A Lesbian Fairy Tale

She wore bows in her hair

But he wasn’t man enough to dare

Leggings made him fly

He was just that kind of guy

 

Ribbons on her dress

Caused him distress

Gloves on her arms

Caused him alarm

Six perfected jewels

And two shoes that made him dance

 

Lover lost his chance

He lost his chance

 

She wore ribbons on her stockings

She wore silver painted jewels

All the men who really loved her

Knew in love that they were fools

 

Ribbons on her dress

Caused them distress

Gloves on her arms

Caused them alarm

Six perfected jewels

And two shoes that made them dance

 

Lovers lost their chance

They lost their chance

 

She wore diamond little slippers

She wore her hair up high to god

One day she found a lover

And surprise – her name was Maud

 

Maud wore ribbons on her stocking

Maud wore silver painted jewels

And when she finally found her

She realized both were no longer stuck with fools

 

Ribbons on her dress

Caused her to bless

Gloves on her arms

Gave up her charms

Twelve perfected jewels

Four shoes that made them dance

 

Lovers got a chance

They got a chance

Thoughts

A silver lining in the sky

Pressed the light against the glass

then fell 10,000 feet

only to surrender to the dark survivor

who then filled the sky with fragments of sparkled fire

the sparrows fled when the winds pushed away the clouds

The sun, broken on the earth

walked amongst the forgiving, forgotten by the living.

Change

Yesterday, I was walking along the coast.

Today, I woke up in the desert sand.

Yesterday, I was traveling all through Lebanon.

Today, I woke up in Japan.

Yesterday, I danced between the pyramids.

Today, I woke up near a church.

Yesterday, I found what I was looking for.

Today, I’m on a search.

Yesterday, I roamed the streets of a metropolis.

Today, I woke up near the sea.

Yesterday, I found myself in slavery.

Today, I woke up and I was free.

After a dream:

After a dream, I found myself naked in the kitchen with only an onion and an angle to keep me from drowning.

My instinct was to let go but in my dream there was an eagle and it roamed over mountains and it soared over lakes.

Only after an uncertain amount of time the eagle lost its flight and began to fall.

 

After a dream the onion became sour and brought water to my eyes.

It burned but I held on to keep from drowning.

The angle taunted me.

The burning grew, but I fought it because in my dream there was a desert flower and it stood tall in the vast, open sands.

Never brought down by unforeseen weather or unhappy creatures.

Only after an uncertain amount of time the flower died of thirsts.

The rain never came its way.

 

After a dream, I found myself naked in the kitchen with only an onion and an angle to keep me from drowning.

no regrets

I damaged my reputation,
and woke up on the floor.

Must have been on a roll.
But I should have known.
Should have figured out.
You weren’t here to stay

Could have been a dream
But I woke up in a sweat
Lip-gloss and contusions
What confusions.

There’s no regret
There’s no regret

Damaged my relationship
I woke up on the floor

I have a reputation to up hold
And it’s my lucky day
What should I say?
You were always told

But I should have known
Should have figured out.
What you were on about.

Busted mirror, what a fight
Broken night.
The sun was long to set

And there’s no regret
there’s no regret

…at least not yet.

Awakening

I woke up today,

realized I had been hiding away

self-destruction came at a cost

total oblivion and I was lost

I had faded away, fallen asleep

Buried in a hole I dug too deep

My insight had melted away

So finally I had to wake up today

Today, I finally awoke to see

The melted pieces that had once been me

The rain would never come to fall

and I was wasteing the sun and all

I had nothing left but this empty hole

A dizzy heart and a friggid soul

Wishful thinking was my distraction

But I awoke today and begged for action

I’m ready now to turn up the pace

take up creation, and fill my space

To a college student:

Folded desk, empty chair.
Stale eyes. Cold, blank stare.
I show up…but its hard to care.
Math class makes me tired.

I even slept. I even ate..
Early bedtime. Woke up late.
Drank caffeine to sit up straight.
But for math I can’t get wired.

Well shit…I tried to stay away
I even tried to blaze and bake
But even when my grade is at stake…
well at least I can’t get fired.

I try to think but my eyes say no!
Slowly sleep comes…away I go.
Stupid math problem…I still don’t know.
Math class makes me tired.

Lust

I left it wide open and when you saw

The words written on the bed

you looked at me

the way a thirsty soldier looks at water

 

The noise founds its way through my window

and the lock was broken

 

when you saw the pictures smeared across the wall

you looked at me

the way a hungry child looks at bread

 

I left the closet light turned on all evening

when you saw the darkness painted on the floor

you looked at me 

the same way Dante looked at Beatrice

and it was heaven that was dead…

Honey Season

Honey season.

The yellow bee beneath the tree. 

Turn my light back into ground.

Again arise the sun.

See what life has done.

If you turn to me into the light,

I’ll but envision the morning.

Forget the summer night.

Honey season.

The purple pulsates to a shade of white.

The silver fly beneath the sky

Again sets the moon over clouds of white and grey

The colors stray,

Honey season….

It ends today.

Signs

I have a silver spoon. 

A dandelion.

But these birds get suck on power-lines.

Again, are out of time.

An array of ancient warning signs.

I seek a new vocation.

To escape a haunting dream.

A clear, new destination.

To avoid just falling free.

I have a broken mirror.

Chipped and scratched.

A broken lock, again unlatched.

My door is open…but my eyes can’t see.

Warning signs won’t set me free.

These power-lines were meant for me.

Old Lover

Love is just icing on a burnt cake.

And I wanted a condo and a house on the lake!

I wanted a husband, not a 25 year old child.

Someone dedicated, relaxed, and over being wild.

What a shmuck…seriously. He had nothing in tact.

Sure..talent and brilliance.. but seriousness…he lacked!

What was I too do? He loved me and stayed.

But while I was working he went out and played!

He told me he loved me and then he got a tattoo…

of my name on his shoulder…so really…what was I to do?

The fool loved me! What’s love? It would never pay the bills.

But money doesn’t satisfy…. It’s LOVE that fulfills!

Well…it’s nice that he cared and built my desk from Ikea..

But he smoked to much puff and had not one new idea.

So its hardly a surprise that I fell for my boss.

Corporate…a condo…and a puppy named Ross!

Poetry

Here is a poem. To put on your shelf.

Found later underneath an old scarf and a tatterted shoe.

One that was kind of cute…

once.

 

Here is a poem sir. I write it for you.

You can forget it now.

I must be full of shit anyways

as are you too.

 

Here madame. This poem is for you.

It represents my love.

And everything you care less about.

Well…at least that is true.

Dollie’s Tale (part 4)

Dollie wears her hair with braided bits and purple bells.

The bows with which she ties the bits sparkle slightly in the sun.

Her hair is heaped high with honey to keep the aroma about her dress.

Dollie was born as porcelain and he heart was made of glass.

When she cries.. a lime, liquid poison pours instead of tears.

She only ever understands the sadness and the darkness in the world.

But her souls feels no emotion and she never feels regret.

Dollie makes the most malicious kind of evil…

and she isn’t sorry yet.

Parting from old friends:

Lines diverge into a bland color of black and brick

…grey and beige

What rainbow cares to stay?

Each color fades… and parts on its way.

Why mimic the past?

Be still. Separation won’t last.

Blue fades away, turns its back…

Departs into a darkness… similar to black.

Yellow melts and envelopes the sun

The rays only finish what life has begun

And then the green stays grounded as the grass

Purple pales into the past.

As orange becomes the fruit of dead

The blood runs cold and turns to red

Past Unpreserved

My life is in boxes

But how can I categorize the days?

How do I leave behind a place,

Where my heart still stays?

 

My memories are folded

The past tossed inside

A box of treasures and adventures,

Where the mysteries hide.

 

My life is in boxes

And yet still unpreserved

My efforts are useless

But are they deserved?

 

The boxes are new

But the memories turn stale

The past melts like a mint

And the old life becomes frail

 

My life is in boxes

But how can I package the past?

How do I keep it from fading?

How will I make this last?

Meteor Shower

Painted strokes across the sky

Brush of my life.

 

Expressed exhilaration of a thousand burning sparks

Fill my sky-

Fill my life-

 

A thousand burning wishes

Like falling in love

Like feeling the rain

Like falling asleep

Like the pleasure, immortality and inexpressible  pain

 

This is the same dream I had last night

And the sunlight is never to come

 

The eclipse of my life

So here we go… into the atmosphere.

 

 

Ancient energies melting with the horizon

And the sky intertwined with the ground

 

The world rained fire

The sky cried flames

The ocean reflected illumination

 

And my life breathed the smoke

And my heart enveloped the light

And my soul exhaled away the darkness…

Nature’s Bliss.

Fingertips to lips.

The sensations spreads through every compression in the face.

Sit in silence.

Inhale thoughts with a strong stench of blossom bits and fragrant seeds.

Enlightened: the mind awakens.

The trees are leafier… the food is tastier.

Each pore unhinges and releases broken tension.

An ultimate release of enigmatic energy.

Soothing forgetfulness and a dull blaze of wind.

An impulse to smile… laugh… remember.

The world opens

The wind overturns

And the wild calms itself into a deep serenity.

Green, green earth.

Flowers you bestow upon the lustful

Natures temptation for a state of bliss.

Chaos

No time for writing

Everything is in chaos.

I need some coffee.

Blood

Thirsty for your wrists slit sideways.

I want to see you cry sometimes.

 

I’m not that kind of girl.

But you make my quill shiver

Each door rattles on its hinges.

 

Your eyes make me thirsty…

and I’m craving blood.

 

Sometimes I just want to hear you laugh.

But even depending on the moment…

I always want your blood

 

The strings of on your guitar pluck away and force the clouds to appear in mild dissary

and you make the venom run cold

right through each individual pore.

 

With each gasp of poisoned air

I feel the blood.

758 Torreya St.

There must be 758 houses on Torreya street…at least.

What is a house?

Is it a home?

If you go back to your house…are you going home?

I thought if I followed the path, I’d be back.

But instead I only want to go away again.

Escape.

Too bad there is no place to go.

758 Torreya. The windows are shut, the yard is fenced…and the door is locked.

Can home be any more welcoming?