NarrativePoetry

VIII. … And War now falls upon the world And with it brings a Hell; For those who live and love a doom, In darkness they’ll now dwell. Their screams will arise among the gloom And Death shall ring the bell. He will not fight; he runs and gives His help, a healing breath. They look in wonder as he grieves, And leaves without a trace: How one who suffered so much death Still had so kind a face. … The War goes on, and now they fear The lonely man who flies. His race’s crimes now mar the box That drops out of the skies. He can’t go on, and he gives in, And in despair he dies. X. ... Whatever gods reign up abo

He stole the box and now he runs Away from friends and kin To see the world, to see the stars That was so small a sin With sentence bleak his future mars And does so with a grin. The fourth dimension his to roam, The universe’s call, Beneath wide heaven's coloured dome It sounds: “Come see them all, The clouds, the moons that shine like chrome, The worlds that rise or fall!” And all he needs, a hand to hold Her laughter in his ears This young, young man who looks so old And has no time for tears The frightened one who acts so cold And laughs when danger nears. And then he learns to love as well And grumbles all the way Wi

The Blue is kind; she knows –I’ve never told her, But still she feels, her child, I cannot hold her. The tides of Time are tearing us apart; For Fate has –always had- the cruelest heart. We're haunted, we are hunted, and we run, Till all our times are written, one by one. The pages fill and memory’s awoken, How we both fell in loneliness unbroken, In shadows how we ran, stranger and lover Secrets and dangers striving to discover, And how I wouldn’t, couldn’t trust you for a while, (how so much pain did mar her precious smile), And how you whispered sadly, a great love’s token The name, the knowledge

We‘ve won again. We always do. (Well, no, not quite.) And with a little help this time -renewed promise of home, the long way round- But that is good, it’s new, exciting! Still. The unexpected victories bring twice the joy. He stands in pain. He stands in peace. He scatters pieces of himself around, across the floor. I wrote a sequel since you too do not like endings. (Because everything ends. But not today.) For all of you, I break the rules, I’ll try again. Cause that’s a better story. (It was the best, you know. And ever shall be.) Always, always, I tell you. One more vow. And you, forget me not. (The times we&

You, always you, you perfect, glorious ones, who make the starless skies shine joyous morning. Oh you, who laugh and gaze and cry with wonder, upon the miracles the ageless eye can’t see. You friends, whose casual talk holds back the nightmares, whose laugh becomes a breath of tender spring, whose tears awaken buried, ancient sorrow, whose death invites the horrid raging storm. Yours is the hand that keeps the precious balance, that steadies him who’s standing on the edge the universe, a load on aching shoulders; and if you leave, well then, he falls, uncaring his wings of fire too old and far too broken. And then another comes,

springtime is here in this tower we live in and its lonelier here than it seems because everyone's smaller in ivory halls and food doesn't last any longer i write smaller talk smaller breathe smaller in here and the food doesn't last any longer and these people i've known for all of my life haven't left they're still trying to kill me

I learned my metaphors and rhyme schemes In a sea of broken glass I drew strength from all the ghosts that grew In other peoples pasts I left my church, I left my people With their pedestals and pain And I can rhyme my way through trauma Born by women without names And when I left and there was nothing But wisps of clouds and space I prayed to lovers I'd imagined And used knife blades as a brace But now I'm sitting in this city With its cigarettes and smoke And I wash these wounds in rainbows And the love you said you'd broke I am light, I am refraction You can't cleave the sky in two So keep your glory and salvation And the name I never

Dear Mother, A glance at my calendar, much to my distress, right now these feelings, I must confess. It's Mother's Day once again and my heart is filled with sorrow, that may never mend. I'm trying to make it through today without tears this year, just like all the rest of the years. I sit here to dwell and morn with what once was had, has now been forever torn. This day never ceases to remind me how I'm without and fills me with an overflowing doubt. Makes me regret how little the days with you were spent and I ponder where all those precious memories could have went. If only I knew back then what I know now and my life, the knowledge,

On loving glass women Glass men And glass gods On welding your hands To curved iron rods On fruit made of sunlight That burns when you eat On wars that you fight With shattered retreats On grey trees And grey neighbors Grey houses Grey time On boundaries of smoke And holograph lines On the girl made of starstuff And the boy forged in coal On babies held hostage On shards in your soul On trauma that's bitter And trauma that's sweet On candy nails And broken feet