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the word whisperer

Friday, September 15, 2006

Make It Worth

Just thoughts about how I feel about myself sometimes and my not-so-good characteristics.


Buzzing and struggling through
Torrents of emotions
Like a fly caught in the
Web can see sunlight free
Sense fresh air around but
Trapped in darkness, choking
Like a leaf spotted, curled
Up from a disease can’t
Stop the wind from swishing
Me against the plastic
Window of the play house
Pink and yellow – little
Girls are sweet when not spoiled
Don’t grow up to be me
Solve your problems, ensure
Your principles, life is
Worth living even when
It is miserable

MAKE IT WORTH

Pink Gossamer Gowns

pink gossamer gowns
floating downstream past
fields of corn and wheat
banks of goldenrod and clover

angels

crochets and lace
pearl buttons and ribbons
carried by murky waters
nipped by curious fish

virgins

eyes cast upward to the sun
reflecting puffy white clouds
and the deep blue color of pride
as it fades into content

spirits

seen by maidens, scorned by lads
floating downstream past
memories of teardrops, smiles, and kisses
pink gossamer gowns

Sunday, July 23, 2006

YOU

Eh, another darker one for now... I don't really know where this one came from. Perhaps after a movie...

You gaze at the glass
Orange lights reflected in the window
Undetermined images - not recommended

Your eyes ignite my heart
Oval splashes of red on the white rug
Unsatisfied sobbing - not allowed

Your fingers clench the bottle
Odious air in the purple room
Unnecessary changes - not tolerated

You inhale cyan mists
Offer your breath to give me life
Undying love - not worthy

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Chaos (or That's Ok.)

Perhaps a rant of a careless lunatic named Sarcasm??? ;)

Dusty floors and cobweb corners,
That’s ok – I can still sleep
And not mind my frequent sneezing.

Sticky gum and greasy napkins,
That’s ok – I’ll still step around,
Garbage cans take too much space.

Rotting wood and leaky ceilings,
That’s ok – I’ll wear a coat,
Perfume needs a certain purpose.

Jeans with holes and paint-stained shirts,
That’s ok – laundry, ironing, pains in the neck,
Clothes get dirty anyways.

Diet cokes and fat free chips,
That’s ok – I don’t lose weight, but they’re supposed
To help achieve that without need to wash the pans.

Life is bad in any case and we can’t
Make it perfect, so let’s just
Watch TV, fuck, eat, and sleep,
Hope to die and hope to be,
Worst of worst…
Preaching peace, yet wearing
Skull, bones, chains, and black,
Be egoistic and inhuman,
Walk away from common sense –

Nature’s always an obstacle
And loving people is impossible,
I, me, my, myself, and mine,
Blow up the earth – I’ll stay to see
What it is like to live in rubble –
Rubble other than my life.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Return Anon, My Muse!

This is an experiment using Shakespeare words, i.e. "olde English." I've been reading some sonnets lately and got into the mood to try this out. Can't promise there are no mistakes though! :-)

A Poet's Calling to a Muse

Thou hast been gone a fortnight,
Whither I know not,
Thou hast not said good morrow,
Nor kissed me sweet farewell.
What meanest thou, my Fair,
By such impetuous conduct?
Hath not my shrift of love
Been warm enough to touch
Thy pure and gentle heart?
Nor hath my lips awakened
Thy fire of trust and faith?
Hath not my pen delivered
Truth’s testimony clear?
Thy visage floats before me,
As if to say good-den,
But wanes once darkness falls;
I prithee, come anon!
For I, my coz, have greatly
Struggled to produce
Words sweet and soft as dew.
There is no strength nor spark
Within my spirit left
To dip my pen in ink;
Thy absence – such a fray
To quench creation’s thirst
That hours turn to days;
Without thee, like a flower,
Too weak to lift its head,
I bend for Nature’s sake,
I call to thee, I sing,
Anon return, my Muse!
Return anon, my Fair!

The Song

Small rainbows in facets of a diamond
And bells ringing pure as drops of rain,
Inhale aromas – rose and almond,
Soar northward, echoes, like a crane;
The heart, the voice, – one breath of the soul –
Pour forth, then hover, like crimson lips
In search of a little brass keyhole:
Come in, water the dreaming tulips;
The voice – silent, the song – long faded,
But nothing can end the presence created.

Taller

Pink capris and polka
DOTS
Sparkles on her top

She muses at her reflection
WHITE
Bows and pigtails

To puppies on her socks, she
TWISTS
And turns, popping her heels

In and out, head cocked
LEFT
Then right, or up and down

Proud or cross, a
MOMENT'S
Satisfaction ending with

Pursed lips, wide stance,
HAND
On hip, one eye shut the other keen

Pirate blood is hot
RUSHING
For an instant, then calm

Eyebrows raised, hands crossed in
BACK
And toes turned in

Innocence is mischievous
BUT
Finally, elbows and triangles

A frown of determination
PRESSED
Lips and dimples, a sharp sigh

I’m going to be
TALLER
Than my bro, one day!

Monday, May 15, 2006

Decisions...

Decisions… whirling into her mind,
Haunting her existence,
Whirling up a tornado of emotions,
Shattering dams of tears
And sharp, echoing sounds
Called sobs, convulsions, despair –
You, stranger, lend her a smile,
Leave a violet within her cupped palms,
And disappear so she may have new hope.

Decisions… fading out of her mind,
Following her heart,
Inspiring a garden of smiles,
Adding fragrance to her every word
And song and breath
Called life, determination, peace –
You, stranger, shake your head,
Show a letter from your lover,
And walk away, so she may have new sorrow.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Headlights...

Yellow and red mingled
On the highway - tedious -
Words floating in my head like boats
Empty, but the safety vests
Scattered on the floor - useless, orange...
Floating away through my eyes
Dispersing amidst the charcoal clouds
That have sucked in the last rays of sun,
Getting ready for the night
To settle in.

Earphones - the press my ears like hands,
Transporting me to a world
Where I can think and exist alone;
Let the bus carry me on
To the place where I can speak and know
That someone will understand,
Someone will smile because they love me,
Bring fresh daisies when I wake,
Or wish me pleasant dreams of tulips,
Yellow and red...

Friday, March 24, 2006

Red Tulips

Red tulips blooming in the field
They sway ever so slightly
Whispering secrets of beauty
So only the swooping swallows
Hear them and sing to the wind...
Flowers of love - memories cherished -
Will always be dancing amidst
Red tulips - friends forevermore.