poem

Upon an evening fair, and bright
I happened to see a startling sight.
From high above, in a bird's nest,
Something shone, fire or gold, I knew not which.

The fowl flew quickly, they wouldn't rest,
Nevermind inviting me to be a guest.
The light from above continued to twitch,
My eyes widened with awe as it from it's perch it rose.

I threw myelf into a moss covered ditch,
And watched as as the twilight grew rich.

Not exactly a poem..

I am Atlas, bearing the burden of the dark skies upon my back, but I, however, am none too noble. The heavens, they are crashing from their place high above. I have never been to a confessional, but my soul cries for repentance nonetheless. The weight of the cave in I have caused with my own two hands frightens me, and my recklessness fills me with shame as the whole world watches my Icarus-like flight. My lips are black with soot, a cut on my bottom one in the shape of a small geometric hourglass. How fitting?  If I push the rubble aside, they shall surely find me. And if they find me, among the wreckage, they will pump me for an alibi that does not exist, desperately hoping to find some way to clear me of the allegations they are too afraid to speak. If I cry out for help, who would come? Those who I've buried with myself? The paralyzing venom of my shortsightedness has my heart frozen solid. If I sit here, counting the stars through the holes in the boulder-sized bits of mountain that rest above me, I could retreat into the depths of my mind. I could refashion a world in which I was dancing, and carefree. I could deceive myself with the illusion of another life. But I've traced those lines before, and it's gotten me nowhere. I breathe in and out. The pressure on my back causes a strain and my rib makes an audible crack.
I moisten my lips, tasting dirt and feeling filth on my tongue. The stars, like eternal fireflies millions of centuries away, stare at me, knowing my vices. I breath in deeply and scream.
"I'M SORRY"
Over and over again my voice rings out, the anthem of some long awaited revolution. Catharsis. My cheeks are wet and my throat burns.  Though I cannot form coherent thoughts, a single hunger tears at my soul like a ravenous wolf. The stars I can bear, the eyes I cannot. I shall unburden my soul and as I do, perhaps it shall rise, like the mystical Aether to the heavens. As long as I have sins to set loose from my lips, I shall have breath in my lungs. My voice cracks as I whisper.
"Confession one.."

First Dance

Orange like fire,
Reminisce of the sun,
A golden leaf rides
Down on a breeze
Joined by another
Blown in from afar.

In the wind
They circle slowly,
Tumbling softly,
Pulled by gravity
Toward the earth,
And each other.

The ocean's waves
Sound a hushed beat,
Heard from a distance.
The trees sway and
Play along.
The crickets serenade
and sing a lovely song.

As they fall faster,
The fireflies begin
To flicker,
Creating an eerie
Backdrop against the
Setting Sun.

The stars watch
With curious delight
And distant wonder
As the wind's
Momentum builds,
Again,
And the dance
Begins anew.

Knee high socks and other things i hate

Like a spider
Stalking it's prey,
Let's discuss all the
Things I hate.
We'll start on
A silver edge,
Sliding toward
The center
And create an image in
This storm from winter.
Striped knee high socks
Made for slim calves
And skinny knees,
Not meaty, muscular legs,
And curves I cant miss,
Even if I tried.
High heels I can't
stand (in).
Every step taken
Is one of an awkward
New born giraffe,
Feeling like a drunken sluggard.
Poise and grace
Are not my forte;
No amount of wishing
Makes clumsiness go away.
Dresses that celebrate
All that is feminine,
Make me feel hands
And eyes greasing over
Non existant curves
From childhood.
Early youth, with ruffles,
Bows, sugar, spice
And everything nice;
Carefree, open,
Weak and defenseless.
The dimple in my
Right cheek that
Turned my face into
A marshmallow.
Called "cute", like
The puppy poster
Put on the pale wall
Behind the bedroom door.
Not breathtaking or
Beautiful like the
Image of a thousand
Distant suns whispering
Into the night sky.
My tongue
And lips that lie
With scarrier ease.
My mind's scarce begun
To process the question
Before the silk's already been
Spun and is dripping
from my mouth like posion.
Hurling a net to
Catch the waves swimming
In the air that've
Already tickled the ears
Of interrogators
(Or saints, because my
Lies are no respecters of persons).

To Find Myself

That small curiosity and
the horrid mirror
That told a frightful truth:
My eyes could not
Discern my form.
The light simply traversed
Through my flesh like
Thin glass.

A hunger,
Great and powerful
consumed me.
I wanted to see
this form bestowed
Upon me,
To breathe.

So thus began
A voyage to find
My lost soul,
To bring back life to
These undead limbs.

The first steps of
This search were with
Trepidation and trembling,
Calculated and careful.
I entered the maze
Convinced of my success.

But the walls
Seemed to shift,
And the world to spin.
A panic took hold and
Caution saw a bloody revolution,
Replaced with breathless bursts,
Running rampant and wild.

This maze made me
Sick and twisted with
Madness.
The madness was
deep within.
Was it built like a great city
Or
Unearthed like a piece of coal
In the mountainside?

More lost than at
First sail,
Fog covered the
Breadcrumb trail.
I found not my heart,
My life's blood,
Or my soul.
Only this madness,
This terrible madness
I fear may be all that
I sought.

This terrifying madness.

Seeing the Sin

I long for night
She cloaks me well,
Blinds my eyes to my
Scars, filth, and mistakes.
I dread the coming daylight,
And as his distance shortens,
Through the haze,
I see my unworth.
When skeletons are well hid,
Arrogance comes with ease,
But when "in the round" ,
It's chocked by
Humility and
Shame.

Tree of Knowledge

Like little droplets
Of blood,
Temptation dangles,

Like it was made
To fit
In this palm of mine.

Like a hand
Jutting out,
It pulls me hard.

Like a theif
In the night,
It steals my resistance.

Pandora's box is
Opened, and
Death's kiss
Meets my lips.
I know its poison,
But still,
I bite.