Monthly Archives: April 2015

Sleep As This


Such rest there was, and dreams as this,
Are those defined as kinds of bliss.
For those dreams so long absent,
I often doubted my minds ascent.
The sleep that only comes with the onset of dreams,
Was likely one that I’ve seldom deemed,
Anything less than necessary.
My ignorance spoke, I did not see.
I’ve missed this sleep and did not know it.
I’ve missed these dreams and those below it.
Dreams themselves,and that, that they,
Were the ones we’ve wished to save the day.
In and out, and out between,
These dreams of nothing, and those we need,
Are everything we need it seems,
To speak of all, and all we’ve seen.

One Pain Lessens Another


He was feeling rather thin ,
And somewhere that he,
Regretted fitting in.
It didn’t take too long to see,
That enduring the pain within,
Was sometimes necessary.
Unable to go back
He continues on,
Using the joy he lacks,
To sing his sorry song,
The pain keeps him on track.
It reminds him of where he belongs.
Unis peancino clesevenos annoseotheri.
One pain lessens another.
And these are the pains that we,
Must endure to protect each other,
And provide for our families,
While we bleed for our brothers.

It Lies Within

It has drunk the tears of many.
Of fears it has eaten plenty.
To devour all these awful things,
Is only of which this monster sings.
It thrives on misery and seeks happiness to destroy.
It searches for the destruction of any joy.
None endures and deals out more suffering than it can.
This is the beast we call man.
Such is its capacity for harm.
At this do not be alarmed.
Love it has in greater amount.
Among its qualities, this we must count.
For the sleeping love beneath its skin,
Is potentially more fearful than all its sin.

Pain and Safety: The Mirror Sestet poetry challenge


Pain brought to my wrist by the coming rain,
Rain bringing nothing to me but pain.
Insight worthless here, cannot think at night.
Night would dull the pain and my insight.
Can never be shown, I alone must search for land.
Land in safety: I must and I can.

A little bit about arthritic pain. The last two lines are about how sometimes one can do nothing about it but wait for it to pass.

The Fall Of The Seven Sisters


Before the poem itself, I feel like I should give a little explanation/summary so that it is read in the proper context.  This is based on a short story I’m working on in which seven angels that are sisters are hunting a horrible monster called “The Weight of the World” across the multiverse and track it down, then destroy it finally but not before losing their own lives in the process.

His head made of fleshless bone.
From his lungs came an awful tone.
With six arms and no eyes,
One might wonder why they try.
His ashen hands and ashen feet,
Uses the mountains as his seat.
Once he took a bite of hill and chewed,
From one mouth flame and from his second, ash spewed.
A violet flame between his hands,
That turns the rocks into sand.
This thing with no purpose other than death,
Sought to steal their every breath.
She just lost her eye, her sight, her name was Kell,
Who led them all into this hell.
Autumn, Lilith, Lætha, Ren,
Wish they could return to where they’ve been.
Maris had fallen and Regina no voice.
The Weight of the World gives them no choice,
These six angels must fight, they must press on,
To send this thing back to where it belongs.
Without her sight she could still see,
Kell led them on, herself and these three,
Autumn, Lilith, Lætha. Above its head they flew,
For Regina and Ren this distraction had to do.
With her mind she spoke, Regina said,
“We must cut out its heart if we want it dead.”
Autumn and Kell decided to try,
Foolishly, to see if they could make it die.
Lilith and Lætha gave their protests,
But followed knowing this was made in duress.
Lilith brandished her scythe, neatly dodging a plume
Of ash and flame, that caught Lætha in its fumes.
Below on the rocks she crashed and died,
Her sisters, for her, had no time to cry.
By the time Regina and Ren had each taken off a hand,
Three other angel blades found in its neck a place to land.
The Weight of the World had no time to struggle,
As three blades spun around its neck, its blood making a puddle,
An ocean, a sea. Its severed head had a bloody pall.
Then Kell was caught in a violet flame that was seen by all.
Now seething with a rage that made it seem previously tame,
From its hands, now scarlet, the sisters dodged these flames.
The same as Kell,
Now Autumn fell,
Caught in the merciless fire.
“Fly into his neck! His open throat! Lest we all expire!”
Regina spoke into her sisters minds.
“Down his throat, and there’s his heart where we can repay in kind!”
Then speeding towards that bloody stump, where once it had a head,
The angels flew,
These remaining few,
Now all but three were dead.
Ren saw a flame that Lilith did not, and rushed to get between,
Just two left, Regina saw a final chance it seemed.
Her remaining life force, channeled into a spell, that she used to freeze,
The monster in place. Now reaching its throat, for Lilith should be a breeze.
Unable to move, its flames extinguished, the monster could only wait.
Now she knew, from this thing, there would be no escape.
Liliths blade found its heart,
There she tore it apart.
Its death began to quicken,
Its arms and flames, they tore at where it had been painfully stricken.
She’d broken both wings, couldn’t escape, and clinging to her blade,
She thought of all the lives that they had died to save.
There in its death throes,
Lilith came to know,
She’d soon be with her sisters whom she had loved so.
And as the black that is not night, darkened both her eyes,
She welcomed it and welcomed death, and did not even cry.
She would be with her sisters soon in death
And that,
Was something worth more than breath.

The Sentinels Black Fur


The sentinels black fur,
Was taken just for her.
Sleeping in the cave,
Or was his own grave?
Guarding his own home,
A hunter took his bone.
With a loud and sudden sound,
The sentinel fell to the ground.
That same hunter took his fur,
And transformed it just for her.
Now she lies in bed at night,
Waiting for the morning light,
When she can rise once more,
And gaze upon the cold hard floor.
Why upon the floor she gazed?
For that is where the sentinel lays.

Her Feet Do Not Stay At Home


When will thee, with wanton eye,
A turbulent and troublesome try,
Give to me, and wrest a sigh,
From my own heart I’d give to thine?
To curse you with a storm it seems,
That God in all his wisdom brings,
To me such a pretty thing,
But not to hold so easily.
Behold in the end we find
If I’ve received less than divine…
But no! I shall make you mine!
I shall make you mine in time!
If you’ll have me, this I know
From all that past, all I’ll let go,
From you I won’t wander so,
Hold me and one who’ll never let go.

The title to this one is a reference to the books of  proverbs in the bible where the phrase “Her feet do not stay at home” is used to describe a prostitute. In this poem a man falls in love with one and believes she is a gift from God. He holds her in such high esteem and justifies her value in how difficult she is. He struggles with doubt and societies opinions (lines 9-10) but ultimately casts that aside holding onto his love for her, making her a promise to never leave.