Listen to me
To this velvet I speak
I call upon you to find—to seek
Call upon my past, my future, my mind
Find that which, inside, my soul cannot find

Spider webs of truth
Cobwebs of pain
Gossamer nets veiling your soul’s disdain
Falling here, into a trap that I’ve laid
I used to be the hunted, now it’s upon you that is preyed

Had I been young
I’d have crawled away and hid
But you matured me well, taught me to do what I did
I would seek truth, but it is never right
Only I can shelter myself from the night

I am fallen from grace
An angel with tattered wings
I’d fly far from here from the danger that sings
Pulling me into the rocks, the cliffs of my fate
Like Sirens spinning gold from hate
Broken and bloodied
I’ll fight on my own
Tis no better staying safely inside than sacrificing rights to roam
I could seek the refuge of an internal light
But all the while knowing I’ll die should I not fight
_________________________________________________________________________

If I Could Love You

http://gifted-pen.livejournal.com/9149.html#cutid1
________________________________________________________________

A Poet's Ode

The hurried rush

I couldn’t see

I couldn’t sleep

My racing mind

And throbbing head

Tourbillion lights

Colorful nights

And tinkling song

A chime, now gone

The scent of lead

Stained fingertips

The flashing clock

A taunting mock

A subtle blink

An almost dream

Wanting to drift

To a world unseen

A careless state

A scatheless slate

Clean fingertips

No smell of lead

My headache gone

Only soft light

A quiet hum

No time in sight

A constant thing

A constant place

No blurry vision

From the exhaustion

Oh, how it would bore me so.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Of Demons and Angels Incarnate

You know who I am.

I’m you. I’m your friend. I’m a stranger.

I’m everything you love and everything you hate:

I’m me.

You know who I am.

I’m the dark and twisted soul

and the bright and shining face.

I am everywhere and no where.

I hide in the shadows

but I stand right before your eyes.

I’m obviously discreet and discreetly obvious.

I bear your indifference but you can’t look away.

I intrigue and confuse—

I am the anomalous assimilation.

You know who I am.

I’m you. I’m your friend. I’m a stranger.

I’m everything you love and everything you hate:

I’m me.
                                                                                                                                                     

City of Sins

The glittering jewels of indulging sins

twinkle and blind

so you don't see you are lost.

in this sea of chaos

in this ocean of indulgences and

satisfaction.

this place of desires and dolls and drinks

this place off the spectrum of innocence

This place of demons in the eyes and the

glittering jewels of indulging sins

Can you forget that you're dying?

Pretend that you're flying?

In this place of a sinful congregation and the

fairy tales of gothica and eternal cackling of demons

in the eyes and in the glittering jewels of indulging sins.

Falling into this spiral of jewels and glitter and the intrigue of it all

of the ingurgitating of self lies and engorging on instantaneous veils

Masks and lies and shrouds and common forgetfulness of the other world

your other life.

Can you still see?

Have your eyes turned twinkling jewels of indulging sins... ?

You can't see. No, not that you are the prey in this game of lusting bliss

in this game of the demons in the eyes and jewels that you think you control.

Running away from what you used to be.

what you still are

and then the sea whispers fairy tales of gothica into your ears and

swallows you unapologetically whole

Then the trembling earth and pulsing beats of lies across the stages

continue

forever

because they never needed you

you succumbed and fell, and needed it.
                                                                                                                                                          
Beautiful Identity

'Because I am not you,'

that is your excuse

for this exemplary measure of disdain.

'Because I'm not like you,'

This, a twisted count of truth,

Used for this round of the 'Assimilation Game.'

'Because I won't conform,'

In this territ'ry of norm

The rules of suppos'd sociality seem twirled.

'Because I reject normality,'

These words retaining irony;

Willn't the sane be judged not in an insane world?

'Because I have identity,'

I'm something you will never be;

You’ll never know what it's like to see

That 'Because "different" is beautiful,'

By straying from the usual

And never compromising—I am me.

                                                                                                                                                  
Land of the Free

If prejudice was truly dead

and our nation truly free

then what books you checked out in 1995

would not be a matter of national security.

Our phones would not be tapped

just because we spoke our minds;

Hey, there's the Freedom Of Information Act,

but you'll only see what you should find.

Having original thought wouldn't make you a Heretic

and falling in love wouldn't "send you to hell."

Marriage would mean 'love' not 'gender,'

but hey, "don't ask, don't tell."

A child could be adopted by the best home,

not only by the couple who's straight,

and the matter of who some one LOVES

would not incite such HATE.

The sports teams would not have eight booster clubs

while my math book is held together with duct tape,

and not being a rich white socialite

wouldn't make you religion a 'fake.'

And just because a person was born in a certain country

they would not be put on a "watch list;"

presidents would understand that

the color of one's skin does NOT make you a terrorist

the taxes --like promised--

would actually go toward out dwindling education

and the only proclaimed 'abomination' would be

A bombing nation.

                                                                                                                                                     

To: 
The One and Only You

I don't want to be you

you just happen to be everything I want to be

you are everything I claim to be

you are open and honest and so unafraid.

everything I wish was in me.

When I cried, when I was upset

you gave me a shoulder, an ear, and a hug

no questions asked. No prying into why I was crying;

you just knew I only needed you.

You are my best friend,

and that's saying a lot for someone with walls as high as mine,

which means you surmounted them to get to me

no matter how hard the climb.

With you,

I feel safe enough to let my emotions be shown

and that's got to be a step in the right direction

when hiding myself is all I've ever known

You showed me there still existed light

when I was in my darkest place

and I truly believe that if not for you

my life would not be the same today

I believe I was meant to meet you

to realize I am not alone

you risked SO much to help me

when I didn't have a home.

When one of my other 'best friends'...

when she called me a liar,

when she abandoned me when my life got tough

you proved yourself true

So this is my thank you, my proclamation

that you are my true friend,

and so much do I love you

When you cry, when you are upset

I wish I could give you the world

you have done so much for me and I

only want to take your pain away

I want to do for you as much as you have done for me.

And I know it is impossible to leave such an imprint as you've left on mine

but I hope, in your life, I've left a mark of some kind.

                                                                                                                                                                

Spring

In the Spring the love is new,
with white blossoms bursting from green bud.
Full with life, no sign of strife,
new days washing forth like a flood.

In the Summer the love is hot,
like the desert in July.
A solid passion, shyness ashen,
the comfort of an eternal ally.

In the Autumn the love is slowed,
with perspective of the present, future, and past.
Eyes full of love, signs from above,
that this romance shall forever last.

In the Winter the love has aged,
matured, and grown with time.
Snow falls upon
the awakening dawn
of a love in its prime.

                                                                                                                                                 
In Clouds

I don’t believe in clouds;
They tell lies to me
Of realities and fantasies
Weightless they float, so proud.

Those clouds are dreamers, they,
And romantics, too; no need of defense
For innocence; for in their suspense
They can hide in the night from the day.

Perfect, these clouds of purest white;
Delicate and soft, they wisp and twirl
Above the curls of little girls
Telling them the sweetest lies.
I don’t believe in clouds.
                                                                                                                                              

A Memory

The wind was hollow; the air was stale, the tragic, cursed day.
I would know, but I was too busy having fun hundreds of miles away.
How she was taken, I'll never know; only speculations rise.
Whether or not she was lifted away by angels for the final time she closed her once vibrant eyes.
Was she carried away to the Kingdom above? Or stolen from the earth?
Did the spindles of boned fingers clutch her, drag her from her worth?
I wont ever know what happened that day, and it haunts me still,
that I was not there to protect her from heaven's unjust will.
It wasn't her fault that she had to die, and I long to see her face.
But nothing remains of her today, not a single earthly trace.
Her pictures line the hallways, but just is not the same.
For the paper isn't she; it cannot come when I call her name.
It cannot say "I love you!" or "I had fun in school today!"
But she doesn't go to school anymore, there's just an empty seat in second grade.
I can still remember good times, plentiful they were,
of Jordan's laugh, her smile... now, all just a blur,
fading away in my mind, but I suppose that's all she is now, that's all that is left to see.
It hurts that all that's left of her is her fading memory.
                                                                                                                                              

Small White Pills

So much at stake
So much to lose
So much pain to sacrifice away
Away
Far Away
Small White Pills
Tight within my clenched white fist
Small White Pills
Pushing dents into my palm
Small White Pills
Giving relief
Giving security
Giving the right amount
the right amount of pleasure, of pain
The right amount of temporary bliss before I fall onto the floor
The Small White Pills
Small White Pills
Small White Pills...
Only one tablet away from truth
From fate
From death
How many is too many?
Too many is not enough
Not enough to cure me of my affliction
I am my ailment
No prescription exists for being Broken
So
The
Small White Pills
The Small White Pills must suffice
                                                                                                                                         

Affliction

His intentions are black as the heart in his chest
His eyes glow dark with deception
His lies are the vermin whose words infest
Everything about him be fictitious down to his expression
His deceit is the arsenic that does molest
His words are an infection beneath silky veil
His creeping touch is haunting at best
Disillusionment is what does only his presence entail
The affliction: my trust, the ultimate test.
                                                                                                                         

Fallen

Oh, how I've fallen;
I used to live--to prosper--to shine--
how I've left it all behind.
In a dizzying world
of confusion and black
the dark overtakes and I can get nothing back.
When I've lost all my gifts
thanks to many distractions,
I can feel myself tearing
down into fractions
of what I used to be
this midsummer night's dream
now an empty silhouette
with no refuge--for nothing is left
I've fallen from my cloud--
my pulpit of speech
and I begin to beseech
myself to any passersby,
"Come, take my soul,"
I've no use for it anyway.
I am, now, just a hole.
I used to have greatness
just waiting to burst
now I have nothing...
for life, now, I thirst...
                                                                                                                                        

Untitled

I am a butterfly
in someone else's eyes
Has someone told you how I've been?
Is it you I despise?
Or you deception and lies?
All disguised with a grin.
                                                                                                                                                     

The Keeper

You are my phantom
my shadow
my soul
the highest note in my symphony
and my epitome of low
Everywhere I venture, you follow--to every corner of the earth
You will trail me till my day of death
and have done so since my birth
You are my legacy
my loneliness
my love
the chaos in my own mind
and the olive branch in the beak of the dove
You are my song
my choir
my voice--the forced and the choice
the total of my being and keeper of my lies
knower of my secrets, my deceptions, my disguise
You are my evils,
my saints
my in-betweens
The mouth through which I've spoken, the ears through which I've heard
and the eyes through which I've seen
You are my truths
my flaws
my perfections
the rain in my days, my clear-sky nights,
the real me in my reflections.
                                                                                                                                          

A Certain Ecstasy

The things your voice can do to me
sends tremors through my spine.
It is a certain ecstasy
to know that you are mine.
                                                                                                                                

Of Betrayal and Time

Cynical grins
Hateful tears
Fallible loves
Unfounded fears
Constricted breaths
Immobile hands
Gullible eyes
Fickle sands
Tested lungs
Uncounted hate
Fighting in vain
One apology too late
                                                                                                                                         

 Lonely Teardrops

And if the tears we shed between us
share our lonely fate
they will disappear into the ground
kept alive by fear of hate.

And 'despair' is too melancholic a word
too dramatic--but drowning is real.
In the ocean of our lonely teardrops,
we'd be willing to die just to feel,

to remember what it's like to feel,
to have the skin to touch.
The teardrop currents divide us,
and spread-eagled, I die, saying 'I miss you this much.'
                                                                                                                                               

 Sonnet of Raven

Thine eyes, seen by burning lamplight, gold as rays
from fiery sun. Fiery, thine iris' glow.
To claim greater beauty seen other days
is to challenge even Athena's know.

Vivacious locks unfurl beneath thine crown,
dark as night, as coals, as black raven's breast,
soft as velvet, as raven's silky down,
spiraling coils, deep sea waves', dips and crests

Thine spirit, free as flute in raven's throat,
free as raven's song, lifted upon wing.
Nothing lovely as thine smile, nor the note
upon which truest of ravens still sing.

Not once I denied song from a raven,
Nor red-rosed kiss from such a maiden.
                                                                                                                                                               

Reflections
[a poem from the points of view of four different young women]

Looking at my own reflection,

I can see what you cannot.

I see into the depths of my soul

To the insides where I rot.

I am perfect on the outside,

Polished, primed, and pretty,

But on the inside, all alone,

I feel ashamed and gritty.

I am lonely on the inside,

Where no one else can see;

It seems I am surrounded by a circle of friends,

But they are just followers who want from me.

Everyone wants to be perfect (‘just like me’),

But they don’t know what it’s like

To see what I see in the mirror at night—

Looking in my own reflection.

Looking at my own reflection

I can see what you choose not to see:

I see a thinker, a poet, an inventor, an artist…

All potential things inside of me.

I am invisible to you—

You’ve probably never looked at me

I’m just someone too ugly to notice,

Not as perfect, nor as pretty.

I want to amount to something someday,

And is it too much to say ‘Hi’?

It’s a shame you don’t see what I can see

Looking in my own reflection.

Looking in my own reflection

I can see what you look past:

A creative person, and caring,

But always chosen last.

All I am to you is a ‘freak;’

Sporting black,

I must be dull and bleak.

You think I’m lonely and foolish,

Without a mind of my own,

But that’s not how I am

When I am alone.

You say I’m ‘abnormal,’

Too ‘dark,’ too ‘shady.’

You say I can’t have morals

Because I’m not a ‘normal young lady.’

People, they see the black on my nails,

On my eyes, in my hair

And label me with disregard

That I just might care.

You think I’m disturbed,

But what I need is a friend,

Someone who loves me

Just for who I am.

I am just like you,

But different on the outside.

I see the person you won’t

When looking in my own reflection.

Looking in my own reflection

I can scream and yell.

People whisper behind my back—

Do you think I can’t tell?

You say I’m ‘too quiet,’

‘Too shy,’ ‘all alone;’

I’m afraid to be in front of people,

And away from the safely of home.

On the inside, I’m strong

But on the outside, I feel weak.

Sometimes it’s easier

To cry than to speak.

So I don’t speak in public

Because you’ll make fun of me.

I just sit in my shell

And pretend I don’t see.

But I do see the pointing

And hear the whispers and laughs;

So I stare down at my shoes

And hope you look past.

I stay in my shell,

In my home, in my prison

And hope that if I do speak someday,

Someone will listen.

Until that day does come—

And I know that it will,

I look in my mirror

And scream as loud as I can

Looking in my own reflection.

Ingénue’s Avowal

To sing this song, a ballad true,
from an inspiration I must draw
I remember our passion, I think only of you
and the kindness inside that I saw

A strange encounter, the day we met
for I expected naught but to catch a sun's ray
but I heard a soft voice, a greeting as the sun set--
a lakeside paragon came my way

To see such beauty in a single frame
brought a tremble to my lip.
My handsome lover, I his only dame,
had eyes as oceans, blue deep enough to fool a ship

So began our summer romance,
hot as the nights in mid July,
but when leaves fell, we took no chance
in letting our budding affair die

Under darkness' veil we disappeared,
clutching bands of gold
For the rings would bind us, love adhere
with sealed lips, not a soul was told

As I was young, I had not a Broken heart to mend
but yours was eager for another life
a secret one, with you as my husband
One free of heartache, with me as your wife

We needed each other as a bee needs a flower
and unconditionally, we loved
love as refreshing as a spring shower
and as powerful as its flood

Until our day of no avail
when a sickness came to shore
carried on the docks of a merchant's sails
and my beloved was no more

Your fever felt hot as nights in mid July
You were damp like a spring shower's flood
Be it fate that a mortal must die
but never would out love

I recall long walks at twilight
and mornings waking next to you
when frightened, you'd hold my hand so tight
or when greeting each day anew

So, when on stage, they expect me to sing
this aria of love unparalleled
I simply look upon my finger---a golden ring
and remember a time when I was held

So, when on stage, I reach within to hit that highest note
I close my eyes and fondly reminisce of you
You'd be pleased, for had it not been for the curse upon the trader's boat
Your deepest dream for me would not have come true