Last summer was the summer from hell–emotionally, at least. And as I look ahead to my plans for the coming months, I am noticing a resurgence of last year’s feelings seeping into my writing. The following poem is definitely still rough, but I have found that all my writing is always rough and never finished, which is why I rarely publish anything.
Maybe you can help me smooth some of it out? That’s what the comment box is for anyway.
Summer allure rolled through spring grass in a sprint for the forest
I chased after through the field toward the promise of a sweet and holy fruit
You enticed me toward the lifted cradle and made for me a dainty halo
And I made my home tucked into your trees,
Wooed by your lullabies of things Greater Than These
But the Greater never came
And you hushed away the These
Until the day my mouth was open and the wind rushed out of me
“Will you climb up or should I jump down?” I sang from a teetering cradle on a dying branch
With an eyebrow raised and a plastic grin you called up through the limbs
“Young girl, stay put in this tree, there’s nothing down here to taste or to see
sing if you wish, but know that I have the fruit abundantly”
So I sang with parched mouth from a vine not my own
Pretending that some how this might feel like home
“Sir, this tree bears no life and these branches lack water.
It shows who you are, not a lord or a father”
With a jester’s response, you smiled and smiled
and bellowed and bellowed from a heart turned mild
“Then let thy mouth be dry and speak no more! For this is my tree and I am its lord”
White petals shriveled to chalk and fell from my hair,
To a ground far below where nothing could grow
And cries of protest rattled through the trees
While the wind sang of things Greater that These
Then that wind shooed at my halo turned ash
Swirling into black leaves with a hiss
In time for your axe to cut through the mist
[part two: The Running soon to come]
Hate slithered into a mother’s angelic song
Lullabies spewed the deepest chorus of her lying
“But nothing with me, daughter, nothing is wrong”
The daughter believed until the mother quit trying
Evil struck the foyer’s Mirror
And they were blinded from the Glory days
The mother’s face distorted in bitter tears
She writhed away from the Holy Gaze
The mother stepped from the Holy mirror, her reflection clouded in disregard
And her daughter was left sightless, allowing her pain to surmount
The mirror shattered to a million bloodied shards
And the daughter’s only Holy crushed to the pits of the Christmas House
The daughter had no face to see, no song to hear
The mother burned the bridge to Heaven
And gave to the daughter her own terrible fears
Left her groping under the scorn of a Felon
Halt, The dance of reflection at her scorching inhale
Her desperate reach now met by a veil
Here, a motherless girl who cannot exhale
She calls me away,
Untouched by the storm.
Into her lily bouquet.
Nothing will taunt me. nothing will taint me.
I love your still obscurity.
Her gentle waves wrap me in a shroud of calm.
She turns my body deeper, deeper into the grey.
The crystal waters kiss the surface of my flesh.
My bones creak as she rocks me away and away and away.
I have tasted of your colorless mystery.
The sway, the sway of her tranquil way,
bends my mind to forget that I live today.
She holds me, she hides me,
From the storm that’s inside me.
Your refuge so severe.
Her mist becomes my veil,
the waters, all I hear.
Placid purity turns my blood gray,
Something about your nothing charms me to stay.
The glass that covers my body tucks my mind in.
I’ll sleep through the ages,
While the storm rages.
Given over to her cunning, cool kiss,
Who cares about my sin?
I simply will not exist.
my empty fist crushed the glass
never again will we behold
water slammed against the window pane
in a now unrelenting rain
the sky had exploded from the south,
crawling towards me all too fast,
it’s billows growling my name
my hand is empty
my side is cold
i tried to wake you
a desperate elusion
blades of grass stab my feet
blood weighing my legs to stiffen
rain smothers my voice
vigilance grows harder to keep
my body longs for sleep
Your eyes look past mine
The cafeteria wall stares blankly back at you
I reach desperately into your dim face
So unwilling to accept despair
There is hope for us yet if you would only dare
The second-hand so unforgiving
My patience succumbs to desperation
Placid eyes, The calm is shifting
[How they tarry in the light, their songs have been stolen
Their chants are enticing the storm that will bury you tonight]
When time gets in the way
and silence fosters lies,
the gyrillidae shroud even
the most complaisant of eyes
Stone-faced, your intensity is a lie
I warned you!
How is your heart so reluctant?
I know they stole the life from your eyes
The droplets on the window pane
mark eras lost in silence
the first of the waters slither down the glass,
Hissing my name
Time has stolen away, the day is dying
You, my friend, will be wasted with it
as you sleep in your pitiful silence
Steady streams now run and flow into each other
They whispered my name into the skylight
Chanting through the twilight air
their lovelorn songs scream for storms of despair
Wooing their own
Destroying your throne
Seizing your voice
Clamoring their noise
They choke the silence with the song you once sang
Screeching fills the midnight air
Crickets call forth the storms that rage against the seas
Whining to your enemies in a goading affair
Wooing their own
destroying your throne
The silence you succumb to is the disease that will overthrow you
the gryllidae seize your voice and sing your song
Calling forth the storm and with their lovers rejoice
As, with the morning, you are left alone