Because of him...

Cognac diamonds lit with passion's fire
Yours is the touch that ignites my desire
Dreams of tomorrow built today
Bring perfect images to guide our way
A yearning that burns brighter than stars above
You've taught me the real meaning of love.

Contagion of Your Devotion

(Verse 1)

Alone in an endless midnight ocean
That seemed to spark and burn –
A delirious, drowning feeling
That caused my head to turn.

Eye lit with possessed fire,
Cognac diamonds in a porcelain sea
Embrace the screaming darkness
And a fear beyond possibility


(Chorus)

Battle scarred veterans
Secrets rise from yesterday
Contagion of your devotion
Always blocking the way
Where once was my heart
Now lies a gaping hole –
Your black rose stands witness
To my aching, weeping soul.


(Whispered Coda)
Those hellish fires of your soul –
All that’s left to dry your icy tears

(Repeat once)


(Verse 2)

Black flame enveloping on
A warm breeze, vanilla sweet
My hellish agony
Became your favorite treat

Delicious lips of wine and honey
Drank out my soul with each kiss
Every breath a baptism of fire –
A blaze that none could miss.


(Chorus)

Battle scarred veterans
Secrets rise from yesterday
Contagion of your devotion
Always blocking the way
Where once was my heart
Now lies a gaping hole –
Your black rose stands witness
To my aching, weeping soul.


(Whispered Coda)
Those hellish fires of your soul –
All that’s left to dry your icy tears


(Bridge)

Alone in this wild, dissolving bliss
Embrace the screaming darkness
Air almost too thick to breathe
Alone in a fragment of nothingness


(Chorus)

Battle scarred veterans
Secrets rise from yesterday
Contagion of your devotion
Always blocking the way
Where once was my heart
Now lies a gaping hole –
Your black rose stands witness
To my aching, weeping soul.


(Whispered Coda)
Those hellish fires of your soul –
All that’s left to dry your icy tears

(Repeat Coda until fade out)

Mentirosa (Revisited)

(Verse 1)

Glances exchanged across the room,
Fanning the flame of mystery.
Your eyes and lips made promises of tomorrow…
Promises never meant for me.

A whisper in the dark that hovered –
That whisper that warmed my soul –
A whisper of deceit was all it was,
One that carried a heavy toll


(Chorus)

In the back of my mind, I’m thinking
This isn’t happening, this can’t be right
But I kept my mouth shut,
Hoping and praying night after night

Alone in a fragment of nothingness
Destroyed by the power of your lies
A fear beyond the possibility of comfort
Unmasks the truth behind your eyes


(Whispered Coda)

I thought you were the one
But you broke my heart
Your betrayal crushed my spirit
And with my soul you’ll never part

(Verse 2)

Took me into your arms with that caress –
Surrounded me in the warmth of your eyes.
Twisted every word until I was possessed
Possessed by the poison of your lies.

Now you’re walking out that door,
Your new lover on your arm,
And I’m left with the pieces of our life –
Your lying did nothing but harm.


(Chorus)

In the back of my mind, I’m thinking
This isn’t happening, this can’t be right
But I kept my mouth shut,
Hoping and praying night after night

Alone in a fragment of nothingness
Destroyed by the power of your lies
A fear beyond the possibility of comfort
Unmasks the truth behind your eyes


(Whispered Coda)

I thought you were the one
But you broke my heart
Your betrayal crushed my spirit
And with my soul you’ll never part


(Bridge)
Mentirosa, how’d you find me?
Girl, you knew better from the start
Promised me forever with fire in your eyes
And all you did was break my heart


(Chorus)

In the back of my mind, I’m thinking
This isn’t happening, this can’t be right
But I kept my mouth shut,
Hoping and praying night after night

Alone in a fragment of nothingness
Destroyed by the power of your lies
A fear beyond the possibility of comfort
Unmasks the truth behind your eyes


(Whispered Coda)

I thought you were the one
But you broke my heart
Your betrayal crushed my spirit
And with my soul you’ll never part

(Repeat to fade)

Update and new writing

Okay, so I haven't posted in a while, but there is great news that is most definitely post-worthy.

What, you may ask, could prompt me to be so excited about posting?

I am currently awaiting proof copies of a book of my poetry that is being published. The book is called Nyte Songs: A Selection of Vampyric Poetry, and it's already got an ISBN number and everything!!

I'll be sure to let everyone know when the book is available for purchase!

And, in honor of that, I've been so inspired to write that I have decided to participate in NaNoWriMo (http://www.nanowrimo.org/) this year. My juices are flowing, and I'm just waiting for November 1st to start working on my opus. Maybe this will be the year I finish a novel and start shopping it around to agents and major publishing houses.

Also, I have revisited and reworked the lyrics to a song I wrote that is pubilshed on this blog (Mentirosa) and wrote a new set of lyrics (Contagion of Your Devotion). I shall be posting both very shortly. (If anyone knows of someone who can set lyrics to music, please let me know. I'd LOVE to hear my lyrics set to something!!)

Enjoy :)

The Dump

As I was cleaning out the attic this weekend, I found all sorts of old junk that I had forgotten was even there. Of course, when I first stumbled upon my “treasures,” I wanted to keep everything I saw. Why would I have kept them in the first place? But, after pouring through box after box of broken toys and ripped parchment, I convinced myself that my “treasures” were ready for their final resting place. Being as this was Saturday and that trash pick-up day wasn’t until Wednesday, it required a trip to… the dump. Even now, I wince at the thought of having to brave the ever-present gloom that reigns there. The dump is a strange yet repulsive place… a place where people tend to bury the human spirit along with their trash.

From the main road, entering the dump looked like you were entering the grounds of a federal prison – and we’re not talking “Club Fed”. The perimeter was surrounded by an eight-foot high chain link fence with barbed wire invitingly curled around the top of each section. Following the slow procession of vehicles to the front gate, I noticed a man peeking through the blinds of a dirty office building. The building’s grey exterior was peeling away, the result of prolonged exposure to the toxic environment of hair spray cans, dirty baby diapers, and rotten banana peels. As soon as the man noticed me looking back, he hurriedly closed the blinds.

A man in filthy grey coveralls was standing out front to interrogate each passerby about their garbage. “Do you have any used batteries?” “Are you disposing of hazardous materials?” “Are you dumping used oil?” The list of questions went on and on for what felt like forever – until you were ready to surrender and admit to smuggling in a bag full of non-biodegradable Styrofoam containers just to make the man leave you alone. You’d even be willing to sign a confession in blood just to make this guy quit asking the never-ending parade of questions.

As I drove on into the interior sanctum of the dump, I noticed another unsightly building high upon a hill, overshadowing the recycling bins. This one had to be twenty-five feet tall and draped with rusted old sheet metal. The building looked like it had been rammed into by a wrecking ball at least a million times, and that it would collapse upon that million and first time, taking everything in it straight to hell. Trucks full of furniture, brush, and tree limbs were unloaded inside of the building – the dump’s own execution chamber. Within the walls of this building contained the largest crushing machine on the premises. When it activated, it made torturous scraping noised accompanied by splintering crackles. You could almost hear the death screams of each abandoned couch or chair as it was tossed into the machine like yesterday’s newspaper.

The stench was overpowering, unbearable – an odor of death mixed with the acrid aroma of despair. The wind stirred and brought along with it the stench of long-forgotten, abandoned, used baby diapers. I pulled my shirt up over my nose, trying to filter the bitterness through the lingering scent of fabric softener and my body spray, but it was too much for my crude attempt to hands.

I choked back a gag as I saw a fat rat fumbling with a half-rotted McDonald’s bag, oozing slimy aged lettuce and ketchup as it did. Weeds bordering the fence were littered with plastic wrappers, Styrofoam cups, and other non-biodegradable materials. Polluted water was seeping out of the dumpsters and had formed stagnate puddles infested with thousands of tiny, spasmodic worms.

I wondered how anyone could work in this foul environment and remain healthy, either physically or mentally. I also wondered how the county could afford to pay anyone enough to work in this harsh, alien terrain.

Most of the people at the dump all had the same blank expression on their faces, void of any emotion except perhaps disgust. They came in like robots, emptied their trash, and sped away as fast as possible without running someone else over.

There was, however, a sub-culture at the dump – those people disdainfully referred to as “Dumpster Divers” by most of the public. One of these dumpster divers, a man whose pants would not stay up and had dipped low enough to reveal a full inch and a half of his butt crack, was crawling through a dumpster full of old washers and dryers. At one point he surfaced, wiping his sweating face with one grimy hand, and paced back and forth furiously like he was contemplating the meaning of life… the world… and everything. Suddenly, he dove back in like he’d discovered the world’s greatest treasure at the bottom of this metallic coffin. No one paid attention to him… they all pretended his existence was nothing more than a mere shadow or trick of light.

At the next dumpster over, a young man was throwing away heavy, black plastic trash bags full of roofing shingles. The reason I know this? One of the bags caught the corner of the dumpster and ripped open while the young man was hurling it into the dumpster, causing shingles to rain down on the ground like torn piece of black hail. This caught my attention because he was standing almost directly under a sign that read, “ABSOLUTELY NO CONTRACTOR OR CONSTRUCTION DEBRIS.”

Within minutes, a man wearing a coffee-stained T-shirt and hat bearing the county’s logo approached the young offender. He asked, “Hey, sonny, whatcha got in them bags?”

The young man shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Just some old garbage.”

Knowing that the young man was lying, but not really caring enough to call him on it, the old man sneered a sinister yellow grin and said, “Them bags look awfully heavy, son. Are you sure you don’t have any body parts in there?”

They both laughed, and I decided to leave them alone. After all, my task was now finished.

So I left that eerie, malodorous place. I drove away from the dump as quickly as I could before I could bury my spirit – my very humanity – along with the trash I had dumped. The dump is death personified – a graveyard laden with the excesses of society. I ran away – far, far away – from the dump before it could sink its claws into me, infecting me with its decomposition and melancholy.

A Dark So Heavy

You know me. Deep down in the depths of your psyche, you know me very well. I am the thing lurking at the very edges of your world, where reality and illusion blur together. I am the ravenous creature that fed on your fears as a child – the monster in the closet; the bogeyman hiding under your bed, waiting to snatch you when your defenses were at their lowest. You didn’t realize what I was then, did you? Only when you were older… wiser… and more alone than ever did it dawn on you what I was. But you couldn’t verbalize it – couldn’t find the words to describe what was happening.

You have always thought me a monster, and I am. I am your personal monster. Your parents always told you I wasn’t real, but you never believed them. You could feel my cold icy fingers reaching for your heart in the darkness of midnight. You could feel the weight of my presence pressing down on you like that of a lover… a lover more concerned with your pain than your pleasure.

You cried tears into the pillow after your parents left you, assuring you there wasn’t anything there – that small pillow with the daisy-patterned pillowcase that your mother fluffed for you every night before kissing you good night. Once they left, you could feel me invading, and the tears would flow, staining the cotton case through to the pillow itself. I liked those tears. No offering could have been more delicious. I licked them off your pillow… from your cheeks, your lips, your eyes. Savoring their salty, fear-tinged taste, I licked you to sleep.

You should thank me. I was the only one who would ever touch you. Even when everyone else claimed to love you, I was still the only one to touch you. Every time you touched yourself, I was there – hiding in your fingers, wrapped around your skin like the lingering scent of a rose. Want to be touched now? There’s no one else who will do it – it’s just you and me. Together.

It was more fun as you got older. Feeding on your fear, that is. More pain – from your friends, your family, but never from me. I would devour you once they had finished destroying the few dreams you’d built around you. Sucking out the hope with deep strokes of my tongue. I made my home in that heavy pit of emptiness within your heart. Grown sick of closets, that’s where I felt my most comfortable – finally one with you.

Did you feel me there? Could you feel my icy touch when the one you wished to love pushed you away? Just a little push at first – a nudge, really. Then harder when you didn’t go… harder and harder, words and actions cutting you to the quick and searing your soul. Again! Again! It was good for me. Was it good for you too?

Feeling a little strange now? Don’t blame me. I wasn’t the one who placed the razor in your hand. It was slick for me though… and so sweet. The cuts from the razors left a small tinge of burgundy and that salty, acrid taste of blood. The taste was a million times sweeter than that of your tears – blood that told of the emptiness welling just beneath your breast.

You surprised me, you know, when you started to hit yourself. Just a few smacks here and there – your shoulders, your head – in an attempt to drive me away. But you can’t drive me out in such a cowardly way. So go ahead coward, bash your head against the wall; beat your shoulders; bruise your chest. Only one thing will drive me away, and that would take guts. And inverting into yourself – into that pit I made – is a coward’s way out. And it makes your blood sweeter. The smell is exquisite – blood tainted with orchids and vanilla – and I only grow stronger. I’m like an undertow – so dark, so heavy, and so cold.

What do you expect now? Standing there naked as you are, razor in hand. Do you want me to take that first cut? I won’t, you know. I’ll make you inflict that upon yourself. But when that first stroke of the razor does come, I’ll be ready. I’ll be there to lick at the blood as it drips to the floor, feeding and taking away the tears from your lips.

Trapped in my chains of loneliness and sadism, I’m all you have.

It’s almost complete, that special place deep within that only I can touch. It’s the part of you that knows. No longer lurking under beds, behind the dresser, or in the closet, I am with you – the only one who loves you. I’m the only one who aches to touch your lips, feel your breath, kiss your skin. I will feed forever with you as we are bound by a dark so heavy.

Bumba's Stomache

(African Creation Myth - Boshongo Tribe)


Pain!
Consuming pain seated deep in the pit of
This immortal's stomach, and
He did his best to be rid of it.

In a blinding burst,
Bumba belched and heaved,
Bringing forth into the void
The brightness of the noonday sun.

As the sun did warm the earth,
Drying the many waters,
Bumba's stomach still ached with
A soul-devouring pain.

He heaved and heaved again,
Creating a heavenly tidal wave -
Painting the blackness of night with
The virgin moon and diamond stars.

With one last heave,
The god's pain was no longer
For he had populated the new earth with
The leopard, turtle, crocodile, and man.

Pandora

(Greek Mythology)

A punishment to mankind
For the misdeeds of living forethought,
She was put upon the Earth
With just one burning desire.
Although she tried to resist
The quiet calling of curiosity,
Caution lost the battle in
The war waged within her mind.
Thus upon the earth was visited
Horrors too many to name.
Among the worse were truly evil -
Mortal pain, sickness, envy, and greed.
Cursed to know the abject grief of
Sorrow forever more,
The foolish woman did scream
Until at last a glimmer -
The escape of hope into the world -
Did give her cause to smile once more.

Nyx

(Greek Creation Myth)

An abyssmal void-
Dark, vast, and bitterly cold -
The powerful Nyx sat alone,
No one for her to behold.
A grand idea did strike -
A beautiful golden egg she'd lay
And selflessly warm the orb,
Sacrificing herself day after day.
Years and years did past,
And still our fair Nyx
Warmed her precious golden egg
In hopes the universe would be fixed.
Until finally a large crack
Throughout the space did ring
And the two halves of the shell,
Their curvatures did bring
The atmosphere - our loving sky
And breathable, clean air;
They also brought the very Earth upon
Which the humans labored with care.

Free Write - A "Slice of Life"

An assignation at midnight, shadows wavering like black flames coming on a warm, flower-scented breeze. His laughter was rich and thick as chocolate – as if you could pull it from the air and eat it. His voice slithered into the room, low and full of promise… silken whispers in the small hours of the night. He walked into the room, as if the air boiled invisibly around him.

She stood there at the window, beautifully silhouetted in that pure white light spreading like ice over the darkness. Not beautiful and not supremely brilliant, she was filled with something that took the place of both qualities – something best described as a profound vivacity… a continual and sincere response to all that she encountered in her path through life. She was a sexual dessert of curves and points.

She whispered a greeting, a voice so close to silence that one must strain to hear it. That whisper hovered around his body like a line of warmth, a whisper of ghostly electricity.

He went to her, filled with images of his dreams. Dreams of kissing her so hard his mouth hurt; so soft his heart hurt; so long his neck hurt; so deep his throat hurt; and so completely that nothing hurts.

Standing behind her, nuzzling into her neck, this was a nocturnal visit filled with the promise of delicious physical intimacy. He savored the very sweet taste of saliva mixed with skin – skin unnaturally soft, like living velvet. She glowed like there was an ethereal light inside of her… a light only lit by the spark of his touch.

Turning to face him, her eyes drank him down like a parched man eyes a glass of water – eyes flaming with hunger, desire, and truth. Moving to his face, her eyes softened and grew liquid, a fervent passion flaring to life.

He kissed her, his lips soft as silk; gentle as rose petals; hot as the noonday sun. His tongue was a quick wetness exploring the inner reaches of her honeyed mouth. Passion roared in his ears like great waves that crash up and over the beach, never receding but only building more with each tick of the bright night’s clock.

Something inside him melted that hurt in an exquisite way. All his longings; all his dreams and sweet anguish; all the secrets held asleep within him came to life. At once everything was transformed and everything made sense. That first kiss united their souls, the spirits entwining in the very breath they breathed. And each exhalation was a baptism in fire.

He always knew that she could change minds and alter moods with just a touch, but now he knew that she could instantly take possession of a soul with just a kiss. For in that kiss, he lost his very existence.

With a voice soft, low, and more private than the setting, he whispered that he loved her. He stroked her face softly, knowing what his mother had meant when she had told his sister that love and electricity were one in the same. With every kiss, he felt a jolt in his soul; with every whisper and touch, he felt as if he’d been shocked into life.

They sighed together, an air of breathless intensity as the night turned to dawn. The coming sun was the first blue gaze of the day. This love they shared was much like a wild rose – beautiful and calm but willing to draw blood in its defense. Tested once by a merciless man to whom she’d been betrothed, he’d already shed that blood to keep her safe. Now, as they watched the sun spread its warming fingers across the sky like pale pastel ribbons, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure they would be together.

Aengus and Caer Ibormeith

(Celtic Mythology)


A lovely maiden, fair of face
And silent, ghostly form
Doth snuck into Aengus’s room
Until unrequited love hath born.
He dreamt of her nightly –
In dreams he wished to stay –
And rued the sun’s dawning
With the passing of every day.
Illness took hold of the man
And throughout body and mind did spread
Until a power physician was summoned
In fear he’d soon be dead.

A search was called –
Looking high, looking low –
But years did pass without avail
While Aengus’s love did grow.
Finally love and luck, it seems,
Met to quench his lonely thirst.
But travel to Loch Bel Dracon
Was the journey to make first.
Upon the quiet, rocky shores,
Aengus did find silver maidens fair
Surrounding his love, Caer Ibormeith,
Whose visage at his heart did tear.

Trying to secure her for our hero,
His people did plead in vain.
So upon the lands came a shower of blood
To help quell his eternal pain.
Her father begged for sweet mercy,
His anguish echoing in his word.
He could not promise the fair maiden
For on even years, she doth become a bird.
So upon the next year, taking great haste,
Aengus traveled to win the girl’s heart.
The pair of swans sealed their love with a swim
And vowed never again to part.

Religion (a free write)

Myth based in fact? Or fact based in myth? The concept of religion is one of the oldest debates in history. Every culture in the world has worshipped a chosen god or a variety of gods and spirits, but is religion based in fact or myth?

It is a question that may never be answered because no one truly knows. No one living today has concrete proof that any one religion is based wholly in fact. While there may be bits and pieces of verifiable fact in every religious story, that is what the largely remain – a story.

Religion is mainly a moral prescription of life. In the form of fables and narrative, it gives you a how and why for living a good, just life. A comparison of today’s major religions (and quite a few minor ones) will show common themes. “Honor thyself and thy family.” “Be kind and helpful in your community.” “Do not want for more than you have.” These are some of the basic tenets of religion across the world.

And how you live your life dictates how you spend your afterlife.

What religion requires that a lot of people have lost is the ability to believe. You have to be able to ignore that tiny part of your brain that says, “Wait!! Show me the proof that this actually happened!!” Without that ability to believe – the ability to put faith in something outside of yourself – you will never be able to embrace religion. No matter what flavor is offered, you’ll find it unappetizing. You’ll be unable to find the necessary power to fully believe.

So then, it leads me to ask…

Who is the more powerful man?

He who can step outside the confines of the conventional and trust his faith in the unknown and unseen?

Or he who cannot, even for a moment, suspend cynicism and disbelief to trust in a power outside himself?

Free Write - Emotions

What is it about the emotions that can dictate the very course of our lives? What is it about a smile or a laugh that touches us so very deep inside without even a moment's thought?

Emotions are a very volatile subject in many, many ways. They cause us to sing in the rain; dance on a roof; cry in our sleep; and any number of strange reactions to the world around us. They can have us singing someone's praises one moment and cursing their very name the next.

As a human being, our lives are dictated by our emotions. If you wake up happy and ready to go in the morning, even if the day is derailed for a moment, you are still ready to face the world. Yet, if you wake up "on the wrong side of the bed," everything seems to go down hill from there.

We attach emotional significance to everything around us. Every sight, smell, taste, and touch brings back some memory of where we were and what we were doing when we first experienced that - and the emotions that surrounded us at that very moment in time. Every sound that surrounds us brings to mind a time where we were elated or crushed - and the sound will affect us the very same way.

So what is it about our emotions that make them so very powerful? What makes us so ruled by those very emotions many try to keep in check?

Talent

Talent is defined by the Princeton word net as being a “natural endowment (natural abilities or qualities)”, but is talent something you’re merely born with? Or is it something you can develop over time with practice?

Venus

a goddess full of grace –
born of the pristine sea foam –
she is the protector of love.

fair in face,
she loves to roam
and watch her worship from above.

struck by her son cupid’s arrow,
she finally settled down
to wed her heart’s only true one.

in admiration that doth grow,
her awesome name, like a jeweled crown,
belongs to the second rock from the sun.

The Sun

washing the sky in vibrant rosy hues,
he awakens –
beginning to raise his sleepy head.
climbing a ladder only he can see,
he begins his daily trek
across the clear, azure sky,
lighting the heavens as he does.
although millions of miles away,
he seems as close as any neighbor –
close enough you can feel every one of
his passionate, warm caresses.
even though we often take for granted
his very presence,
it is hard to deny all the love
the sun provides to us everyday.

Saturn

a mountainous titan of a man with
a callous, frigid nature,
he swalloed his own children at birth,
trying to outwit fate.

outsmarted by his cunning wife,
one child was allowed to live –
bringing the fulfillment of prophecy
and a horrific end to an era.

to remember this man –
father time he is called by some –
they gave his infamous name
to the sixth planet from the sun.

and to see that he never lacks
for the company he always had near,
saturn’s moons and satellites are named
after the rest of his dying family.

Sagittarius

a noble creature with a gentle soul,
he lives in a land full of strife.
pure of heart with eye of coal,
he leads a quiet life.

skilled in many fields, including theology,
everyone know his name – of course.
Teaching heroes of Grecian mythology
was this half-man, half-horse.

wounded with a poisoned dart,
this immortal creature could not fully heal.
not even teaching his beloved music and art
could this immense pain steal.

given the chance to change one’s fate,
he traveled down charon’s way.
he was chained to a cliff where an eagle ate
his rejuvenated liver every day.

he was not forced into this action –
he went merely because he could.
so zeus placed Chiron in the stars’ devotion
to always remind of others of his good.

The Pleiades

seven beauties born from
the same titan of a man –
they lived a life of
freedom and casual ease.
pledged to follow a
single cause and a sole leader,
they frolicked in the forest
all their days.
frightened by a stranger,
a handsome man never before seen
by these sisters,
they pled to their goddess for salvation.
turned to snow white pigeons,
they flew up and up
until they took their places in the stars.

Pisces

a mother and son—
such a lovely pair—
did sit upon the bank,
sunning their skin so fair.

enjoying their lazy day
relaxing in the morning sun,
neither of them knew
of the danger to come.

interrupting their day and
destroying the peace at hand,
a giant rose from the river
and set his heavy foot on the land.

the pair did spy the foe
and for their lives did fear,
so changing into a pair of fish
they jumped into the water near.

to immortalize the event and
remind those near and far,
athena took their new forms
and placed them among the stars.

Orpheus and Eurydice

two young souls,
star crossed though they may be,
entwined in the glorious sky.

a fair young man
born of noble parents and
blessed with music in his soul.

a fair young maiden
true of heart and
virtuous in spirit.

two young people
brought together with love
and blessed with much happiness.

their union was true,
blessed with virtue, passion,
and an undying, all-consuming love.

cut short by her untimely demise,
he pined away for her
day after day, year after year.

he implored the gods
to let his beloved return to him,
fulfilling his fondest desire.

granted this wish,
he led her from a lonely eternity,
his heart bursting with anticipation.

foolish enough to mistrust his gods,
he looked back before they were home,
losing his love once again.

overcome with grief,
his instrument and voice fell silent
ultimately causing his own demise.

now together in paradise,
these lovers want for nothing and
they vow to never part.

and in the stars hangs a lyre,
his instrument of choice,
as an ever-present reminder of their tale.

Ode to Polaris

star light, star bright –
seems like i’ve muttered that phrase
a million times or more.
the hope always fresh in my heart,
i have yelled and screamed at you
when no one else would listen.
i have told you every one of
life’s little secrets,
knowing you could tell no other.
i have admired your endless beauty and
basked in your glorious radiance.
just a ball of burning gas –
i've been told time and again –
but star light, star bright,
you have been my very best friend every night.

Night Hunter

he stands there at night, strong and proud –
a secret lover who comes to me in the dark,
entering my room through my window and
lavishing me in his attentive, loving
light.

his shoulders are powerful and wide,
his gaze intense in this clear and
endless vista, looking back into my soul.
the stars in his wide belt twinkle
like a child’s eyes on christmas morning.

he hunts his prey alone –
a solitary predator stalking an elusive being,
forever doomed to wander the earth
in a ceaseless, vain
search.

he is orion,
protector of the night sky –
a lone man once proud and vital
now doomed to spend his days
eternally wandering the dark heavens.

Milky Way

a tiny babe, innocent and free,
was doomed to a horrible fate.
to falsify an oracle’s vision,
the babe’s siblings his father ate.
His mother frantic – out of her mind –
determined to save her own,
she gave the father a swaddling bundle
wrapped around a large stone.

left upon a mountain side,
the innocent one did rest.
when the dinner bell did call for him,
he nursed from a mother goat’s chest.
the infant grew strong and proud,
his heritage showed true.
then came the time to fulfill destiny
and turn the skies grey from blue.

he fought a battle, long and hard,
with those from whom he came.
he overthrew their cruelties
and slew them one and the same.
Recovering his siblings,
they ascended to a peak on high.
the path they followed in the stars
was a splash of goat’s milk across the sky.

Mercury

just a babe and
already so fair of face,
this nimble young god
could win any race.

with snakes twining up,
he takes winged staff in hand
and delivers to all
godly messages across the land.

inventor of instruments divine
and with a sense of humor sure to amuse,
he strives to teach mankind
practical arts it could us.

with beauty and never-ending grace,
there could be only one.
so for all his good, kind deeds,
he shares his name with the planet closest the sun.

Mars

as the god of war, he doth strive
to keep the spirit of battle alive.

in the hearts of men across the land,
he renews the lust to keep sword in hand.

with a fiery temper in so important a one,
he lends his name to the red planet – fourth from the sun.

always keeping his true kith and kin very near,
his moons are named for sons – “Panic” and “Fear.”

he continues to amaze, awe, and surprise –
and someday we’ll view his surface with our own eyes.

Man in the Moon

you look out the window,
and it’s there…
greeting you like a long, lost friend.
mysterious yet comforting when it’s full,
you anxiously await the night
where you can search for it once again,
just like you did when you were
a wee little babe –
the face of
the man in the moon.

Lyra

a beautiful instrument born
of pure mischief and glee,
the lyre’s lovely sounds haunt
a listener’s heart with a woeful melody.

in the hands of apollo
the lyre’s notes did loudly ring,
but in son orpheus’s hands
the instrument seemed to sing.

his only comfort after eurydice’s demise,
the lyre ultimately caused his downfall.
while strumming a tune full of sorrow and woe,
it drowned out the maenads’ siren call.

ripping the man limb from limb,
they eagerly sever his head.
throwing the body into the hebrus,
they celebrated once he was dead.

to mourn his passing,
the muses great effort gave
to gather all his body’s limbs
and commit them to a grave.

and in remembrance of
this tale of love, pure and true,
zeus placed the lyre for all to see
in the midnight’s inky blue.

Libra

lady justice walked the land,
the scales of justice in her hand.
these scales of metal and heavy wood
weighed the balance betwixt evil and good.

she used these scales everyday
to keep people moving on their way—
making sure to keep them on their path
so as not to disturb fate’s aftermath.

to remind those of us believers
of exactly where we are,
the scales were placed in the sky
amongst the night stars.

Leo

the king of beasts,
full of pride,
the lion of nemea
possessed an impenetrable hide.

the source of legend,
all male villagers tried—
but none could kill the lion
and remove the hide.

as punishment to one,
their king had lied—
claiming that the lion had killed—
and called for that hide.

he sent his cousin,
and our hero vied
to slay the lion and
retrieve his hide.

the hero struggled
and he tried
until, finally successful,
he removed that hide.

and now the lion
goes on a nightly ride
through the brilliant stars
in remembrance of him and his hide.

Jupiter

the king of gods – you know him well.
he rules above whilst his brothers rule the sea and hell.
he governs the land with an iron-clad fist –
his worshippers number far too many to list.
with a matronly wife whom doth possess a jealous eye,
he lazily watches for lovers from his throne on high.
for his appetites – some of the largest yet –
they gave his name to the largest planet.
And with moons surrounding its surface so fair,
jupiter never lacks for company there.
named for lovers and friends – even a first wife –
this fifth planet’s moons are the light of its life.

Inuit Moon

with a heart dark
as the blackest night,
he eagerly continues his chase.

through the endless sky
annigan pursues his desire,
hoping to one day win the race.

in love with his sister,
he covets her radiance and
follows her again and again.

until finally needing food
to recharge himself
and anxiously awaiting a new search to begin.

he pursues her bright light
every day of eternity,
never getting ahead.

yet he keeps up
his evil mind game,
hoping to her one day to be wed.

Hydra

a hideous beast with heads numbering nine,
she was put on this earth to plague mankind.

with a visage so gruesome all it took was one stare
to give even the bravest of men a terrible scare.

serving hera loyally throughout her long life,
the creature did cause the grecians much strife.

to battle the monster twas a suicidal task—
the kind of only one hero they could ask.

so the plight of the people hercules set out to end
though many thought twas a fight he would not win.

locked in struggle, the two did fight—
the beast verses our hero’s might.

it seemed his chances held on by a tiny string
when from one severed head two would spring.

just when it seemed he would win not,
hercules found the solution he sot.

with fire in hand and his sword at every turn,
the stumps of the heads he would now burn.

finally left with the beast’s main head,
the hero did bury it, leaving her dead.

and for her service—faithful and true—
she was placed in the night’s inky blue.

across the heavens hydra now does wind
always searching for her next victim on which to dine.

Gemini

two brothers born into the world
as close as they could be –
one the son of a god; the other of a king –
no one could deny their gallantry.

voyaging far from their childhood home,
the two did never part.
though of two bodies,
they shared one soul and heart.

when finally separated by
one brother’s untimely demise,
both were given immortality
and placed in the night skies.

two twinkling stars –
one orange and one white –
the brothers pollux and castor
remain together night after night.

Eridanus

twisting and turning through the land,
the river now runs dry.
fated as a cruel resting place,
twas where a god’s son must die.
the boy drove his father’s golden chariot,
lighting up the day.
but the horses knew the master not
and broke loose from their reins halfway.
plummeting towards the harsh landscape,
the boy prayed for his life.
but there was nothing Apollo could do,
and it caused the god much strife.
crashing through the murky depths,
the boy’s short life did end.
now the river runs dry on land,
its sandy bottom blowing in the wind.
but it also winds brilliantly
across the midnight sky—
a symbol of where this foolish boy
was fated to die.

Draco

he winds his way across the sky,
a horrible creature to spy.
the myths and legends surrounding his life
are as numerous as the humans he caused strife.

some say he’s a dragon who fought
a goddess for the power he sought.
she threw him into the stars so bold
before he could unwind his coils of gold.

others say he met with a hero
who went to legend from absolute zero.
guarding hera’s apples still on the trees,
his life was taken by the fair hercules.

yet others about the world do say
this dragon had the god of war to provide his pay.
he guarded a spring of fresh water
and killed a group of men he not ought to.

whichever legend your mind chooses to kiss,
this dragon’s existence is hard to miss.
his body winds its way across the night sky,
its terrible visage apparent to the naked eye.

Cygnus

a friendship so deep, abiding, and true,
this lad’s grief an end never knew.
as his friend’s lifeless body plunged into the sea,
he raced to his side hoping the truth not to be.
he held the lad’s body to his breast
and felt a strange tingling in his chest.
as he cried out in anger at the gods above,
his body was transformed in his grief and love.
he was now white as snow
with feathers where his hair once did grow,
and his neck was long and thin.
his voice distorted to a squawk as his cry did begin.
choosing to shy away from man
in his mistrust of all deities like pan,
the swan spent his days
in a grief-filled haze
until his death brought peace to his plight
and his shape being placed within the stars in the night.

Corona Borealis

a maiden fair from far away,
her life was so filled with woe.
she laid a trap to kill her brother
and win her charming beau.

success attained, she took a vow
to love him throughout forever.
he took her from her childhood home
and commanded she return never.

upon an isle in the sea
the newlyweds did land.
for another woman’s pretty face
he left her alone in the sand.

rescued by a kindly god,
who had been struck by cupid’s arrow,
our maiden did find love again
near the land of the pharaoh.

upon her death, her husband’s grief
no remedy could drown.
to honor her and their love throughout all time,
he did place among the stars her crown.

now we look up in the sky
in never-ending admiration
at ariadne’s corona borealis
as it lights a dark heavenly nation.

Cetus

a noble creature with a gentle heart,
he spends his days a drift
on the currents of the deep blue sea,
for one so large moving rather swift.
rumoured to be the representation
of a hideous creature from the sea,
this quiet giant surfs the night skies
happy as can be.
he lights our night with a beacon
as large as this celestial whale,
and with the end of night’s fair light
comes the end of my tale.

Cepheus

a regal man who knew
his own heart was true
proved himself to be brave.

by sailing the sea,
it was easy to see
this prince was no knave.

when it came time to wed,
he listened to his heart – not his head –
and married a foolish lass.

the new queen had tendency to boast,
and the gods were most
angered with what had come to pass.

the man begged for his wife –
pleaded to save her life –
and promised to fulfill any demand.

to atone for the queen’s crime,
for his only daughter it was sacrifice time
and only spilling her blood would save the land.

the princess released by a strange lad –
who immense courage he had –
the king was relieved as could be.

but on the day of the vow,
to his wife’s protests he did bow
and forbade the joining to be.

the hero was cross –
our fair king felt the loss
as he and his wife were made stone.

now forever for all to see,
our king resides in the night’s black sea
for the bravery and chivalry he was renown.

with a brilliant crown
and a robe soft as down,
he plants his foot on true north.

his queen by his side,
the night sky he doth ride
as in search of adventure he sets forth.

Cassiopeia

a beautiful queen full of pride
who never learned her vanity to hide,
she boasted to visitors across the sand
that she was the most beautiful in the land.
forced to atone for her erroneous slight,
the gods demanded a sacrifice to set it right.
but no ordinary life would they take –
only the queen’s child’s blood would their thirst slake.
upon her death – a ghastly sight –
the gods immortalized her in the night.
wearing the bright north star as a crown,
this foolish queen spends half her time upside down
as a reminder to those both far and near
that the wrath of the gods is something to fear.

Capricorn

feasting upon the river’s bank,
bacchus spied the threat.
leaping into waters so black and rank,
the god knew not what to do yet.
seeing the giant appear on the shore,
our hero felt his form change.
preparing for battle with a roar,
he definitely felt a little strange.
ready to defend his divine king –
now half fish and half goat –
this man’s true talent started to sing
as on his pipes he blew a shrill note.
as the giant ran from the piercing sound –
jupiter smiting him so from elysian fields he did bar –
with a gratitude so newly found,
our hero’s new form was placed high as a star.

Cancer

a tiny creature with a faithful heart,
he was always eager to do his part.
summoned by his mistress for an evil deed,
the crab sought out a hero destined to lead.
as Hercules strove for the hydra to slay,
the little creature prepared to darken his day.
with pincers and claws as hard as steel,
this diminutive animal nipped the man’s heel.
tragically crushed ‘neath our hero’s large feet,
this faithful servant went, his fate to meet.
as a reward for service so filled with might,
this crab lives forever to light our night.

Boötes

normally a gentle man –
a humble herdman by trade –
he ascends to a higher calling,
one providing aid.

while tending his flocks
and striving to reach his goal,
he leads his herd of beautiful stars
about the great north pole.

but if the call should come
and the need does arise,
brave boötes is there to
protect the great bears of the skies.

Aries

a noble creature pure of heart
and brave beyond all measure –
this magnificent golden ram
spirited away two innocent babes
and saved them from persecution
at the hands of their own father.

enduring treacherous climes
and avoiding hostile nations,
this dauntless trio braved on.
even when tragedy fell and
claimed the precious little girl,
the ram continued on to save the boy.

rushing courageously across
harsh, alien landscapes,
this valiant beast
took the terrified prince to
a friendly country –
a place where he’d always be safe.

as an offering of loyalty,
the young man sacrificed
the regal animal and
gifted the pelt to the king –
a token of peace to ensure
a long life with these strangers.

coveted by all,
only one was foolish enough
to steal the golden fleece –
an evil tyrant who
desired the power and wealth
associated with the hide.

rescued by a heroic band of men,
the fleece was restored to its rightful owner.
and the ram – the magnificent, selfless beast –
finally was rewarded by
being placed among the stars as
a symbol of unending courage.

Aquarius

ganymede –
handsome son of
a noble king and
humblest of herdsmen.

ganymede –
spotted from high
and amorously coveted by
the king of the gods.

ganymede –
spirited away from
the bosom of kith and kin
by an ethereal, regal bird.

ganymede –
resident of Olympus and
beloved by all he served as
cupbearer of the gods.

ganymede –
immortalized in heaven
upon his demise as a symbol of
the olympians’ undying love for this lad.

Andromeda

daughter of a courageous king
and a beautiful yet boastful queen,
she nervously awaits –
a beautiful virgin sacrifice.
chained to an ancient, weathered cliff,
she fearfully trembles –
vulnerable and terrified –
fated to quench a sea creature’s desires.

spied from the clouds
by a heroic young warrior,
she is rescued from the
hungry, looming jaws of the beast,
and it is slain by
our young hero,
never to terrify an innocent
ever again.

upon the day of her wedding
as she is prepared to make her vow,
her family recants on
a solemn promise,
thus dooming themselves to
a never-ending hell of
silent, unmoving seclusion
imprisoned in stony bedrock.

happily wed for the remainder of
their short, mortal lives,
the couple is now immortalized
in the twinkling of
night’s wondrous vista –
the maiden’s hands outstretched and chained
to remind foolish others of
the gods’ terrible wrath.

Wagadu (based upon the West African Dausi tales)

a rich city lost to man –
not once but four times over –
this ancient land held promises of
riches of gold and clover.

the vanity of a foolish king
and that of his eldest son
caused the city to disappear –
this was punishment number one.

after returning again to
dazzle man’s bewildered eyes,
the city was the lost again
to greed and selfish lies.

the final time fair wagadu
was lost to us forever,
the purity of man’s love for woman
and dissention proved none too clever.

so today we weep for our loss,
our hearts growing cold.
man’s ignorant scheming dreams
have destroyed the city raining gold.

Physician of Myddfai (based upon a Celtic myth)

a humble man who lived with peace in his heart,
rhiwallon helped all the people he could.
he gave to other shelter and food;
he shared with them advice and fire wood.

in appreciation of gracious ways,
the lady of the lake wished to bestow a gift.
she gave to him herbs, healing recipes, and
skills that could give the blackest soul a lift.

down through the years’ with time’s great passage,
rhiwallon helped thousands of unfortunate ones.
and when came his time to depart to the otherworld,
his healing gift did he pass to his sons.

Norweigan Sun & Moon Myth

day and night, night and day –
it hasn’t always been this way.

night, the giant, was dark and lusty.
her hair bestarred, her complexion dusky.

when night met the giant dawn,
they quickly married and had a son.

like his father, he was fair and gay,
so they named this child day.

to divide the time into dark and light,
the gods employed day and his mother, night.

on glorious steeds with jewel-like eyes,
the duo race across the skies.

to wash the world and make everything new,
every night night’s horse produces the dew.

to guide the horses through this astral world,
are moon and sun, a boy and a girl.

Mongol Sun Myth

the sky was bright and
no clouds did appear
for the seven suns
never let them come near.

in need of respite
for this dry, hot land,
we turned to Erhi Meregen –
the absolute best bowman.

he shot down the first six,
took them out one by one –
then he eagerly took aim at number 7
to see that his task was done.

he aimed and vowed and
pulled back the string,
but the arrow was impeded
by the strangest thing.

at the exact moment
his arrow was to take flight,
a swallow flew by and
gave Erhi a fright.

now strayed from its course,
that seventh arrow did fail.
instead of the sun,
it shot the swallow’s tail.

angered, enraged, and
ready to go,
he vowed to hunt it
and left to find poor swallow.

but the swallow ws clever
and hid from him, of course.
in anger, Erhi reacted and
chopped off the front legs of his horse.

the crippled horse lay down,
and there he sat
until nature took pity and
made it a kangaroo rat.

and erhi, still outraged,
did forget his pledge not.
he cut off his thumbs, hid in a hole,
and became the marmot.

and to this day,
he never forgets what he’s done.
he comes out in morning and night,
still dreaming of shooting the sun.

Iyadola (based upon a West African myth)

once inside the father sky
and wrenched to the harsh ground,
she sits and drowns in loneliness.
desperate for companions,
she convinced her husband
they should make some children.
while fashioning their tiny bodies
from the rich clay of the congo,
she felt as if her soul was healing.
unable to cook the clay properly,
her children ranged in colours from
lily white to the blackest onyx.
sneaking into the forest one night,
after father sky had fallen asleep,
she breathed life into her beloved.
as the children laughed, played, and grew,
our dear earth mother felt whole
and never was lonely again.

Creation of the World (based upon Nordic myth)

the mighty gods –
fearsome brothers three –
were at fierce odds
with a giant quite frosty.

they declared a war
and did successfully kill
that might creature of lore
and melded his body to their will.

massive volumes of blood did pour
to form the rivers, lakes, and sea.
dragged out of his awesome door,
the giant’s body was gruesome to see.

pushing and pulling the now cold skin,
molding it like modeling clay,
the brothers pulled and pushed it in
to form lands, hills, and dry bay.

hacked from his mighty bones –
surely a task of which to brag –
their axes and swords made harmonious tones
as they formed many a mountain crag.

from the chips of bones, teeth, and toes,
they formed rocks and pebbles for the sea.
from the hair which on his head rose
the brothers fashioned a tree.

now that their foe was dead,
the brothers, never questioning why,
took the giant’s skull from his head
and used it to dome earth and form a sky.

to hold their dome
in its heavenly rest,
they positioned four gnomes
to hold it up – north, south, east and west.

to light the dark
and to cool off a friend,
they fashioned stars from a spark
and made a giant provide wind.

though there were no moon
or bright warm sun,
the brothers did not fret or swoon
for their jobs had just begun.

and what of these gods –
these brothers three?
they rest in vahalla, looking for odds.
they are odin, vili, and ve.

Creation Myth (based upon the Nordic myth)

the gods had made
a perfect earth
yet still and not
given mankind birth.

while walking along
on the warm sea seand,
odin saw two logs
and dreamt up an idea for man.

into an ancient elm
odin did breathe life.
it twisted and spilt,
revealing a wife.

and into an ash
from a primeval land,
he breathed life again and
created a husband.

his brothers then
knew what to do.
they fashioned gifts
for the bewildered two.

gently draping
clothes on the pair,
the gods watched
as began a new era.

A Brothers' Quarrel (based upon a West African Fon myth)

two mighty brothers, both awesome gods,
had a disagreement leaving them at odds.
one left the sky on a beautiful starry night
as both continued thinking he was right.

the departed brother knew many a wondrous thing,
and earthly people made him their king.
the brother in the sky, still feeling great pain,
decided a lesson would be taught and withheld the rain.

three years of drought passed with no end in sight,
leaving the good king in a perilous plight.
on wings of might, he sent an urgent plea,
and finally he and his brother did agree.

since that day, the enmity came to an end
and the brothers now call each other “friend”.

Birth of a People (based upon a West African myth)

a proud, ancient race
defeated in violent war
forced to send forth gifts.

seven virgins left
across the desert’s hot sands
to meet their husbands.

tricked by a jinni
into camping for the night,
they slept like small babes.

visited at night
by a powerful magic,
the maids did dream strange.

at lush oasis,
they lounged, relaxed, and lingered
pregnant with male babes.

as the seven boys
grew into seven brave men,
they fought and flourished.

and forth from these men
sprang clans of nomadic ones
known as tuareg.

Amateras (based upon a Japanese myth)

the greatest of goddesses of man,
she shined her light over all the land.

honest, playful, and terribly good,
she always tried to do the best she could.

then one day her brother, just for spite,
hurled a horse hide into her temple with might.

the hide – it did hit and kill
one of the maidens serving amateras’s will.

in grief at her brother’s prank she did bark,
and hid in a cave, making it dark.

to once again see her shining self,
the other gods planned to help.

they threw a party and just when
amateras came out, her light shone again.

and cast from the sky was her sibling
to ensure no repeats of this distressing thing.

A World Within Our Own

whatever you called it--
hyper-sensitivity,
hyper-reality,
or even a bad drug flashback--
it had finally gotten to him.

smoke-like wisps
emanating from someone's head,
lightning-like streaks
radiating from a moving hand--
it was all a bit too much.

he shook his head slowly
as he stood in silent appreciation
of a tear sliding down the face of a crying child--
a tear drop that more resembled
a gorgeous, liquid pearl than a tear.

Perception

creeping through somber woods
along the river at dusk,
i tried to swallow my fears.

within the close confines of rotted stumps
and drooping canopy of dying pine,
she often found me increasing
the energy of my grip –
grasping the frail skin of her hand or
holding her shirt sleeve –
lest something should appear,
appetite ready to devour me.

wild beasts peered from underneath
the carpet of molding pine needles,
wide bright eyes following my movement.
ears seemed to twitch with each misstep
as if hearing and identifying my fear.
legs fluttered and wiggled,
ready to jump out at me without
even a moment to scream.

“easy, child,” she smiled and said.
“those images aren’t real.
it’s just in your imagination.”

she toted me towards the beasts,
my hand now clutching hers
to hold on for dear life.
then i saw them – as if for the first time.
old logs and stumps had imposed
upon the confines of my fertile mind,
taking the shape of beasts.
their bright eyes – simple knots,
washed white by many hard rains.
their ears – fallen leaves from the dogwood,
stuck to the logs with mildew and slime.
and those legs, those fearsome creepy legs –
broken limbs bent at odd angles to tease.

a nervous laugh escaped my lips,
and i smiled at her old wrinkled face,
ready to continue on our way.

Nightmare

awaken with a jolt as the world comes crashing down
i run from the comfort and safety of my sheltered soul
running fast… faster… faster yet…
running from the threat to my quiet complacency
the corner turns and i stop up short,
confronted face to face by my demons.

whirling, thrashing, fighting just to break free –
biting, scratching, hoping to find a soft spot –
praying, pleading, down on my knees
for the madness to fully retreat
wishing for a coherent thought that will
help me escape from this oddity.

a gentle shake, a soft caress, a feather of a whisper –
these seem out of place in this cruel house of horror;
i tremble, fearing the next touch to be pain.
yet, the next touch is soft, compassionate –
a voice pulling me from the depths –
out of the blinding nightmare that’s captured me.

The Monkey

a cold gust of wind rose,
blowing a long, low moan
through the old, rusty gutter.
he shivered and turned to go.
that’s when he saw it—
the large cartoon eyes;
the tarnished, broken symbols;
that toothy, maniacal grin.
that grin!
he had seen that grin,
once comforting and comical,
in his nightmares.
now, face to face with this childhood toy,
that grin was no longer welcoming.
it said, “Welcome home, Johnny.”
at the same time, that grin—
that innocent-looking grin—
had also said,
“prepare to die.”

A Momentary Peace

he walked--
walked for miles in
that devilish heat and humidity.
he walked until
his legs were nothing more than
rubber bands
and his heart raced as if
it would explode.

he relished these walks--
relished them mostly because
of the way his head would swim
and his ear would ring,
sometimes ringing so loudly
it drowned out the
agonizing,
tortuously slow
ticking of the
death watch.

Life and Death

the imposing site rose
out of the middle of nowhere.
it appeared to be a building,
a building made of dark,
sot coloured stone
and surrounded by a field of
bight red roses—
roses so bright and
alive they seemed almost
otherworldly.

she had entered the building,
not exactly sure where she was
or what she was doing there.
the cold stone seemed to breathe
and pulse as if it were alive.
she glanced about at the
strange beings walking around
as if this was any other ordinary day.
her body tingled and began
to shimmer with an unknown force.

she felt herself rising
as if her body had
dissolved to mist—
rising higher and higher.
she shuddered as on of the
odd passersby walked through her.
still, she rose,
floating higher until
she reached the roof
of this wondrous building.


the night was clear…
moonless…
gorgeous.
stars glittered across the
arc of the sky in an
extravagant, misty sprawl of light.
the warm wind was blowing,
blowing ferociously hard,
but she could not feel it.

gazing out at this
beautiful starscape,
she became aware of
the pinkening dawn sky.
time seemed to pass
faster at this level.
marveling in the coming day,
that was when she spied it.
the looming, inky death bag
hovering over the edge of the city.

Human Energy

human energy—
boundless. limitless.
to drain all the energy
in one person’s aura…
from the very depths of their soul…
would be like a child
trying to drain the pacific ocean
with a small, plastic bucket.

Horrid Visions

he slipped his hand
through the oil slick of an aura.
the jolt as he broke through
sent him into a total panic.
his normally electric blue aura
turned an angry mixture of
blood red and deathly black.
the look on his face was
one of terror and loathing.
he screamed and
pulled his hand back
as if burned by a
white-hot flame
and attempted to contemplate
the horrid images he had seen.

An Enveloping Death

it looked like bugs—
nightmarish, black, writhing bugs—
crawling out of her eyes, mouth, and nose.
but it wasn’t bugs at all—
it was a black, fog-like balloon
enveloping the small creature.

he peered out at the one responsible for
this horrid image,
a balding man wearing a dirty smock,
and swore to get even
as the balloon-like shadow
enveloped its prey.

Degeneration

the glow of the light was there,
although dim and distant.

he slowly turned towards
the mirror to see the damage.

“losing cohesion,” he mumbled,
shrinking away from the sight that stared at him.

his skin was degenerating,
rotting at an excruciating pace.

his soft tissue was breaking down,
giving his face a droopy, puddled look.

his teeth seemed loose,
as if they could fall out at any moment.

and the sores—red patches
laced with dead, white skin.

the sores now covered
his face, neck, and arms.

it seemed as if he was de-evolving,
his skin falling off his bones.

Carnival

dimly light and shrouded in shadows,
you could only see the outlines —
vague and blurred —
of the thrill rides.
but you could hear them —
the horrifying screams of
patrons who feared for their lives.

along the midway, carnies called out,
trying to get some sucker’s attention
to come play a game of chance
(“two games for a dollar,” they cried),
as a dilapidated old calliope
blared “the funeral march” for all to hear.

with false smiles plastered on
their grotesque lips and terror
shining in their small, misshapen eyes,
the denizens of freak alley
could do nothing but
stare out at you in pity.

and those souls —
those poor souls lost in the house of mirrors —
were gone…
lost for all of eternity
at this monstrosity,
this carnival of lost souls.

Buried Alive

tracks?
whose tracks?
there was the deep impression
of a very large shoe in the
pile of dirt closest to the hole.

not only was there some
footprints
but also a circular dimple
almost the size of a
dinner plate.

and grooves!
grooves shaped exactly
like fingernail claw marks,
inside the walls and
immediately around the grave site.

the roots in the hole were torn…
twisted…
frayed…
as if someone had dug
himself out of his grave.

Back Where You Belong

the squalling of birds
drowned out all other noise.
the ground was black
for miles…
covered with the live bodies
of thousands of sparrows.
psychopomps—
that’s what his professor
had called them—
harbingers of the dead.

the wind start to moan,
and those sparrows—
all 79,505 of them—
took to the air at once,
the beating of their wings
a steady drone and
the outlines of their bodies
darkening the sky,
blocking the noon sun,
turning day to night.

they crashed through the
east wall of the house,
flying straight for the
husk of the man,
lying on the floor.
they picked up the body,
still alive and now screaming,
by the loose puddles of
skin hanging from his limbs and
carried him back to hell.

Chemical Party

chemical party – reeks of stale smoke and
cheap booze mixed with musty sex
trails of ruby red and diamond white
race past, floating on the air

fireworks flash and bang –
behind closed eyes they do not go away
pulse pounds, heart beats –
your hell and your dream

night is your companion – a goddess on her knees
maybe, an angel underneath
slips inside to violate, desecrate –
she comes and goes like no one can

be her angel now – be her all
take her anyway you can
sexy machine – jingaling from here to the ceiling
inside, reeling, so fresh and clean

leather and lace smiles in her special way-
playing games is part of human nature
sooner or later it comes down to fate –
struck by lightning, who here would feel it?

a stolen kiss – minty fresh dip breath –
colors of a cowboy’s cliché
you broke apart your insides –
lost in the walls of another world

chemical party – deep within the night
are we havin’ fun yet?
pour yourself into a cab because
the world shines for you today.

Why?

why?
why can’t you see
what you’re doing to me?
why do you keep
my heart on a chain?
why do you pull me to you
just as I set myself free?
why can’t you see
what you’re doing to me?
why?

Where Did You Come From?

where did you come from?
you weren’t here just a moment ago –
oh, i know we’ve passed this way
a time or two or three…
we’ve even said hello and
maybe even talked for a while…
but where did you come from?

a moment ago, this room was
dark, cold, and lonely…
i was feeling at my worst…
my head hung low with despair;
the night was closing in around me,
tightening its grasp on my throat
like a strangle meant for death.

so, i ask again, just where did you come from?
one moment, i’m on the verge of tears…
then you showed up in my life…
nothing special, just popped by for a chat –
but then, when did we stop by just
for a little chat in all the years
that have gone by?

where did you come from?
you blew into my life like a
the blast from a force-5 tornado –
ripping apart my senses and
shattering my sensibilities…
keeping me so totally enthralled
and returning to this space night after night.

so, i ask, where did you come from?
a moment ago, there was nothing but
the cool, quiet dark, and my despair…
and now, there is a feeling of peace,
warmth… and… something else –
something else left unnamed…
so where did you come from?

and how did i get so lucky?

What Might Have Been...

i turned around,
and there you were.
it was as if time had stood still.
your eyes were still sparkling like
the diamonds i had remembered,
and your laughter was still as beautiful
as the loveliest italian aria.
you touched my hand,
so lightly most wouldn’t notice,
and i shivered—
still as attracted to you now.
then i noticed the ring—
your wedding ring—
shining on your hand.
making my excuses,
i ran out of there
before you could see my tears…
but i couldn’t help but think of
what might have been.

Watching

and here i sit, staring at you, though you don’t know it’s me…
biding my time til i can find the words to let you know –
let you know just how much you mean to me…
here i sit, watching you – from afar … never coming near…
holding in the flood that threatens to well up over the dam –
the flood in which my soul resides…
and yet i sit, watching you and feeling as if you’re watching me –
but how can that possibly be?
i've never told you that it’s me.

Untitled Musing

life races on, hurriedly pushing us forward –
towards who only knows what?
racing, never slowing, until the end of days –
until we meet our final destiny.

dreams of that life to come sustain us…
keep us afloat when the misery and miasma
of that which is the rat race
would threaten to drown us in its gloom.

who of us can say we’ve lived?
which of us can throw that first stone,
surrounded by walls of a glass house,
pointing an accusatory finger?

Untitled Emotional Musing

looking around, a comfortable feeling settles –
the old faces and names swirl in and out of the fog
like beacons on an endless midnight ocean
that somehow managed to burn.

dancing in and out of my life, always there
just beyond my reach – just out of my sight…
a kindred spirit feeling lost and alone
not knowing which turn to take.

crossing the years and the tears,
we wound up in this space and time –
neither of us quite knowing what
our next move should be.

so, look deeply into in my eyes -
let’s get lost tonight in each other and
share those whispered secrets
we know so well one more time.

we’ve started a story whose end must not wait –
the curtains still dance with the wind and the sky
as music softens until it was only an underscoring
of the movements between our two hearts

your voice - silken threads softly whispered
in the small hours of the night into
a waiting ear and an ever trembling heart –
spending one more night alone.

alone?
how can that be when you were just here –
your fingertips just caressing my face as
your words play my heart like an aria.

so please tell me - when will our eyes meet?
when can finally i touch you?
when will this strong yearning end?
everything inside of me is wanting you and needing you

Turning to You

in the quiet of the evenin’,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i swore they wouldn’t this time – not after the last.
if i could just find way to still these emotions,
i know i could last until dawn …

in the deep, dark quiet of midnight,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i see your smile and the warmth in your eyes,
floating through the pages of my mind,
and my resolve is slipping away…

in the quiet of dawn’s coming,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
your voice slips down my spine like a warm current,
and i smile at just the thought of your name…
what am i going do…

in the quiet of morning’s light,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
hurt so bad before that i had closed completely down,
but you found a way in … into my mind, my heart, my soul…
when i swore i wouldn’t let you…

in the quiet of the afternoon,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i can no longer deny the way you have touched my life
and how i yearn to touch yours… touch yours in a way
i never wanted to touch another before…

in the quiet of the evenin’,
i find my thoughts turning to you…
i finally admit it – you’ve got me, whatever may come…
my soul is free to soar again above the highest heights,
and it’s all because of you that my heart has taken wings…

yes, when all is said and done,
i find my thoughts turning to you…

There You Are

the nights are long, dark and bleak –
loneliness threatening to swallow me,
drowning me in sorrows.

but there you are.

surrounded in shades of blue and
cloaked in the hollow sound of
my own voice.

but there you are.

all at once feeling alone in the mire
yet not as alone as I thought –
a like mind sharing the darkness.

and there you are.

thoughts of soft spring nights,
gently lulled by the creaking of
an old porch swing.

and there you are.

arms stretched out towards you,
yet never quite reaching
across time and distance.

but there you are.

voices travel the phone lines,
enclosing a heart with warmth
while emphasizing the loneliness.

and there you are.

through time, space, and distance –
keeping company through the
wee hours of dawn.

there you are.

Symphony for the Senses

earth, wind, rain, passion –
the scent awakens the senses
and inflames the blood

feather soft, just ever so light –
the touch reaches deep into
a guarded soul

reflections, star light, falling leaves –
the sights assault the mind and
free your inner passions

damp chill, fresh grass, dew –
the taste tickles as it touches
the very tip of your tongue

crackling, whistling, chirping –
the sounds play a mystical symphony
just for two

walking along the path towards
home, hand and hand,
feeling content and safe

Surprise

the look on her face said it all.
her eyes were wide—
her mouth agape.
she could feel her heart
pounding in her chest.
the blood rushed from her head,
leaving her dizzy and giddy.
she sat back hard,
not feeling anything but
the numbing of shock that
stems from such a great
surprise.

Sunset, Sunrise

the sun sets on two lonely souls
feeling the tortured pain of a
past gone wrong.
as the fiery flames of day
extinguish into the darkness of night,
they weep, mourning love lost.

the sun rises on two people,
filled with renewed hope.
their souls join, bringing peace to the
chaotic pain of the past.
as the moon's silvery rays give way
to the sun's fiery flames,
they smile, dreaming of a future together.

Sunset, Sunrise

the sun sets on two lonely souls
feeling the tortured pain of a
past gone wrong.
as the fiery flames of day
extinguish into the darkness of night,
they weep, mourning love lost.

the sun rises on two people,
filled with renewed hope.
their souls join, bringing peace to the
chaotic pain of the past.
as the moon's silvery rays give way
to the sun's fiery flames,
they smile, dreaming of a future together.

Staring at the Clock

staring at the clock,
hearing each little tic
resound inside my head.

sitting here, waiting
wondering where you might be
tonight.

wondering what you’re doing –
what you’re thinking…
are you alone?

staring at the clock,
feeling myself slip
inexorably into desperation.

consoling myself with
a bottle of bacardi and
a pack of marlboros.

staring at the phone,
wishing for life,
willing it to ring.

staring at the clock
marking each minute
with a slash upon my arm.

wondering
waiting
wishing

wondering why you had to leave –
leave me here alone,
to worship your memory.

staring at the clock,
coming closer to oblivion
with each passing second.

Soul-Wrenching Yearning

looking around, a comfortable feeling settles –
the old faces and names swirl in and out of the fog
like beacons on an endless midnight ocean
that somehow managed to burn.

dancing in and out of my life, always there
just beyond my reach – just out of my sight…
a kindred spirit feeling lost and alone
not knowing which turn to take.

crossing the years and the tears,
we wound up in this space and time –
neither of us quite knowing what
our next move should be.

so, look deeply into my eyes -
let’s get lost tonight in each other and
share those whispered secrets
we know so well one more time.

we’ve started a story whose end must not wait –
the curtains still dance with the wind and the sky
as music softens until it was only an underscoring
of the movements between our two hearts

your voice - silken threads softly whispered
in the small hours of the night into
a waiting ear and an ever trembling heart –
spending one more night alone.

alone?
how can that be when you were just here –
your fingertips just caressing my face as
your words play my heart like an aria.

so please tell me - when will our eyes meet?
when can finally i touch you?
when will this strong yearning end?
everything inside of me is wanting you and needing you

Reverence

a nocturnal visit -
within that small piece of the night,
they could both pretend...
they could ride the heart of a whirlwind,
secured in place with a rope
braided from the dreams of trees

the heart has its reasons -
reasons whereof reason knows nothing
she was drowning in their need
yet alone in a fragment...
a fragment of nothingness
beneath the mysterious black vault of velvet skies

perfection of dignity and virtue
lay in a corona of clouds
gathered about her head -
perfectly silhouetted against the moon,
her beauty lay in far more
than the outward description

the radiance of her smile
was as tangible as a soft breeze,
and it melted his cold heart
shadows swirling in crystal,
his voice trembled
like the dying aspen leaf

eyes flamed with hunger...
desire...
triumph...
as her hair tore free -
whipping about her face
like medusa's snakes

in moonlight, she was marble and shadow
and he knelt before her,
drowning himself
in a thick puddle of fog -
a lifetime since he'd laughed;
an eternity since he'd cried.

he whispered her name -
a voice so close to silence
one must strain to hear it -
and his eyes drank her down
like a bracing tot
of hot gin

the moment was sacrosanct,
and shadows caressed them reverently,
like sycophantic demons...
and a pure white light
spread like winter ice
over the darkness.

Remember My Love

He looked in her eyes,
Finally seeing the light.
The warmth of her love
Had made everything all right.

He drew her close
For love’s first kiss
And whispered in her ear,
“Please remember this.

At the end of the day
When you’re feeling low,
Just remember this night
And our love will grow.

When you’re feeling defeated
Like no one’s cared for a while,
Just remember my love
To renew your smile.”

Realization

a vivid rainbow of understanding
suddenly lit in his consciousness.
in its glow, he saw something
immense…
something so large and wonderful
it seemed unquestionable…
preordained.

he turned to face her and
found her bathed in an
ethereal, pale yellow glow.
it transformed the once
plain and dowdy woman
into a creature of almost
unbearable beauty.

she is eos, goddess of the dawn,
he thought.
she is truly beautiful,
and i have fallen in love
with her in this very instant.
i’m so in love with her
it feels as if i’m drowning.

Poised Upon The Precipice

you’ve stood here before –
poised upon the precipice,
ready to take the leap…
but why now?

what makes this different than
a million times before-
different man, different age
but you’re still the same you

you’ve stood before that door,
ready to knock –
ready to announce yourself
to him and his world

and yet, you hesitated –
held back the largest part of you,
afraid to share the fears,
the hopes, the dreams

held back the largest part
because you knew he’d
swallow you whole –
swallow your soul like so many before

so what makes you think
this man is any different
than the ones who’ve come before –
or may even come afterward?

so the defenses have fallen?
haven’t they come down before,
only to be bruised and abused,
and put back in iron?

so your soul is at peace…
you’ve thought that time and again…
thought it about a dozen men
in a dozen different ways…

so, here you stand again –
poised upon the same precipice…
ready to fall into god only knows what –
but what’s the price you’ll pay?

will you lose yourself?
they’ve tried to drown you before –
tried to take the essence of you…
rip it from your soul.

will you lose your vision?
the emotions and doubt tend to
cloud your views, ya know?
cloud your purpose and resolve…

poised upon the precipice,
ready to make that leap…
yet, you hesitate for a moment –
what makes this man worth it?

Please (Passion's Pleadings)

feather soft kisses perfume the air
with a musty, tangy scent
tangled hearts and tangled limbs
search for one another…

please, she whispered, please

doubt hung on a word, so simple –
so stifling – hung as oppressively
as summer heat in your room…
doubts from the past…

please, she whispered, please

pressing, clinging –
tighter, tighter, tighter yet –
feeling one another…
intimately, completely…

please, she whispered, please

please love me

Please

slow, sultry, slinking
smoky heat rising
sparks flare, reaching
tasting touching
flying higher, higher
never to touch down

please – fuck me, she whispered

biting, ripping, sucking
cloth floats down
touching tasting
fiery consumed skin
rushing past the edge
and flying higher

please – fuck me, she whispered

moaning whimpering
suddenly crying out
digging scratching
drawing deep… drawing blood
pushing back, harder harder
and flying higher

please – fuck me, she whispered

writhing moving
passion flared
collapsing breathless
just barely clinging
flying higher higher
and floating down

please – fuck me, she whispered

Peace

in a dawn pink with
sunrise, swelling redbuds,
and clusters of apple blossoms,
a soul could find momentary
peace.

a south breeze brought the
scent of lilacs and sweet fennel
to tickle your nostrils,
filling your mind with solitary
peace.

silver poplars towered above,
their roots extending like giant claws,
robbing the rich soil of grass and
blocking the noonday sun for resting
peace.

to sit in the coolness of an
early spring night and watch
the shadows move in over the prairies,
you knew you were finally home -
home where your heart can sing.

home
where you can always find a tranquil
peace.

Passion

feverishly typing at his keyboard,
he chuckled to himself.
the feeling he got when writing
was pure, unadulterated fun.
anything that felt this good
must surely be a sin,
he had been told growing up.
he had always disagreed.
doing what you love,
he’d told his opponents,
is like being given a license to steal.
and after fifteen years in the business,
he had become a master thief.

The Offer

a generous offer is what it was –
one that would remove us from
this little plastic and metallic box
and speed us into the real world.

an offer that would place me
within arms reach and
staring into your intense gaze –
looking for the smallest of signs.

waiting to reach out and feel
the warmth of your hand
enveloping my small one –
needing to feel that in my soul.

do I take the offer? do I go for it?
the answer hangs in the balance –
do I say yes or do I say no?
the answer is up to you.

Night Closes In

night closes in and the doubts resurface
once again, i'm left to wonder why –
why i have allowed myself to back,
allowed myself to enter this place again

night brings to life those doubts,
those worries that plague a sane mind
turning you into a raving lunatic –
crashing your hopes in one lonely night…

optimism crashes and burns in
white hot flames at your very feet,
and your mind takes you down a darkened path
of what might never be…

living another day without –
without ever doing those little things
that make your heart soar above the clouds
and make your head swim with glee…

living without ever looking into
his warm, inviting eyes as you reach up
to touch the soft skin of his face with
the gentlest of caresses…

living without ever kissing
his incredible lips as you’re pressed
into the warmth of his chest and
wrapped in the safety of his arms…

living without staying up half the night,
talking to him as you already do,
without the interference of the phone or
the harsh glare of a computer screen…

living without drifting off to dream,
safe and surrounded by his scent –
drifting off to the lilting tones of
the song you have picked as your own…

living without waking up in the morning,
finding you’re still next to him –
that it wasn’t a dream this time to
drive you crazy with longing…

living without looking into his eyes,
touching his skin, surrounded by him,
feeling the heat of his gaze on your skin
as you make love throughout the night

living without knowing if we had a chance –
just that smallest chance to be something
more than the confines of the box …
the confines of the phone will allow…

living without ever exploring the connection –
that earth-shattering, heart-wrenching
soul mate connection that you feel at
just the mention of his name…

no, you realize now that night is no longer
your friend, if indeed it ever was,
for night is when fantasies come out to play
and doubts drown you while you sleep.

Midnight Musings at Ten-Thirty

sitting here, staring at the cursor
“compose me,” it whispers
with fetid breath – breath carried
on unmentioned promises

the words just won’t come –
their flow forever interrupted
by the edit button of my mind…
interrupted before I can regret

“do it,” my mind screams…
“do what you want – email him; call;
stand on the roof and scream –
just let him know.”

respect for your personal space
is all that stops me – prevents me
from giving in to the promise
that little voice whispers in my ear

arms wrapped around my pillow at night,
my soul crying and wishing it was you –
the need to hold you overwhelming…
so damn compelling.

talking to my best friend, staying up all night,
just for the chance to mention your name
or speak of my feelings for you –
reduces me to tears time after lonely time.

“compose me,” the cursor whispers again,
an acrid whisper sent on the broken dreams
of a jaded woman so many times hurt.
“compose or just close me down.”

a voice in the background sings of love –
love unrequited and left behind
in the search of something better…
something more fulfilling.

here I sit, in this dark little space,
desperately hoping – waiting anxiously
for the moment you deem me worthy
enough to shine your light of notice upon

wallowing in self-doubts and hollowness
only worsened by time and distance
between us – time and distance which
swallow any light in my soul.

maybe just for a moment –
it doesn’t have to be longer than that –
you can drop your emotional guards
and allow me to cross your mind

biding time for your decision…
does the concept of “us” fill you
with the same exhilaration
filling my heart and soul?

biding my time for you to decide –
am I worth your precious time?
I know I must be your best kept secret
as none of your friends know me.

sitting, waiting, wondering –
wanting so much to contact you
and not allowing myself –
refusing to give into temptation.

wanting you to let me
into your life.

Masquerade

there was something there –
something in his eyes dark, drowning,
and older than it should have been.
his eyes were the clearest mirrors and
the look was far too intimate –
she reeled back as if that almost gentle touch
was a massive blow to her senses

tasting the first edge of tears,
his eyes lit over her like
that part of them they trap in dreams
and deny during daylight hours.
the tension was there –
painted in neon Crayola flashes
and left hanging for all to see.

their passion twisted and flared
like candle flames in the pale light –
cool, white flames like
that full moonlight which attracts
the lone wolf on his hunt –
helping to pull them through and
reach what they hoped was an endless night.

so start the masquerade –
play the music, don the mask,
and take this illusion in disguise.
as she danced that passionate night
with her only love – this stranger pressed to her –
she scorned the truth of it all
and needed only the lies.

Love's Melody

she was standing much closer,
so close he could feel
her warm breath soft on his chin.
the room was full of people
and he should feel the agony of something
sharp pressed into his back,
but he sensed none of it—
the room was filled with her alone.
her face was intriguingly beautiful;
her clear blue eyes were
sparkling like large wet crystals;
and her voice,
almost a whisper,
was flat as a Kansas plain
and somehow musical,
like one long, endless note
played on an exotic instrument.
and soft—
so soft he longed to touch it
as a child might a butterfly’s wing.
but he only listened
because he could do nothing else.

Love (A Haiku)

warmth surrounds a heart.
shadows disappear forever.
hope springs eternal.

Love

just fantasy
conjured out of thin air
by cruel wordsmiths
with razor sharp pens,
set to carve out
inky scars into
my heart.

It's Not For You

just a whisper sent on
sweet cloying decaying breath –
“it’s not for you”

overwhelmed – drowning –
looking for a way out and
losing yourself further under water

and that whisper –
breathless in your soul –
“it’s not for you”

doubts and fears –
nagging onward –
pushing you into oblivion

and a whisper, soft as feathers,
playing in your ear –
“it’s not for you”

so many times before,
poised upon a parapet…
ready to soar on wings of gold

yet that whisper
caresses your skin –
“it’s not for you”

pushed into the freeing sky –
pushed before learning to fly –
and falling towards oblivion

the whisper floats on,
burrowing into your soul…
“it’s not for you”

crashing, tumbling,
a broken soul –
once again, you feel the pain

and the whisper,
so sweet – so deadly-
“it’s not for you”

why risk it?
you know the end results –
left standing in the rain

with that whisper,
soft as death,
“it’s not for you”

with a certainty you’ve never felt,
you know that this is it…
the last time you’ll feel the pain

because the whisper,
so clear and strong –
“it’s not for you”

and in the quiet of the dreary dark,
the nagging and doubts
scream instead of talk…

but there’s always that whisper…
quiet but there…
“it’s not for you”

screaming, crying,
punching the wall…
why risk this at all?

the whisper agrees –
purrs thoughts into your ear –
“it’s not for you”

dizzy, drowning,
not sure which way to go…
looking for those arms to hold…

and the whisper,
taker of hope –
“it’s not for you”

when, you scream –
just fucking when?
when will it be my turn?

and that whisper, smugly replies…
“never”
“it’s not for you”

finding the arms outstretched,
you rush to their safety
if only for a moment

the whisper laughs –
meanly, manically –
“it’s not for you”

then, as suddenly as it began,
those arms – they push you away –
push you back over the ledge…

and the whisper,
cool and calm and collected
“it’s not for you”

your soul breaks –
shattered again –
and you sink into nothingness…

realizing that the whisper,
always there, was correct…
“it’s not for you”