Weblog

Monday, 24 October 2011

  • the war is over

    Look at the steeled eyes that saw horror.
    Hear the venom in her wavering voice.
    Dirty canvas skin, hard-earned dignity
    in healed bones and courage caked
    under cracked fingernails.
    A body that moves with purpose,
    every step leaden and heavy.
    Iron feet on battered ground.
    Soft-paced breaths of quiet determination.
    The fires suck in their warm temptation
    as she passes by, charred and calloused
    barks of trees will breathe clean air tonight.
    The battles have been fought forever.
    The enemy doubts his own game,
    even when questioned
    by a team of one.

  • Gained world lost soul

    It took so long for me to learn
    how to lose my life.
    He blinks,
    and suddenly a thousand years go by.
     
    Years of thirsting by a fountain,
    monotonous wasted time.
     
    Time cracks a desert in my face,
    hides in sunken eyes
    that seem to know everything.
    A thousand sighs of restlessness
    breathed in someone else's
    dwelling space.
     
    What we know of time
    is deceiving.
    The clock has ruined my life.

Thursday, 29 September 2011

  • illegitimate

    I think I love you
    with as much promise as one can make
    without the formal sanction
    of signed paper.
    Cemented like glass
    in the sole under your shoe,
    reeled in by feelings
    that seem noble and true,
    a chorus of angels somewhere dark
    and accusing placed their bets,
    and Love, we are losing.
     
    Lost by a hairline fracture split,
    a line between failure
    and failing to commit,
    we fought for independence
    like the blind leading the blind,
    as dignified as a genius idea
    composed on stained napkins,
    or salt in a seductive eye.
     
    Meanwhile a stampede of flustered angels
    wave their protest signs.
    Deception and delusion
    were the fruits of our design.

Friday, 09 September 2011

  • how she aged ten years overnight

    You grew up by means of tragic circumstances,
    and not natural progression.
    You, the child, were unfairly transfixed
    in the eye of someone who was
    supposed to know better:
    you were made the innocent object
    of a rare and ugly obsession.
     
    This is the way you were forced to grow,
    not the means of which you acquired
    womanhood. You dared to rise above
    a circumstance no young girl ever should.
    You had to fight for independence,
    just to prove to him you could.

Monday, 05 September 2011

  • Desires the world can't satisfy

    I wish I could be a real singer --
    a woman who belts from her gut...
    but many a stage
    has been graced by those.
     
    I wish I could dance,
    feel stories in my bones,
    and perform them --
    with the awe of a dove soaring from a burning building...
    but scores of souls have already
    been ignited by those.
     
    I want to make art
    as tantalizing to the eyes
    as light kisses a horizon...
    but there have been
    more than enough canvases
    adorned with scenes like those.
     
    What I want is
    more than a distinguished profession,
    more than a bountiful talent...
     
    I think I was made
    not to perform,
    create,
    or do...
    but to glorify something.

Top Tags

[no tags]