Tuesday, January 31, 2012

A Giving Tree

One fine spring day,
I found a petite little seed,
With one kiss,
I gave it life.

I dug it into the Earth,
I watered her,
I sang to her,
I tried to make her happy.

Eventually a sprout came,
A beautiful little sprout,
With fragrant little leaves,
And roots that ran deep.

A righteous urge,
A dutiful delight,
A smile on my face,
An amazing happiness in my heart.

Birds in the sky,
Breeze drifting by,
Sun shining bright,
All of us connected.

From seed to sprout to tree,
I've learned to love,
A giving tree,
Gave me so much with so little.

A new day,
A new life,
A new world,
All for me.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Barbwire Eyeliner

The prison is her mind,
Eyeliner lines the cage like a barbwire fence,
Trapping her in the confines of conformity.

She wanted to be happy,
Everyone told her to be happy,
It was all a lie,
That stung deeper and deeper as time rolled on.

The girl looked for love,
That happiness you find,
In Those Forgotten Places,
That Lasts For All Of Time.

She could not find it,
Society would not let her,
They told her to buy and consume,
Buy and consume.

She became society's tool,
Shirts and shoes,
Boys and toys,
A state of temporary inebriation.

The barbwire became too high,
The spikes too sharp,
She could not escape,
So she put on more eyeliner.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

The Eternal

I'm going to a party,
Alone and unaware,
That something frightening,
Will soon be there.

I start dancing,
Faster and faster,
Unaware that something frightening,
Will soon be there.

Eyes wide,
And mouths drop,
The crowd departs,
A solemn silence remains.

Blood and sweat drips,
Dancing like a demon,
Unaware that something frightening,
Will soon be there.

Moving so fast,
Bones jump from skin,
Unaware that something frightening,
Will soon be there.

So light and gay,
Dancing into the sky,
Unaware that something frightening,
Will soon be there.

Dancing and dancing,
From infinity to hell,
I come upon the Demon Princess,
In an eternal embrace.


Beauty effervescent,
A heart bursting with light,
Her presence is a fire,
It burns like a nova,
Exploding ideas,
Raining thoughts,
Inspiring action.

Sweet and Sour

She's sweet as pie,
Sweet as can be,
Sweet as this poem,
That's more than a little cliche.

There's nothing sour about her,
Not that I can see,
The only thing that is sour,
Is that she cannot be with me.