Archive for December, 2005

Fabricated

At night I toss and turn in my bed of needles,
questioning the scrap fabric memories of my past,
mixed up like a patchwork quilt.

You tell your flowing lies of silk,
as vivid as velvet and thickly detailed like corduroy.

I am your fabricated child,
from the twisted sewing machine of your deranged and cruel mind.

I was once as enchanting as satin,
decorated with tears and holes,
now tragically in tatters.

In the end, I am too torn to be mended,
I cannot be stitched back together again.

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Black Rose Christmas

Go where the black rose soundly sleeps,
in the garden of silence,
where books move restlessly,
longing to be read.

Gently waken the sleeping rose,
nearly lost in dream-filled slumber.

Take the waking rose,
longing for the warm rays of the sun,
and take her to the land of falling snow,
with plains of shimmering crystal.

Carry her to the giant emerald tree,
where the mysterious gifts and offerings are laid.

Before these gifts can open,
words of forgiveness must be said.

Many of the gifts are opened,
all of the offerings are feasted upon,
not one left untried.

The day is past and yet the snow remains falling.
the fragile black rose sleeps once more in the garden of silence,
where nothing is heard.
But everything is seen.

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Landscape of Dying Love

The world is crowded with many souls,
all I see is a white emptiness.
I see many bleeding hearts littering the landscape, bleeding out their sorrows,
drowning themselves in the process.
As I keep walking this path of nothing, I see rusted chains and shackles,
once accompanied by bonded hands now wilting littered in the path I must walk.

I remember searching for someone to love a long time ago.
halfway through my search, I gave up,
knowing that looking for the elusive prince charming was of no use.
For both failure and reward I wander through an aimless path,
through the garden of flower bouquets tied with now frayed ribbons,
rotting away as I walk doomed to everlasting loneliness.

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Drifting

Drifting away
slowly like
a swimming fish
caught by
ocean current
drifting… drifting…
where do I go?
swimming along
where does it
lead me to?
endless ocean
carry me
away…

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Fragment of a Symphony: Petals and Punishment

My angel has fallen from grace today.
It breaks her heart to know that she has failed me.
It breaks my heart to hear,
“No, say it is not so!”

She inevitably welcomes the embrace of cold and shackled chains,
her once unmarked wings turning to black as she slowly falls to her knees.
“Forgive me.” I hear her say as I gather up the nine blackened tails of agony and misery.

I decorate her with autographs, signs and symbols that blush of many roses,
as I magnify our symphony with the numbers of perfection and change.

The chorale that greets my ears is one of much needed redemption;
another chance that only I can give.

“The pain of it all will cleanse your mind and sharpen your thought.”
I say to her at last as I put my misery machine away to be played with another day,
between us after, there is many a thing for us to say.

As the rosy wounds on her snow pale body begin to swell, she takes my hand and nears it to her lips as the crimson petals from her paleness starts to flow like nectar turned to wine.

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