Category Archives: Dark

More than a Glance

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(Written at the age of 12)

My sight is blurred, my emotions are stirred, I cannot believe the events that occurred.

Gun shots are all I’ve heard, for the past day. How can I find my way back to how I used to feel?

Here I am about to steal the shoes off a dead man. He should have ran when he had the chance. Not even looking back to take a glance. But now he is there lying in a permanent stance.

All I can taste and see is dirt and smoke. I’ve forgotten how to joke. Smiles are gone, and frightened off all faces in this poor war.

I’ve fallen away from all of this, in my mind I am lost.

 All I want is some serenity. But, the shots keep firing. I keep tiring of all the death.

I knew this would take a toll on me. I can still see the war as it used to be.

Candle Wax

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Know that I was never pleased in seeing you suffer.
The carriage rocked steady, the wheels bounced off one another from side to side; from my heart to yours, yours to mine. Your hands were always warm, eyes always bright, even in the cold.
Two candles were lit for every night, one for you and one for me. They took control of the time we had. As they dwindled, our time dissolved into the past. We exchanged glances, deep stares trying to read each others thoughts. As the wax dripped it measured the minutes rolling softly away from us. Our love grew in the beaming light, burning away the secretive shadows that outlined our relationship. As the candle vanished, you would go.


My heart bounced from one rib to another, creating an internal melody. The flame sang that same song and the wax did not melt. It took a stand for our love and refused to bow down to the construct of time. The sun revolved around us yet we stayed still. In that moment the world did not want us to part. But just as the moon controls the tides of the world, there were outside forces controlling us. It was inevitable. I never dreamt of the day, I dreaded it with every pleasant word I falsely wrote. I never believed it would come. It is selfish, I know, and I am ashamed but I would rather that the war go on and see turmoil in my surroundings if only I could have stayed with you a little longer. You were all I wanted.


I tried to see the stars through the falling snow but the frost bit my face and I could no longer look up, drawn to your eyes I found warmth only in them. The future was so far away, I wanted to be in that moment forever. Holding hands, wrapped together not only by fibers and threads of cloth to shelter from the cold but also by light, spindles of energy entangling our emotions, wound around our bodies. We were blind of any doubt. We could not see that someday soon someone would come between us. I would not have survived without you during that time, but I understand why you left.

 

Wicked White Roses

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Lost in a garden, fresh flower petals wipe my tears.

Ivy covered stones line my confused path.

Fertile soil, exhausted options.

I sit on a dirt speckled bench in my long white dress, weeping,

with a white flower in my hair.

You, in your black suit, appeared sophisticated in front of me like destiny.

You navigated the garden like it was your home, bringing me to mine.

Every afternoon thereafter the garden was my sanctuary.

I was never lost again, for the image of your face was found.

I imagined you would come. . .

Idle thoughts were a cruel diversion from reality.

Fantasy pulled me in, consumed by your memory.

In such a pleasant place, my heart and hopes were crushed like grapes ready to be wine,

. . .dreams stomped out by purple feet.

Such a beautiful man, a silent allure, calm powerful presence.

     The charm of the flowers teased me with their simple existence.

Years passed, I began to detest their smell, their appeal transformed to rubbish.

I could not see a flower without falling into depression.

Wicked White Roses,

. . .wish I could hold you; Marigold Melancholy, young minds folly,

. . .torturous yellow tulips; yearning for your lips.

Carnation damnation.

Morbid Orchid; god forbid my love lost his way as I did.

You never came, flowers were not the same.

As I hated them, I could not stay away, it was a sick addiction to your memory.

Wicked white roses lived everlasting in a vase on my dining room table.

I took better care of them than I did of myself.

The eternal image of your face stayed with me until the last day of my life.

I kept you with me always, though you never returned to our garden.

 

SKINNED APPLE

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Bonfire grows, guitar strums, the river in the distance flows; water-sound hums.

Mother nature giver; enhances us fatter, round woes drum.

Trances brain-batter, society clatters, climbing up irreverent ladders, fumble down our paths, forget our original calves, letting go of our primitive halves.

Craving mouths open agape, wondering ?where? we come from. . . down the lake.

Importance transforms to impotence; dependent on the industrial world, destiny curled. . . curtailed by the wind of capitalism.

No longer free; to the woods we sinned, to the forest we abandoned, to the jungle as our greatest smuggle.

No elements to snuggle our skin; lost, bare: skinned apple, mutated pear.

At one last tree we finally stare; wondering ?what? it used to be like to have long hair, cradling nature as our nurture in one.

Earth becoming a dry perth, burnt by the sun.

If you have enough power in your smog-filled lung, stand up as trees turn to log, hog turns to meat-slab, crab vanishes from the sea, plea to the corporate democracy that all this demolishing is insanity.

Open your mind ?what? world would you rather enter, we hunt behind closed factory doors with electric shock tools, in place of our innate kindness we must implement rules.

We manipulate our world to be too easy, our instincts sloppy, our reflexes queasy.

Fallen Illusion

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The stars fall down on illusion and the grass disdains their presence.

The un-flowering buds blossom deeper into melancholy.

A fever grows to love and be heard, as you cause movement in the Earth with every step you take – then stopping the anger inside you when the Earth falls still.

Truth Scour

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In my heart, I hunt for answers. I scour my mind for an oath to swear.

Startled to find a rat’s nest of worry, I warily step deeper into my thoughts, steeping in the uncertainty.

Captive of my own curious search, I wander among wonder and curve around borders.

Entangled within my own strangling concepts, I am suffocating in the depth, squeezing truth out of illusion.

If my captive thoughts could escape, where would they go?

They’d fly into complacency, worry-free. They’d rest their little feet on soft delusion. They’d whisper fantasies and lies, content in their false bliss – But I choke this joy from them… to cage them with facts, wrestle them back to reality, hold them to this world, force them to abide by all the knowledge I wish I could hide.

In one deep yawn, I stuff down the temptation of letting them escape. Instead, I hunt for the best awful truths. I endure this torturous process for the fear of living behind, in a false life.

 

Swift Snow

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Snow swiftly approaches.
Flurries hurry my way.
From the swirling sky, flakes float down collecting on the entire town,
piling up on rooftops, coating every inch with an icy shine.
Floppy ears retreat into the earth, under the slush filled street.
Covering everything in white, filling me with rotten spite.
Yearning for sunlight, the cold touches my nose and transforms me into all of my woes.
A grouch who loathes soggy socks and frost ridden toes,
I’ll stay hidden until spring.
A grinch in need of a pinch, awake me from this crystal stinging nightmare.
I’ll laugh and smile like a king among flowering blossoms.
Longing for the warm breeze, to lounge like leaves on the trees.
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Bird Calls

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In the darkness of the night a bird calls out,
Flying looking for its home,
The tree it flew from has been cut down,
The birds wings grow tired but it continues to look,
What fool chopped this tree?
It was me.
I swung with my axe and set the wood ablaze.

Only after did I realize that this tree had a soul.
The soul lives on and haunts me when the sun falls.
Echoing bird calls daunt my ears,

Feathers flash flaunting before my eyes,
Of all my faults, this is the greatest.
I could not see what was before me,
All of the love and soul in your eyes,
Passed me by, I realized late.
Now it is my fate to hold this heavy pain in my chest, full with guilt.
Bursting heart, a cloud heavy with water and nowhere to rain it down.

If it were still standing, the bird would make its home again in this tree,
Even if the tree has no leaves, even if the tree is bent and twisted,
The bird would bow at the sight of it.

Chalice of Sand

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Fixing this would be like gluing a portion of sand back into the ceramic chalice it once was.
I’ve tried to find each granule in the desert.
Through hopelessness, I strived to search for each missing spec,
but a storm blew all of the pieces in different directions.
Alone, I traveled, still looking.
Famished in despair with broken breaths of air.
Fallen at your feet, still you don’t seem to care.
I stand, move forward, choking as I sift the sand.
Cold eyes stare as I fight to bring it back together.
Under your glare, I stack the grains.
Squinting into the sunlit grit, eyes burning with pain.
Still you bend back my scrambling fingers in disdain.
Emotions beginning to wane,
heartbreak stain bleeding through to my seeding mind.
Finding doubt in each fleck of sun-drenched rock.
I lost myself in the particles flicked behind.
Searching for meaning in a meaningless void,
while you enjoyed watching as I unearthed everything you had already destroyed.

The chalice was meant to share with you.
Malice ruined the chance.
Hope did not relent as I balanced on a thin wire of love and hate.
You shook the wire to watch me fall;
caught in your arms, reassured, you set me back upon the wire only to shake it again.
If I allow this to go on, my fate will match the chalice,
broken into a fine dust blowing across the desert crust.

The Collapse of Fear

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The knowledge of
desperation trembles
within my palms.

The understanding of
suffering clings
onto my heart.

The feeling of
hopelessness is dense
in the surrounding air.

The debilitation of
sickness is cast
into my body.

The swift absorption of
bad influence is struck
into my eyes.

The empathy of
undeserved pain collapses
my senses.

The reflex of
fear crumbles under
a strong spirit.