punto / contrappunto (patty m /nat)
(on the why of messaging, on the Underground HP)

none can fly,                          all can fly
except in words,                   in deeds, indeed,
yet others turn                      those who believe turn
lead into gold,                       golden faerie dreams real,
penciled in the salvation     hints inked upon the skin
of the host, the blessing       are the blessings of the host,
of solving great puzzles.      deeds of salvation solutions.

Yet unbeknownst for many.  known to all
its jiggling all the quarks,      the clashing of the neutrons
spinning electrons that          within all of our protein protons
affect many,                             effected upon each,
invisible all is hidden.            where all was hidden, now visible

the message that isn't             let our acts speak ever louder
transmitted,                             realized,
holds no power, yet it             a time for action
remains a black screen            for each message, now an action    
in the catacombs                      in the clarity of daylight
waiting, waiting there,            no longer waiting,
millions of little pieces            each action a deed
when finally viewed                the summation total
                 
                                 grows gargantuan
                               funneling radiation
                                     from the sun.

Climbing roofs,                       to the streets leaping
sliding down drainpipes       knocking to open all doors
to the street,                             filling the stadiums & squares
I'll wait with you,                   no laggards, all in attendence
            
                                         they will come,
                                         poet after poet,
                                    spreading the word,
                              words to deeds, each of us
                           a messenger and a conductor,
                            orchestrating the symphony
                                        of revelation.
              Patty m.                                                       Nat

I've dreamt a little dream
Tucked it in, safe and snug
In that little corner of my mind
Resting, 'til it feels that tug

When my heart gives a call
As it sees my eyes begin to awaken
The dream will break its slumber
The cloak of past defeats, gladly forsaken

I stand, eager and willing
To embark proudly into the night
With confidence my armour
And my only friend, the moonlight

Shadows no longer scare me
As they follow me down the road
My doubts and insecurities left behind
No worries, I've finally broken the code

I wade through the darkness
To reach the other side
My nervous shakes' not a weakness
But a roar to the tide

I will swim through the tumultous waters
Of destiny and time
The stars will no longer write my fate
Let the clock chime

Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
floating, sinking, fading.
Mist seeping into your bones,
condensing within your mind,
confusion in the purest form.
Dancing fireflies taunting you
with their certainty.
Skin turning inside out
to the sound of your own song,
afraid of what those melodies might mean.
Until tomorrow
you will be lost to the night,
so enjoy the stars
shining their apologies
for leading you astray
and run your fingers
through the glowing water.

I am on an island.
An island surrounded
by streets and houses, ebbing and flowing
with light. People crash and rush
through me and past me
yet I am still trapped on this island.
Everywhere is shared -
I am invisible
yet they are watching me.
My hands are shaking
and spilling the contents of this heart
over myself. They will see,
they will hear.
Eyes. Mouths.
Words pointed at me,
bullets waiting to explode,
tear through me.
Collision.
Breath like hot blood on my neck,
dripping into me.
An expanse of hollow space
filled with nothing but terror.

His burning hands trace
spiralling trails across my body,
echoing my outlines
with fervent magma.
His fingers are magnets
drawn to my rough edges, cracked
hands of glass smoothing me over.
Try as I might,
I blink to the beat of his heart,
cry to the flow of his love.
I am no longer my own.
I was a girl
of the purest black and white,
living a grayscale life.
He is warming and heating me
to a vivid red,
eyes burning blue,
skin dark with desire.
He comes in colours everywhere,
purple joy, green mystery,
the sound of his eyes catching mine.
The reverberation of his music
is enough to stain my life
with colour more vivid
each time his hands meet my face
to pull it towards his.

I want you to walk with me to somewhere
better than this, where the sky
won't be black as pain or tortured and blue.
You are adopting my heart
as you take it beyond the furthest reaches
of joy, to that place where your beauty
comes from. A land of music and freedom lives
within you and now I can see it.
I need you to hold me with those peaceful arms
cradling my weakened bones as you drape
your soul over mine to thaw it,
heal it, let its bruises fade. Keep me safe
when the blood stops flowing
and the tears stop burning
and all that is left is your fingers
brushing the tears from my cheek,
your concerned eyes on mine,
your tan skin glowing umber in the candlelight.
When your eyebrows fall
under the weight of my burden,
your sealed lips will trail
your dizzy thoughts across my mind,
words of beauty unspoken, heard.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.