inhaled it
filled themselves up
became inspired, yet still
exhaled and walked away
The pages shift in the wind
fall open to the perfect place where
that epic ended in a sad whisper
But the next line is
"Once Upon a Time..."
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Crystal Mountain
Where is my sign?
My omen
White owl
Black stone
That which chooses
The paths
That I must
Live
Walk and own
My soul can wander
Aimlessly
It has done so for years
No destination
No end
No place
Black eyes
Gray heart
White face
Bones bleached
And stacked
Upon them only a brief
Rain fell
Pale tears
And they spoke to me of
My paralyzing fears
That keep me frozen
In my own time
Suspend me in
Dark discord and
Lock out my rhythm
Disconnect my rhyme
Out of mind
Out of sight
Out of body
That wisp of spirit
Wanders
The blackened roads
Resists the pull
From the talisman
I seek
But never find
My omen
White owl
Black stone
That which chooses
The paths
That I must
Live
Walk and own
My soul can wander
Aimlessly
It has done so for years
No destination
No end
No place
Black eyes
Gray heart
White face
Bones bleached
And stacked
Upon them only a brief
Rain fell
Pale tears
And they spoke to me of
My paralyzing fears
That keep me frozen
In my own time
Suspend me in
Dark discord and
Lock out my rhythm
Disconnect my rhyme
Out of mind
Out of sight
Out of body
That wisp of spirit
Wanders
The blackened roads
Resists the pull
From the talisman
I seek
But never find
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