I’ve removed all fiction from this site. Sorry for those of you wanting more but it’s just too difficult to keep updated this way. Keep your heads up for more poetry coming soon!
Okay, I’m done playing with Reading Pleasures. I’ll be posting my 2009 reviews as I finish them. I also have my favorite 12 books I read in 2008 with reviews. Oh, and the ‘master list’ of everything I’m reading (starting at the beginning of 2008). Anyway, check it out!
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The iced trees are dripping cherries.
They stain the moist concrete.
If sprouts are to come they will find the world changed.
The world is not ready for blossom.
The chilled wind shakes the tree gently.
Oh when will your green awaken?
I feel the pain growing heavy.
Unwanted eyes slowly shift their gaze.
No more thoughts of iced cherries.
Only the petal that has withered away.
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Moderately Severe Depression
No suicidal tendencies.
Blood pressure normal.
Heart rate good.
Moderate panic disorder
Currently under control.
Insomnia and Hypersomnia
At varying times.
Weight gain.
Loss of energy.
Mild mood disorder.
Bouts of severe stress.
Susceptible to viruses and infections.
Severe headaches daily.
Severe migraines twice a week.
Difficulty concentrating.
Memory loss.
Unable to think clearly.
Bleak gray surrounding me, filling me,
Not ever inching towards black.
Calm waves wash over me,
Caressing my dried flesh.
The sand penetrates my feet
Creating a dull ache.
What is dream and reality?
I can’t tell the difference.
I lay here deep in thought
Not wanting to ever leave.
Lost deep in thought,
Too many thoughts at once.
Everything penetrates my defenses.
I wince at the onslaught of the sun
And scream into the light.
The thoughts leave my mind
As the beach and water disappears
And is replaced only by the bleak gray.
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It is a rare gift, the unopened flower
Patiently awaiting its own bloom.
From budding to wilting
From wilting to budding
It creates art as it lives
As it dies
Transformation is its existence
The cycles of life
Of death its routine
Saint Dionysus. This is he.
He is this rare gift, this orchid
A rare beauty in both substance and form
A depth so limitless and unfathomable
That only the few recognize it.
He is both dark and vibrant
Dark and vibrant as an orchid
Dark and vibrant like me.
Living and dying are simply states of being
The details of existence matter not
The quality of existence is always striven for,
The beauty,
The substance
The orchid unfolds its petals and reaches out
Towards all the unsuspecting admirers of art
This is a beauty they have never before imagined
Never before dreamed
This is a beauty rare in sight
In thought
In time
This is Saint Dionysus
The orchid is he, both dark and vibrant
Dark and vibrant like me.
Contrasting hues layered upon
Contrasting mythological tales
A saint in honor of the only male child
Born from father Zeus himself,
He walks untamed as ivy honoring
Art, beauty, love, wine,
Insanity and ecstasy:
Two sides of a coin
Dark and vibrant is this Saint Dionysus
Dithyrambic and free
Dark and vibrant as an orchid
Dark and vibrant like me.
Posted in Poetry, Solitary Poems | 1 Comment »
Screaming mothers clutch onto their dead infants.
Bombs blind the eyes of the dead.
The little girl with the wide eyes watches while hugging her kitten.
The fathers are shot at point blank range.
Why have the mothers lost their sanity?
Why have the fathers abandoned their families?
The dead tell us why but we cannot hear.
Me, the little girl with the wide eyes, watches with tears.
When will this masquerade end?
When will life feel comfortable again?
When will I feel at home?
Too much fighting, too many tears.
My house.
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I am wanting to
Reclaim the songs that memories stole,
Feel the rhythms surround me,
Float atop the melodies,
Sing among the clouds.
Every note, every breath
Which resides within me
Has always been of this substance,
The ethereal substance that is song.
Memories attacked me with song.
I could no longer handle the sound
Of this music which loved me so.
At last it is time for a remedy.
I sit here now,
Reclaiming the songs that memories stole,
Feeling the rhythms surround me,
Floating atop the melodies,
Singing among the clouds.
I will not leave myself wanting.
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My eyes cry out for violets.
Whispering voices tell me it’s okay.
“Everything will be fine.”
Yet with each new sun the pain grows.
My thoughts wane with the moon.
All I long for now is comfort.
All I desire is violet.
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No longer does the water frighten me,
Yet I am still unable to dive in.
The air is where my spirit resides
Yet I long for water with a passion unknown.
I have seen twenty fallen.
My watermark is faint and seems faded,
Yet I know that it has only begun to appear.
The stars yearn madly for the earth
While I desire the precious moon.
I have seen twenty fallen.
Desert sands ride upon the wind
While I count stars that have escaped.
Darkness eneters where light once was.
I cannot even hesitate for
I have seen twenty fallen.
Nothing can destroy the scene
That’s replayed in my dreams.
Both visions amiable and most horrid
Fill my grieving mind.
I have seen twenty fallen.
I gaze upon the darkened sky
Watching all the movements.
I know there are not stars that fall
But still the sight is beautiful.
I have seen twenty fallen.
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Tonight I gazed at the Moon.
I sat on the soiled pavement
Listening to songs of September,
Gazing upon the Full Fire Moon of August.
I watched as the thin white clouds rose,
Rose up to greet dear Selena.
I feared they would obscure her silvery light.
But not even the clouds could diminish her glory.
Selena shone as brightly as ever before
As the clouds seemed to pass behind her.
Tonight I gazed at the Moon
Feeling the gentle breeze upon my face
And allowing myself to be at peace.
The cool air soothed all the lines of friction
That burdened my lonely soul
As the Moon gazed down upon me.
Rampid thoughts ceased their chatter.
My hands became steady once more.
My neck softened and became languid.
My heart, my shattered glass, opened like a rose.
Tonight I gazed at the Moon.
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