10/21/04

Patterned obsessions have ruled my life,
presented as shadows or dreams that never die.
But are never fulfilled.
The healing eludes me, I sit here,
my wounds still fresh, my heart still broken,
lost in this life,
bored to the brink of insanity.
Faith so fleeting, comes and goes,
what have I got to believe in anyway?
the promise of things I have not seen,
my life remains this hell,
despite my prayers, and I have
given up inside.
I am surrounded by people who love me,
but can't know my soul, my fear, my pain,
which everyday haunts me, encasing me with
doubt and distrust and despair.
It is a decayed elegance that I now embrace,
I hold my head up high, look you in the eye,
but my soul wilts more every day, what you see is
not what you get.
Mutilated and desecrated,
as my soul dies a little more every minute.


Copyright S.L.C.

i lie awake thinking of you.
Numb with the emptiness of my soul.
i no longer cry, for that is weak.
no need to scream, no one to listin.
gotta stay strong.
no one can see my pain.
all i can think is....
why can't you love me?
why.....?

Her body is poetry and her curves are the words.
Her eyes are the hook and her lips, a cryptic verse.
As much as she pours out, there's not much you'll really know.
There's memories she hides, and even more that she won't let go.
She's simple at its best, yet chaotic at her worst.
She'll catch you with her hook, and leave you with her verse.

TWO loves had I. Now both are dead,
And both are marked by tombstones white.
The one stands in the churchyard near,
The other hid from mortal sight.

The name on one all men may read,        
And learn who lies beneath the stone;
The other name is written where
No eyes can read it but my own.

On one I plant a living flower,
And cherish it with loving hands;      
I shun the single withered leaf
That tells me where the other stands.

To that white tombstone on the hill
In summer days I often go;
From this white stone that nearer lies
I turn me with unuttered woe.

O God, I pray, if love must die,
And make no more of life a part,
Let witness be where all can see,
And not within a living heart.

we learn to uneducate
the educated
so they too
can learn whats its like to be in others shoes

a flame burning bright
a single light in the dead of night
illuminating the dark
dancing, burning hot
shades of red
shades of orange
shades of yellow
sparking desire
moving freely.
free?  as in freedom?
no! the flame is a captive!
because if it gets too strong...
disaster befalls everything it touches
such a wild flame, if allowed to breath,
would surely destroy.
a beauty, when controlled.
a nightmare when allowed to be free.

a raindrop falling from the sky
always changing.
never constant.
unreliable.
sometimes a gas
sometimes a liquid
sometimes a solid
a need for consistency lingers,
but it was not meant to be
nature is against its will
the need, the want-
it's strong...
it's just not strong enough

I'm a flame, he is rain
nature tells me to hate him.
he can destroy me
my power, my destructive force
it's nothing compared to his power
he consumes me. all of me.
leaves me burned out.
nothing.
so why, when I burn bright again, do I want that raindrop?
some sort of suicide, if that's what you want to call it.
emotional and mental suicide
I'm attracted to the very thing that could finish me.
he seeks to destroy me.
like a lion, who stalks his prey.
and with that, fear grips me...

I shrink, barley a whisper.
my brilliance dims...
and in the quiet of the starlit sky
I fade.
I seek not life.
nor death.
I live only for the chase.
my time of *******'s at hand
i shall return-with a vengance
that makes babies cry
and grown men
who are trained to exterminate me
quiver in their boots.
and he shall taste fear.
i come back
not as a flame...
but as a BLAZE!!

I tried to write an epic
Like those who've come before
It had to grab the reader
It had to leave them wanting more

How to start an epic
I've a line but it's not mine
I  could use it, as have others
I think most will think it's fine

But, it's been used so very often
By writers  we all know
Four words that grab the reader
Four words that make us go

We see these words and wonder
Where will our writer lead
Will we go to foreign countries?
Will we see someone in need?

I'm five verses in now,
I've not even started yet
I think I'll use the four words
They're the best I'm gonna get

So here is my beginning
In the sixth verse, and last line
I guess it's here where I'm beginning....
Once upon a time...