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Poetry

Little yellow bottle sitting on the windowsill,
asking if I’m ready for my little white pill.
Will it be just one today, or two or three?
If I had a say in things it’d already be empty.
Yet I try to be good in spite of the pain,
Never worry about the poison in my veins
that can barely rise to the occasion
When it comes time to get filled up again.
“It’s the best option we have” they say,
while I grin and utter “I’m okay”.
It’s my only option,
So I guess I’ll keep walking this way.

I was wandering in a war-field when it happened,

Bleary eyed and alone, stumbling over debris,

Curious as to why the canons of my ramparts ceased.

The once lush green landscape I cherished, now blackened;

deep gashes and fallen oaks lay in splintered heaps.

Yet in spite of all that remained in utter disrepair,

all that seemed disastrous and rife with despair,

A reincarnation of Athena arose from afar

ascending a hill to the East like a phoenix

Rising unscathed from the ashes around her.

Her hair caught in the breeze and streamed

like dark chestnut flames setting the air on fire;

each tendril struck the ether like flint upon stone.

And the deep brown in her almond eyes alighted

Like twin beacons of hope to the lost and the stranded;

They drew me in without effort, I found it futile to resist.

______

At first it was blinding, her inimitable light,

the ethereal gleam cast by the setting sun

Reflected like Archimedes’ fire from her armor,

A burnished silver suit with ornate engravings

flowing like intricate streams of gold from head to toe,

Forcing my eyes to adjust to her otherworldly glow.

______

She rode atop a white stallion with a red bridle,

Studded with sapphire stones and polished silver rivets,

its silken mane flowed like the finest threads

Spun by the nimblest hands of Olympia’s best.

The rider then surveyed the ashen wastes strewn

About her by the gnarled hands of the misled,

yet she showed no sign of reluctance, no urge to flee

instead, she called across the field, beckoning

With an outstretched hand, and a beaming smile.

______

Swiftly it shattered my inhibitions, that simple flash of teeth.

And as I grew closer, a warmth began to bloom within my chest,

At first like a candle trying to illuminate a vast and empty room,

slowly growing into a vibrant torch alighting every corner.

I felt my body relax as I was pulled closer toward the hill,

Enveloped in a tender warmth this body had never know before.

My eyes grew heavy and before I arrived, they had all but closed

allowing myself to fall under her spell, with her hand now upon my head,

and a whisper in my ear that “destruction never revives the dead;

hear me now, you cannot let the dark times rule your kingdom

For the sun does not shine on a mind with closed doors.

Let the light filter through, tear down those towering walls

And allow your soul to live free of such poisonous pride.”

______

 When her hand raised slowly from my head, my eyes opened;

the world had regained its color, the ancient oaks now stood tall

The upturned earth now settled into grassy plains,

And the songbirds were filling the air with their avian twang.

The divots and the shrapnel embedded in my walls disappeared.

And though the rider had vanished, her influence remained.

Do you know what it is to be tortured in love?

Not that it may see you perish within the day,

instead it eats at you slowly as you wither away.

Whatever strength you had left to look forward

And instead, found yourself looking back in dismay?

Have you felt the petals of a rose, like a bouquet of daggers

Sliding gently, without injury, along the line of your throat?

Threatening the ultimate, yet delivering only fear.

I ask, have you ever felt the burning of unrequited love?

You’re under five foot six,
Yet you’re a skyscraper!
You’ve got a taste for kicks,
well known for your capers,
And when you get your fix
You’ll headline the papers!

You soar above the clouds:
With wisdom you’ll teach
That a sunrise is just how
To put a night beyond reach.
So no matter the row,
The past may never breach.

Your future was never written,
You’ve got a lifetime of discovery.
If we see you, you’ll be smitten
Because life is one big reverie,
And if we take the time to listen,
Your words, a golden memory.

You don’t believe in fate,
And the wander in your eye
Might say it’s getting late;
It’s apropos to say goodbye.
Like a tower, your roots are great,
Your head forever held high.

Love can be a terrible curse, and the ultimate blessing.
It will see you rise above the tumult of everyday life
Like a God among mere mortals.
It will show you seasons in a way you’ve never experienced,
through the eyes of a child, wild with wonder
With the eagerness of youth to explore its boundaries,
to reach in and grab ahold of the world at its best.
It takes a new form, and shows you what you’ve been missing.
But just as easily as it lifts your heart,
As easily as it cures a plague of the mind,
or an insecurity that’s followed you through time,
As easily as it cleanses the conscience,
It can just as easily demolish your hope.
When the center can no longer hold,
And all falls through, to pain’s hungry jaw below
Love remains above the clouds, while you,
are sent tumbling toward the unforgiving ground.
But love is persistent, as it will come to be known
It will be witness to your demise, yet in your eyes
It only spells “hope”
And when that day comes, when hope is brought anew
You can bet that the feeling is healing when love comes back to you

O this ache has found new depths

Burrowing deeper with every second

Spent in exile from your caress.

I haven’t a clue if I have spoken

Out of term, or have I broken

Some trust you thought I’d earned?

O how I wish you’d tell me dear,

Why it is you refuse to come near,

When just days before,

On our warm golden shore,

We drank the stars to our delight

Until the pale silver light,

Of a full moon bathed your skin

In an ethereal glow.

O how I wish you’d come back

To the ways of yesterday

O how I wish, how I wish…

Before I fall too far, away from you

Before the weight of loneliness,

Implodes, rending my heart in two.

It was another fever dream
A bender loosening slowly,
Then tearing out the seam.

The yarn ain’t flowin’ true
When the tale has two ends
And it all ends in a feud

But what’s a man to do,
When his lover loves another
And no quick thinking
Will make it untrue?

What’s a man to do.

My heart knows not days, weeks, months or years.

It knows not the sub-zero Winter or the gale winds of Fall.

It knows not the pleasantry brought by another’s call.

It knows not the twilight before the darkness of night.

Nor the Rooster’s cry when sensed the sun’s faintest light.

It only knows of the warmth her porcelain skin emanates.

It only knows of the swift step in her royal gait.

It only knows of the smile that shatters inhibitions.

And of Cupid’s arrow, flying true to its mission;

urging miles traversed, only love could coerce.

All conscious moments lay still in a last embrace.

The scent of her hair, the glow in her eyes,

For nothing since has given reason to rise.

 

Writer’s note: I labeled this as “Take II” because it is actually a poem I wrote a very long while ago but I’ve recently looked it over and made a few changes.