Month: April 2022

In an upside down world
On an upside down face
A smile was there
But a frown took its place

Someone important had gone
To a far away land
Where she was left struggling
Not able to grasp a hand

When she went away,
Any sort of happiness had gone too
With not a clue on what to do.
She was gone as quick as light

Now the only thing left is night
No brightness able to slip through
The shards of our hearts. Broken
The world felt empty the hope it’s a trick, a taboo

Her slight eye glancing at me, ready,
My feet in thin brown boots,
Slide fluently into their rusty position
Across the reflective wood beneath us,
She takes her stance with silence
The wind killing all sprouts of new conversation

My fingers slide over my soft, gold streaked hair
The very touch of the sleak blade,
My hand jumps back
The feeling of burning white fire coursing through my fingertips
Hidden by the shadows of my concern
And the black coals of regret filling the air
My twinge of doubt streaks across my face
The tinges of feeling sliding out,
Into the world forming the thick grey cloud
Silhouetting my body

I tug at my free hand the feeling of a million tons at my side lifting
I force the thought away once more,
Clenching my fist into the pain of needles in flesh
Letting my eyelids close,
I fear that tears of lost pain will come
My focus on the new enhanced ones
The fire in my fingers inflates as I reach,
Sliding the blade from my back

I take a cool deep breath,
The cloud pulsing with me
I rush toward her feeling the cold wind at my cheeks
The quiet birds chirping
The green grass blowing
The soft beauty
The intense pain

With each slash of searing pain that comes with my wield
The damp clouds follow,
Leaving only the devoured corps of my will
Consuming all known
Consuming all beauty
Only letting me pass without forgiveness,
Hostile

The sun’s peak is over,
It fades into a downfall,
It glances over the horizon to take one last look,
But it catches the moon approaching its crown.

Oh so jealous it makes the sun,
Out of spite, the sun lingers on the horizon,
It paints the sky with oranges and pinks to overshadow the moon.

The sun thinks highly of itself knowing it won the battle,
But it must disappear until morning, so the sky fades to dark and the sun is gone,
Until tomorrow the moon rules the sky.

Windows,
Openings into a new world,
A place better than your own,
A place that might deceive your mind.

Windows,
Shattered by sound,
Shattered by rock,
Shattered by the world.

Windows,
Trashed,
Hopelessly lost,
Why try when you will always be replaced?

Windows,
Things that can be covered physically,
That will always be open mentally,
Built with fear of being seen,
Paranoia can take over in the mind of the ruminator.

Windows,
Reflecting,
Self and light,
Shattering the perception of who you pretend to be,
Allowing you to see yourself as you truly are.

The day brings frosty boots,
Chirping birds,
Hopping rabbits,
Twinkling lights on trees,
Smoke flowing from chimneys,
And houses dusted in white.

The night brings darkness,
The only light coming from the sky,
Purple and green snakes slither above,
Specks of gleaming dots sparkle around them,
They continue through the snow and disappear into the day,
Only to reappear when the sky goes dark.

Be gone whisper,
Leave me in peace,
Your muttering will not control me longer,
Your ego will not devour me,
You will not win the war,
I will be your puppet no longer,
I will overcome and take control of my voice,
I will be me once more.

The sun shrinks down into the ground
To let the moon come out.

The sun is done, had its turn
Now it’s time for the moon to learn.

The day will leave and the night will rise
The loudness, clouds, and bright blue sky.

Say goodbye and fade away
Into the traces and remains of day
It’s time for quiet darkness to stay.

The people all go silent
The animals all turn and watch
To see the last of light
Finally fade away.

Like hourglass sand, only lasting a moment,
Then quickly turns to dark.

Now comes the dreaded time
For silence to play its part
Its lonely, cold reign only lasting the night.

But now we can only move on and wait
For the time to arise the following day
It will come, so do not fret,
The bright golden haze of a sunset.

The stars they shine,
Ever bright,
Tonight.
“How I wish I could make them all mine,”
He said with a distant look in his eyes.

In a bottle it rested on his floor.
By his bed aside his door.
“It will pulsate and gleam forever more!”
He was sure.

And then along came greed,
It was planted in him like a seed.
It filled him with desire and need.
I should have plucked it like a weed.

It was that greed that did him in.
He kept them in glasses and in tin.
Oh, how happy we could have been,
If I had rid him of his sin.

I remember the day I was shown,
How he made the stars his own.
That horrific power he could hone,
And how it chilled me to the bone.

Late that night,
Out of spite,
I told him it was wrong to steal the light.
And of course this resulted in a fight.

We went our separate ways,
How lost I was for days.
Oh, I miss those shining rays.
Now the night is just shades of grays.

The stars they don’t shine,
Ever bright,
Any night.
“How I wish I hadn’t made them all mine,”
He said with a distant look in his eyes.

Most people think he’s dead,
Despite all the things I’ve said.
After all these years I still dread,
Every night when I go to bed.

The air, the breeze, the smell of sea
The marvelous, majestic, magical beach.

Waves so blue, splishing and splashing, crashing and pushing against the sand
Splish! Splash! Up with the water, in the gap.

The water cold, it stretches long, past the skyline where you can see
That goes on indefinitely.

The deepest dark depths, the lightest blue
The sea green deep washing up anew.

The ocean is throwing away what’s no use
Sucking in the treasures it holds.

The sand crunching underneath the feet of many many
Animals and things.

The seagulls laughing, the crabs pinching, the ocean still swishing
Everlasting night and day, the waves of water here to stay.

The moon, the sun, the light of day
The waves crushing everything like an avalanche moving what’s in its way.

When it comes, the fish hide, the crabs collide under the sand
Night and day, no matter the way, the ocean is here to stay.

What is a story
When said without voice?
Whose words are not heard
Unless by choice
Stories are meant to
FLY
Meant to
SPREAD
But not meant as stuck
To paper and ink
Bound by words
Locked in writing
When a story is told, however
There’s no way of knowing
Who’s told it before
Because a story was spread
From people to people
To places and other, it has been
HEARD
Has been
REMEMBERED
Stories cannot do that on their own
Can they?
Unless a story tells itself
Which would be a true story to tell
A story of a story
Who tells itself
And someday
There will be a story
To tell
Of that.