The Mockery of Fairyland
In silence watching as fellow fallow fairies dance,
Sylphs float above while gnomes furrow,
Donating water brothers,
Undine,
Spiritual creatures, unseen,
Creation of nature from nature,
Mankind evading,
Fairies will still catch your eye,
In form of genus butterfly,
God forbid you meet them,
Stumble on their fairy rings,
Never tell a fairy your name,
For in fairyland you may remain,
For safety's sake,
While out walking in the woods,
Inside out must wear your shirt,
Wear a ring of of iron!
So you can breach the fairies curse
Seven year cycles,
Fairies must donate to hell,
A good soul,Tam Hin,
He tricked the fairy queen,
She had to set him free,
Ti's said,
As man folk mate,
Fairies do true procreate,
A way akin to ours!
Hybrid fairies once existed,
Melancholy souls,
Too sad to live in fairyland,
Too fairy like to live on earth!
Titania she sits waiting,
For her Oberon to arrive,
King and queen of fairyland, in literacy,
Supreme,
No Fallacy!
By ladylivvi1
The taste of her lips.
The feel of her hands, intertwined in my hands.
Of her eyes locked with mine.
Of her spirit dancing with mine, so close...
When we dance, but she is afar...my spirit travels over roads a plenty.
When my arms are not around her, they feel empty.
Yearning.
Pining.
Need.
Yet, soon, her arms will return to my arms, and her spirit will dance with mine.
But until then, I stand...in what feels like a lake of frozen water.
Still.
Unmoving.
Alone.
My love was not blindness
But the only truth
That you could take to be true
Never comprehending
Always
Doubting
Debasing
Damning
My love
Not as noble
As your love—
Your love was not blindness.
By no means, did
I succeed in moderation;
With you my feelings, like my words,
Came in bursts of awkward energy;
I couldn’t control the volume
And never realized
Until you told me I was yelling in your ear,
(You particularly hated yelling),
And I quieted down for a time.
Maybe I was too loud,
But of the words themselves
I should not have been ashamed.
My love was not blindness.
Blinded, could I have
Seen what you buried within yourself?
Believe me, all I wanted was to help you
Bury all for good, but in aid,
I found myself under the dirt
And before long suffocated to death.
My love was not blindness.
I deny Dostoyevsky’s distinction,
An error of translation, perhaps;
Even in the most compatible of languages,
One language will lack the means of expressing
A word so important in the other.
We’re the same person, we always said
But I couldn’t invoke that here—
Here where it mattered more
Than it ever had.
My love was not blindness.
Tell me this,
how nice is paradise
is everything free
or is it cut price
Is it Harrods or a Tesco?
That's what I'd like to know.
Do you sit do you sing
do you do anything
or do you just float in the air
are there many up there?
can you fall in love
or is it just him up above you adore
what do you wear?
I care to know.
One day I'll go and give it a shot
will you forget me not?
in the gardens of Eden we'll meet
parting is not sweet
just bitter.
There is this space that exists inside.
In between my ribs and just under my heart.
It's not in a place to constantly remind me of its presence there.
But it does get nudged from time to time.
It holds onto things I've tried to rise above, to let go of...
But never fully doing so.
Things like negativity and doubt and stubbornness...
Like self esteem bruising childhood judgements.
Like bitter regret of missing out on "I love you" before someone dies.
Like ignorant teenage decisions there was no reason to be making.
Like that secret you told and the one you promised to keep.
Like dutifully cleaning up after destruction since it was easier than starting over new.
Like the coltish grace of learning to be a woman without one.
Like leading a child with having no direction of your own.
Like taking that last piece.
Like hoping karma takes over.
Like waiting for a sign before walking away from toxic people.
Like throwing your heart out there with only faith and hope to be its wings.
Like innate fear of being alright with who you truly are.
Like disappointment for taking all these years to figure yourself out.
Those are some things that rattle around on a quiet and calm night.
On a night that finally arrives after strenuous days bleeding together...
They ghost in and remind you they're still there.
It used to terrorize the still moments when that happened.
No control over the flood of images and empathy associated with each and every reminder.
I thought it was in times like that, when drowning with the sorrows of yesterday was just as easy as an exhale.
But I was wrong...
I was mislead in my own thoughts.
Because when I was tapped on the shoulder by history.
It wasn't trying to hold me back.
It wasn't intending to maim my conscious.
I believe in fact, it just simply wanted to show progress.
To show the "then", compared to the "now"
How every piece of who I am today was shaped and structured in part, to everything I haven't let go of yet.
How do you know when your soul is weaker than strong but mighty enough to fight?
In being made to contemplate all the wonderful and fulfilling things and parts of who we are,
We also have to give credit to the dark pieces
The events and people that have burdened and burnt but never destroyed.
Like any balance in life we acknowledge both light and shadow.
Appreciation of the good in our lives is more fluid when we have proof of the struggles we've overcome.
Be it years ago or hours,
Seeing how far you've come from that which had held you under or has trampled your spirit.
It helps enlighten bit by bit.
And a step at a time is how we all move forward into who we're meant to be.
So i think, that space that exists very close to my heart but just far enough away...
I think I'm okay with it being there.
It may hold scars in the eyes of others
But I know scars are just golden reminders;
Of that which make us stronger.
For if one has no scars, what has one conquered?
©NDHK
I'd like to have tea with you
Every morning
Until you look like your grandfather
©NDHK
Something as simple as going to a movie alone.
It can be the best adventure.
It's nice to have wiggle room to just... go.
You don't have to worry about waiting for someone to tag along.
Don't have to worry that you won't get to sit here you want.
Don't have to worry about them stealing your popcorn.
Don't have to deal with their laughing at scenes that aren't really that funny.
And you get the armrest all to yourself.
Yes, it nice to have that freedom of entertaining yourself.
But then sometimes...
After going to see your tenth movie alone.
You start to feel like you have too much time just staring at the lighting before the movie starts.
You've sat just about everywhere in the theater by then.
You wish there was someone there to turn to when something is funny enough to share.
And the armrest sits there mockingly, like it's caging in your loneliness.
And you realize... you never really do finish all you popcorn.
©NDHK
You ran down the sidewalk
from the front porch
creating water bombs under your feet
with every patter.
Struggling to gain speed
as your summer dress
gradually became a sponge.
The thunderous mini shouts
coming from your mouth
stopped me dead.
Shamefully trying
to hold up the facade between
my expression and your heart
was agonizing.
As you made it up to the spot
my feet backed up from,
glowing desperation
could be seen in your
water well eyes.
Simultaneously stomping side to side
and tugging harshly down
my shirt you looked up
with a pleading confusion that
broke something inside me.
I couldn't give you
a straight simple explanation
for the question you kept
begging over and over to be answered.
You couldn't understand
how difficult the decision
to walk away from you that night was.
The choice
to better the one
who was to better you.
It was selfish
but in that moment I needed
to be for the right reasons
this time.
Let me tell you now though,
that you reaching up
and hanging off my neck like a pendant,
almost made me
toss the idea that I could do it
on my own and succeed,
appear believable.
I inhaled the smell of you
until I felt my lungs burn
and I held on hoping to convey
the meaning of this crisis in time
through our skin.
I couldn't give life
to the words you shouldn't of had to hear.
My time was running down
and my willpower
was getting edgy.
I knew that if I didn't
take those steps
into the unknown
I wouldn't be able to walk by your side
in all of our tomorrows.
So as you fought the untangling
of your scared limbs
and exhumed that agony smeared face
from my chest,
I breathed you in once more.
When you finally reached
a bump in the constant trill of sobs
pouring from your mouth I said,
"I love you. This is just for a little while. I will come back for you always."
I knew you hated those words
as I said them
but loved hearing me talk.
It meant that was
another minute more you had with me.
I kept up the
reassurance for the same reason.
A definitive honk
behind me proceeded the
collapse of your restraint.
Thrashing forward
with hawk like fingers
and indistinguishable words
you were held back with help.
It enraged me
to feel as if I couldn't touch you
but it was for both our benefits.
Holding onto your eyes
and the last of my control,
I grimaced a smile
that couldn't quite make it
and turned.
I rolled the window down
to get the full effect of you voice
in my head to take with me.
It would be the push
to do better,
be better.
When the driver asked
if I was ready
I said yes
while screaming never inside.
I squeezed shut my lids
and prayed I was already
back in our home
cuddled up together
on the rainy porch.
All in the matter of minutes
I felt the precious innocence
drain partly from
our life.
Thankful to the rain
for at least hiding my
swollen eyes from you.
If I could leave you
with the illusion
of strength
I hadn't earned yet.
Feeling the car pull
slower than necessary
is what did it.
My senses over powered me
as I gasped out
that horribly contain sob.
I knew it was
the right thing I had to do
but it was killing me.
I cut out my heart
and left it with you.
All to the
gradually fading song of your sorrow
from my window.
"Come back mama, come back!"
©NDHK
The evil of man
I surly know
I know my own thoughts
As well...
When someone
Betrays or backstabs
Or cheats...
We become bitter
Our true hearts reveal
The true evil within us
Without any will...
Be it Jealousy,
Greed, Power
Or Lust
All ignite a hellish
Fire in us...
These very things
Have run through
My head
The many of times
That I saw red...
So shocking the anger
And things within
That came from my mouth
I wished I'd never said...
Brought knowledge of
The evil of man
We are all evil to
Some extent...
Why were we made to
Have feelings as such?
It's an unfair commodity
That's conquering us...
I don't like the feelings
That evilness brings...
It makes me not want
To hear, see, or feel
But its time to realize
That its very real!
I remember so vividly what you looked like when you were saying goodbye.
You were looking up at me with the sun in your eyes and in your hair.
You were squinting and frowning and searching for words.
I asked you why you were there and without skipping a beat you answered
“Because I might not have another chance after this.”
I didn’t want to think you were right – I wanted to contradict you,
but some part of me knew you had a point.
So I said nothing.
And you shrugged.
And you turned around and you kept saying goodbye.
And I don’t think I'll ever forget it.
