A Cup Of Sunbeams

Feb 2016

Skaidrum

~

"No one likes your poetry because they don't understand it."

"Congratulations, welcome to reality."
.

I write for the soul fading out of my own skin.
I am not a popular poet.

Feb 2016

Skaidrum

Wilt

Rotten turquoise hangs like
that promise I made to a
dead man.
I can hear the stars wailing
is heaven a truly peaceful place to rest?
In the fields of grief I found you,
picking dead flowers,
because you couldn't stand the sight of them
anymore
I asked you,
"Do you hear him?"
and the words fell like fists
into your silence,

"I died all alone."

What a pity.

© Copywrite Skaidrum

A Cup Of Sunbeams Feb 2016

Labelling Prohibited

"Don't you ever dare
to call him black
again."

*It's not the colour of our skin, that defines us.

I should have stepped up when I had the chance to.
I'm sorry that I didn't...

Feb 2016

Skaidrum

Gold is Lonely.

...
"She is indeed the happiest Oracle of Leo the Lion,
            born as his innocent prophet
                                     of divine sunlight~
tumbling~
                  spilling;
                                   "eternal flower."
                                                                :to recite the amber
                                                                 prophecies with
                                                         the lions ~fire'tongue~
                                                   in showers of orange rain.
She was the king's candle;
      a starlit lantern of medallion grace.
She wears a dress of violet promises and peace
              that tickles the wind to knock on the sky.
Asking the nightfall of questions in sleeping stars~
                                         "Why do I miss her?"
Her words were fused with kindness and marigolds;
                to cleanse the darkest infections within
                                                              a lion's soul
                                               and his injured pride.

You are so lonely, Leonie.
With your heart forgotten in the lions cave.
                   Loyalty is built on your visions and bones.
Yellow masks that paint the walls of your prison,
              and it's a sadness that the king cannot mend.
              So this isolation becomes the voice of reason.
and freedom is the voice of treason.

Deep within the lions den, the ceiling fell at 2 a.m,
twisting~
             buckling;
                        demolishing,
                                        :stones falling to their knees.
With hope and reckless saltwater dreams
                    she fled with ember feet to see
the moonlight showering in.

Notes of silver plucked the wind,
         as ink and blue stirred the rubble
There stood a girl, on cracked stone table;
with a white rabbits' mask and metallic hair.
         Willow vines weeping along her arms
dress as deep as crow feathers;
                         and the hush of a dragon's wing
swinging from her neck;
                        crystals throwing light in her wake.

"My prophecy said you would come."
futures that unravel at a white line in the dust;

                           And the darkness pulled on her robes of silk;
                                           while she took off the mask
                              and blue eyes met golden windows
                       Descending to meet the oracle in wisdom;
                               a warning whispered to her
                                         ties with solitude
        The moon spoke with a thousand tongues that night;

"You have to roar Leonie; So the heavens can hear you."
...

Are you brave enough to tell yourself
that you don't need tisha anymore my dear?
You've always been strong;
I believe in you.

© Copywrite Skaidrum

Jan 2016

A Dash of Red

A Celestial Pair

You two are sadly misunderstood.
From ancient lore to modern poetry and children's stories,
You are depicted as light and dark
Hot and cold
Life and death
But that's not it, is it?

You are not sworn enemies,
Fighting for our time, gratitude, and even worship.
You are not these polar opposites,
But lovers,
Attempting to get close to each other.
Going round and round in the wrong direction.

One is the light of the other's life,
And the peaceful, quiet love that the other needs.

You are the Sun and the *Moon

My dear star-crossed lovers, read this and know who you are.