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Mar 2014 · 468
phenomenon
Zemyachis Mar 2014
The tiniest tear slid down my face last night
Tucked in with darkness
And no one had to see

It was one-fourth melancholy  
Three percent nostalgia
Two-fifths wishing
Another quarter H2O
and point-zero-seven salt

I plan on running more tests on it tomorrow,

                                                   !  Because for the life of me

? I just can't quite pin down  

                      ... Why with the sunny weather-day I had ...


There was any precipitation.
will the scientific method help?

*/fəˈnäməˌnän,-nən/
a fact or situation that is observed to exist or happen, esp. one whose cause or explanation is in question.
Mar 2014 · 800
April Junco
Zemyachis Mar 2014
wafting cherry blossom-flakes
              snowing into downy clouds
                    alight upon dark skeleton bones
                                       no longer bare

                                              as falling puffs of winter feathers
                                                        ­           gather gently how I wish
                                                             I knew to construct a home
                                                        so sound

         as that little architect
                     who tests each twig upon
                                                     the ground
Mar 2014 · 367
Courtney and William
Zemyachis Mar 2014
it doesn't make much sense to say she has the heart of a ******
because I feel like every ****** has a different kind of heart

"and those who don't have a heart generally die"

thanks for that, william
I always come into these conversations in the middle and end up confuzzled. I'm not sure they know what they're talking about either.
Mar 2014 · 902
The Watchmaker's Wife
Zemyachis Mar 2014
~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~

My first love, so soft and steady
When did you become so frail
Since the veil I lifted from your morning face?

When did that constant heart of yours
Wane and flicker in the dale
Your cheek pale as a brush of garter lace

That pocket watch I forged with love
To last a lifetime give it here
Though I fear to play at God, I need more time

Marilyn, drink your tea and sleep
Worry not what I do with fire, with brass
This will pass pumping cogs in motion all a-chime

Now

Let me rest my head upon your chest
Listen intent to the rhythm
Of you still here with me

I cannot hold fate off forever but

Hold me dear, at least a little longer
Before you go.


tick. tock.
.••♪ღ♪••.¸¸¸.•¨(¯'’•.¸(♥)¸.• ’´¯)¨•.¸¸¸.••♪ღ♪••.
Robert Koffler Jarvik, M.D. (born May 11, 1946) is an American scientist, researcher and entrepreneur known for his role in developing the Jarvik-7, the first successfully implemented artificial heart. This artificial heart sustained the first patient 112 days, the second, 620. He is not a watchmaker, but his wife's name is Marilyn.
Nov 2013 · 2.9k
If I died right now
Zemyachis Nov 2013
Yes I jumped in those leaves
crunchy, fluffy, autumn leaves
Waded in the decorative fountain
Climbed on the public art

Yes I danced swing in the BART station
Hid in the grocery store among rolls of
toilet paper
Had to *** a ride after the Dicken's faire
Played in the rain
Hugged my mother
Made my dad take me to see Tangled in 3D

Yes I measured the baking soda for those
dinosaur chocolate chip cookies
Loved Steve Irwin will all my childhood admiration
Was afraid of the Deep End
Memorized Shel Silverstein

Remember my sister reading me Harry Potter
Gripping my best friend on Tower of Terror, Indiana Jones, Space Mountain
Sang Christmas Carols in October
And I'm not even sorry

I was a pirate paleontologist pop-star
pokemon master steampunk rocker renaissance girl who
time-traveled, hunting T-rex
adventuring with Christopher Robin, Calvin and Hobbes

Made two corsages for my junior prom, fed ducks,
ate at Mels, posed in the dollar store, watched
the Avengers in our glittering dresses for the second

Laughed so hard I cried about the stupidest things
I doubted, got lost in Costco, found my faith
Had my prayers answered
For the bestest, most faithful friends
I have the "simple human relief of knowing you’ve done wrong, and living through it"

And don't take this the wrong way
It's not like I'm going to jump off a bridge
Well, maybe with a bungee cord?

But if I died right now
****! Gone.
I wouldn't say I envied anybody
Not really

We've had a pretty **** great time
haven't we?

Oh sure I'd protest
Places to go, people to see, things to eat, but...

As long as You forgive me
my faults

Whose to say,
There is anything else I HAVE to do
Before I have lived a GREAT life

I have nothing to prove
besides that I am grateful
for this breath of life
which may pass at any moment
Aug 2013 · 852
The Body a Cage
Zemyachis Aug 2013
Born out of an unmarked grave
Molded from the dirt a slave
With eyes fumbling in the dark--

I feel

A sparrow trapped in my ribcage
My gifted little pressure gauge
Who though she pleads can't disembark

This vessel.

She pecks at my liver
convicts guilt while I shiver,
And ****** at my heart when I am numb.

I listen to her wings abeat
A flutter-***-drum so petite
It makes me wonder what I've become.

But a wimeywobbly found belief
I'm quite sure that time is brief
When unawares she'll break loose my chest

A treasure,

half a pretty penny for my soul,
Chamber unlocked, He paid the toll
Sparrow, my spirit...
                escape, you short-stayed guest
Stanza 1: references creation from the dirt, inherently a slave to evil with no clear sight or purpose
Stanza 2: introduces something not physical, a conscience of sorts that cannot leave the body
Stanza 3: as a person's spirit, the sparrow must convict wrongdoing (refers to prometheus's punishment and themes of pride/playing at God) and ***** the heart to empathy for others
Stanza 4: Somehow the sparrow has a connection to a person's fragile lifespan, causes soul searching
Stanza 5: the brevity of life is clearer and death is intertwined with liberation
Stanza 6: Matthew 10:29 "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care." Do the math. And know a soul is worth more than any regular cent, and the full amount has been paid to free it.  
Last line: Spirit and Body part as relatively short acquaintances
Jul 2013 · 702
Like Cats
Zemyachis Jul 2013
My stray thoughts amuse me
But they are not loyal
They go wherever they please. And give me sass. I need a lion tamer for the little feral, egotistical beasts.
Jun 2013 · 371
little star
Zemyachis Jun 2013
first star out at night,
don't you know it's getting dark?
it looks like you're all alone
to me.
you must know
something
I don't.
Zemyachis May 2013
He hung up the stars on hooks of steel
Drew them in tight with a silver reel
Wrapped the world in wire
So I could feel
What it would be like to be human

But I didn't listen, pretended I never knew...
I danced in the rain, A thing forbidden to do
Till my circuits ran short
Electrified without cue
Then... I felt what it was to be human
So, apparently an electrical fuse is a "sacrificial device" in that it involves a strip of metal that melts in order to interrupt a circuit from overload/excessive current. Essentially, it's a safety net that protects from overheating or fire. All I hope is that I have one someplace because I am suffering from mental and emotional overload. Happy Finals testing, kids!
Zemyachis May 2013
There is a fountain flowing,
a thin, pure stream of melody
unbedazzled by cymbals and trumpets
rather,
the bending of willow boughs
the strain of violins
stringing away at my heart
drops of ivory, plunking
wet and dewy on the ground
a song laid naked, exposed
the longest sigh
that billows off precipices
into an abandoning
breath of clarity.
Zemyachis May 2013
Sitting in the after-sun of a chair freshly rained on
Just starting to dry
Wet jeans, who cares, it's nice out
I'm going to read about Odysseus
And all his series of unfortunate events.
I was at the part in the underworld where
all the souls are drinking the blood offering and
giving their past-life histories
When I heard a crinkling,
And peering under the table, saw
a red squirrel (the kind only those who hate non-native species can truly dislike with a passion)
shuffling a cumbersome
brown candy, a milky way
in his handsome claws,
Whiskers twitching as he munched,
Like bouncing eyebrows,
Stuck with
Strands of chewy caramel.
He clutched at his high-calorie treasure,
spitting out gold and silver foil,
black, beady eyes, glistening greedily
as if to say "My precious"
Till he snatches up the last crumble
of chocolate.
I've sat watching-still so long
He approaches my foot
At which I call him a fat little squirrel
And he runs off, indignant
Leaving behind,
His
Desecrated Christmas package.
May 2013 · 640
Short-Term Memory
Zemyachis May 2013
Find a way
Each and every day
To remind me that you love me
Or else I will forget.

~
~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~*~
Zemyachis Apr 2013
taste
like the feeling of walking out the door
and taking in that clean, bright air
slightly scented with chlorine
by the hot poolside
deep, sky blue water
so cool
wade in

green beans snapping in your mouth

sound
like that last step
meant to be stealthy
touching down on a landmine of twigs,
the falling
of a thousand miniature trees, in sequence
with an axe.
almost,
the juicy crackling of a
campfire, after it's consumed
that accidently drooping marshmallow.
forgive it
as it blackens, warps, and crumbles
it tried to hold on.

green beans snapping in your mouth

smell like dry
ice vapors, that float, free
as a spirit, undefined,
like glass shard cuts
of freshly mowed grass,
breathe in that vibrant green,
discarded and scattered
like an answer blowing in the wind
through the waves of a spring
field, full of thin whistling reeds,
hanging wind bells
on the eave,
dripping with rain.
Listen to the
sweet, nothing-tang tones
delicious
silent-music

can't quite describe
the sensation--
green beans snapping in your mouth
Mar 2013 · 1.9k
Dinner with Dad
Zemyachis Mar 2013
The cheery, bronze bell heralds our coming--
A stout, brown man, a happy Buddha wearing my father’s vest
And his diminutive daughter, a caramel girl with inquisitive eyes
Marveling over the lush painted settings
The tapestries of women with slanted eyes,
Sitting precariously on rocks, surrounded by wild ocean-foam
Mermaid mistresses I imagine
With long golden nails,
A holy temple atop each brow, an adorning crown

Past the multicolored, patterned elephants
And silk orchid flowers,
Gliding across dark, cherry-chocolate wood
Lacquered, glossy as her watching eyes
As if all were coated with amber honey-sap

They take their thrones.

The windows are draped in lace and purple
The color of monarchs, even the plump, crystal glasses
Shine pale maroon, like African violets, in their elegance
And a Bengal Sugar Sweet Tiger, swims in each cup
Dusky orange, as a faded sunset
Belly up he is curled, exposing white soft cream…

And florescent rice crackers
Lie popped in a porcelain dish
Stiff and bright,
Like skeleton jellyfish, frozen
In mid-propelled undulation,
About to escape
Before they are dipped and broken
In sticky pepper, gold-gilded sauce

Rich curries; satay, with alien names
Are laid before them, feast upon feast
Savory meats and vegetables soaked in vinegars;
A parade of colors and textures and tastes
Every plate garnished, an artwork…

And while she surveys this domain,
In all its tiny grandeur, a feeling of
Dignity creeps down her shoulder, straightens her spine
To think that part of her is from such a kingdom
Though she might never see it
To still feel like royalty,
The Queen of Siam.
describing a particular Thai restaurant
Mar 2013 · 932
Unfinished 3/24/13
Zemyachis Mar 2013
Aaaa
       aaaa
                   aaah…
Little Claire’s last words before she went
Turned phantom, lost forever from the touchable world
I know her as the ghost who hides in the kitchen cabinets,
Haunting our tea saucers,
And other good china…
Unable to cross over that fine river
Searching, incomplete, she is
Unsatisfied in some way
If only she could remember why

I am forgetful too
Mother is mad at me
I didn’t dust the cabinet linings
Like she asked
But Claire is so grateful, because I forgot
Just long enough, for the dust to
Gather
What she left unfinished,
A simple sneeze,
She really didn’t have a clue.

Finally…
Choo!
No more unfinished business.

*God bless you, Claire.
I don’t look to the cabinet,
I know she’s not there. =)
Mar 2013 · 511
Leave the Ground
Zemyachis Mar 2013
Find a funny phrase
               A flighty feather
                         Let it tumble, twirl
                                Wonder, whirl
          Settle, softly on your nose
       To slip and fall,
        The loosed petal of a rose
             A skeleton autumn leaf
                             **** it with your toe
                                                  Pick it up and blow
                                                                up to the wind
                                                         No fickle feeling
                   Empty sentiment could understand
                 That breeze
                    When your feet
                           finally leave the ground
Mar 2013 · 1.4k
FINITE
Zemyachis Mar 2013
Asleep in math class, not me, the matrices
Nobody cares about them it seems,
They lie, tucked in, drowsy between the textbook pages of more important chapters
But today, I finally saw the magic in them
The numbers dance
You can take two matrices, written in powdery chalk,
On the smooth, green ballroom floor on the wall
And watch, as if underwater, all is murmurs, all music
Comprehension of a different sort than paying attention
As the entries shift and multiply and add
Moving, sliding, locking into place like Tetris
And only some partners are compatible, and only under certain circumstances
2X3 and 3X5 meet in the middle, merge and mutate into 2X5
Two become one, each bringing their differences to the ball
New dimensions
Translating, the rows become columns and the whole constellation
Spins, twirling, kaleidoscope
Square matrices waltz
Others salsa and tango
Slowing, slowing, sinking into the final dip
Finding identity
1     0     0
0     1     0
0     0     1
And of course, there is no spoon. <3 to Bonnie even though that movie was weird
Feb 2013 · 581
Averted
Zemyachis Feb 2013
Off-kilter, askew, the way I see you
Your slice of a smile
From the corner of my vision,
Falling through the cracks in my hands
Hiding my face in the shy shadows, the pillow, your arm
Searching intently in the cob-web corners,
Anything but look straight into you.

Did the moon come unhinged?
It is sideways tonight.
Or maybe it is only the tilt of the earth,
In perplexed concentration.

When I first admired the moon,
That is when I first saw you.
You make the whole world brighter
Seriously, you must have upped the saturation
In the photo of that lily.

I cannot stare down the sun;
The fire, the heat.
Much safer,
To be stroked by gentle touching rays.
So forgive me, if I avert my eyes.
I’ve come out of the dark and stepped into the sun
For the very first time.
My eyes will adjust.



February 11, 2013   8:41pm
Jan 2013 · 497
Ugh... that was a mistake
Zemyachis Jan 2013
I'm hitting my head against a tree
Because nothing is how I wish it would be
I'm cold 'cuz it's winter
Hope I don't get a splinter
You can find me here next spring
Jan 2013 · 3.2k
Eyes like Outerspace
Zemyachis Jan 2013
☆。★。☆。★
。☆ 。☆。☆
★。\|/。★
Steal away my oxygen
Can't breathe when I'm next to you
Let me envelope you like a note,
Gravitate closer, be your atmosphere
Pull me around you like a warm jacket
Button me in
To keep out the cold
Of the night
Look at the
Constellations
Aren’t they so bright?

But, you know what I think?
The most beautiful skies
Are inside of your eyes

Stop, don’t blink
Let me sink a little deeper
I don’t need a telescope to see
That supernova
Expanding infinitely

Like a ripple that a pebble makes
The clicking shutter
That takes all of me in
Houston, we have a problem
I can’t escape this black hole
It’s pulling me in

I’ll reach out into that darkness
Brave all of your ice and coldness
For that little cosmos with veins of gold;
Shades of blue,
Green and brown,
So simple,
Nonjudgmental as a penny
That’s been left out in the rain
Many times before

Once more
I’ve caught your glancing flit
Asteroids approaching
I take a direct hit
Falling endlessly, consumed
Among the billions of stars in your eyes

Like Major Tom, I would accept that fate,
To float in limbo
Lost in that space
Out of sight

If worm holes existed
I’d sink through all that
Depth,
Come through the other side

And find that alternate universe--
The dimension where you would have me.
There is no corner of space to call home without you

Three.
Two.
One.

Lift-off.
★。/|\。★
。☆。 。☆。
☆。 ★。 ☆.
*For those who don't know-- the Houston line is from the film Apollo 13, which is based off of an actual incident that occurred during the real Apollo 13 spacecraft's flight to the moon.  
*The penny left in the rain is in fact a corroding, or oxidized, penny...meaning it is truly brown, green, and blue. The comparison to the eye is literal in multiple ways.
*Major Tom is a song reference to David Bowie's Major Tom (Coming Home) in which Tom, a ficticious astronaut, is cut-off from all contact and trapped adrift in space. Look up the lyrics, it'll make you cry.
Zemyachis Oct 2012
by Ashley Capps

Ophelia, when she died,
lay in the water like the river’s bride, all pale
and stark and beautiful against the somber rocks,
her hair an endless golden ceremony.
She made the water sing for her; it flowed
over her folded arms.

Not so my father’s sister Karen,
swollen in a day-old tub of water
when they found her,
needle tucked into the fold of her arm,
her last thing: a wing.

So everything went as nameless as the men
who lifted her naked from the tub,
or those who rolled her
into the mouth of the furnace,
which is what you get
when you don’t get a service,
when your mother’s years of grief turn
last to rage: I won’t pay for it.
Leave me out of it.

And even though they finally said
it wasn’t suicide; a mistake—
no one knew what to do
with all of that anger,
or in the end how not to blame her.

Even now, in her unmarked container.

*


People once believed a deeper reason, some dark secret
motivation to the way the lemmings threw themselves
en masse into the sea. Were they weary
of their lives; could they, too, despair?
Or like those second-vessel swine
when Jesus exorcised two babbling men of their demons,
driving the demons through a pack of bewildered hogs—
the way they plunged?

The truth we know now: they leave when food is scarce,
when they’ve grown too many;
believe the roads they follow
lead to new meadows, a place to start over.

I think of Karen, feeding
and feeding her veins, how it is possible
she saw us all suddenly there—miraculous
and festive on some bright and other shore,
like the life she had been swimming toward
all along, trying to get right.
Like those sailors long ago,
that tropical disease, calenture—
when, far from everything they knew,
men grew sometimes delirious
and mistook the waving sea for green fields.
Rejoicing, they leapt overboard,
and so were lost forever,
even though they thought it was real, though
they thought they were going home.

—by Ashley Capps
Oct 2012 · 1.0k
if i had the world for me
Zemyachis Oct 2012
if i had the world for me
i would waste away with poetry
and study not a single thing
that sounded with a hollow ring

i would not care to take advice
or think about the odds of life
no tiptoe tiptoe in a dance
followed by glist'ng eyes askance

no not for me and all that jazz
id rather run and be a spaz
for what do people mean to me
otherthan self-claimed royalty

so i jest and run and play
for today and yesterday
yes is shameful lets have tea
me and me so selfishly

10/11/12
Oct 2012 · 1.4k
Well of Ink.
Zemyachis Oct 2012
My heart is a well of ink.
The deeper you reach, the farther you sink.
And all it seems is black
                                     black
                                         black.

But the sky is so soft and pink.
Take me down to the ice skating rink
And all I ask is hold me back
                                               back
                                                   back.

Look,
My heart sticks yours like
black, black tar...
pink bubble gum

10/6/12
Oct 2012 · 1.3k
Elegy for Ariel
Zemyachis Oct 2012
We first met at the fair...

Our eyes locked, we were the perfect pair
Ariel, the mumbling movement of your lips
Drew me, gently, to your side.

My adoration I could not hide,
You made my heart do flips.

Until that sad, sad-sorry day
On the water's edge you lay,
So peaceful, and so frail-

I picked up all the shattered glass
Who knew our story would so soon pass?
A tragic end, to our sweet tale

Watching you float away with the tide,
My beautiful goldfish, had sadly died

They say there's so many fish in the sea
But you're the only one for me


October 5, 2012 with Sarah, Gabbi, Madeline in Introduction to Literary Analysis
Zemyachis Sep 2012
They Don't Shut Up.
fwit. fwit. fwit. fwit.
On the Asphalt or Sidewalk
They slip- like spit
I lost my flip-flops
they Tread
So thin.

9/26/12
Zemyachis Sep 2012
AColdblueSnowman
Raises a blow-dryer
Commits Suicide

9/26/12
Sep 2012 · 1.8k
Knowing You
Zemyachis Sep 2012
I don't really know you, not at all
Forgive me if I am too hasty to hope,
But you remind me of someone
That I've never met

It bothers me sometimes,
The way you turn your head
So slightly against the sun

I've seen that before.

I just want to get you alone, shake you and demand answers.
Who are you?
What are you thinking?
Where did you come from?
Why are you here?

But I can't, for fear that you would look at me and think,
"Who wants to know."

It's me! I'd say. The girl with orchids in her hair.
Who rode the train with you to the end of the line, and fell into the lake.
Who you grew up with in your own hometown, and who always ate the crackers you didn't like.
Who sat in a tree and held your hand till it got dark.
And whispered that she loved you.
And would like to marry you someday.

And then you'd turn, like you'd never seen me before
And say, "I never knew you."
And the worst part is, you're right.

Then why, why do I remember YOU,
The one who visits my dreams at night.


9/15/12
Sep 2012 · 1.3k
Ecclesiastes
Zemyachis Sep 2012
There is beauty in brevity,
Fascination in the flawed.
In between the passage lines,
The answers may be broad.

Time may wink with sleight of hand
Parting, sifting, streams of sand,
And leave us not a grain to cleave
But to the wind and vanity

The Preacher looks out past the sea
Into placid mystery
And knows not the depths of emptiness
that caress the soul with gentleness

Yet steps out in the vast, clear space
Arms outstreached in lost embrace
To sink into the glassy pool;
Walk the floor of siren's song

And be they both lost together
in melodious cacophony
the cavernous, echoing chimes
of overlapping waves.

9/14/12
Jul 2012 · 675
Unguarded
Zemyachis Jul 2012
Strange
      dreams develop (dark to vibrant)
                  film strip stripes of
                                   run
                                       ning
                                              water

                                 nt
                             ou   ai
in the v     y  of m          ns----
            alle
                                                        to whet
                                                            the faucet

                                            of
                                            my
                                            lips
                                  
unbidden
   falling---
                       chatter,
                            secrets,
                                  mercies,

Like discarded jewels,
mumbled in half sleep.

7/4/12
Jul 2012 · 1.5k
An Ember
Zemyachis Jul 2012
On a snow blown day
In the month of December
We gather 'round fires
And watch every ember
Listen, my child
To the old, true tale
Of how we have help
Whenever we fail

"Shepherds were watching
Their flocks by night
Wisemen did follow
A star so bright
A mother and her baby snug up so tight"
Foiled the greed of the world
With that one spark of light

08/12/2010 and earlier
Jul 2012 · 660
On Whom I Count
Zemyachis Jul 2012
He knows the number of hairs on my head, and
Of the bright stars, each with a name such as Fred

He knows the history of each grain of sand
The liters in the sea today were already planned

And He knows how many times I have had a crush
He knows every secret, and every blush

He understands everybody, down to each little thought
The griefs that they suffer, the wars that are fought

He records every laugh and the width of each smile
He knows all my steps, yes, every mile

You name a thing, God knows the amount
My biggest point--- God sure can count.
2010
Jul 2012 · 5.9k
Personal Superhero
Zemyachis Jul 2012
I'm your personal superhero
Who fights crime each day
I patrol outside and watch the house
While you are away

I'll cheer you up when the day is grey
Get you up, and out to play

When days get mundane, lonely too
I'll be there to be with you

I may not wear a cape or tights
But I will still help fight your fights

If you're in trouble and lose you way
I'm made to guide, to wait, to stay

Then when the sun has gone down
I'll make sure you never frown

'cuz I'm your personal superhero ---
Your ever fluffy, one of a kind,
loyal and tail wagging dog
2010
Jul 2012 · 625
Outside
Zemyachis Jul 2012
I want to go outside today
So I can feel the sun
To feel the wind blow stronger still
To go out and just run

I want to reach the blue cloth sky
To touch dew laden seam
I want to cross the old, grey stones
Which sparkle in the stream

I want white snow to dazzle down
To land right in my way
I want trees to grow, green to orange
Let leaves drift where they may

The caged bird was my company
But with its wings has flown
Its sole presence, now free again
Left me to sit alone

Dear sun, come through my window
Bright rays beam on my route
Ive opened up the door, so there!
Now I am going out!
2012
Jul 2012 · 1.3k
Tyger
Zemyachis Jul 2012
Tyger, Tyger,
            burning bright
Like a lantern in the night
Who prowls slowly in the dark
Leaving not a single mark
He growls gently in the deep
Sighs to entertain some sleep
Shape and silhouette undefined
But are doubtless in my mind
To belong to that one creature
With strip-ed face and whiskered feature
Eyes that pulse and glow untold
Simmering with melted gold
As they stare and scrutinize
From mighty haunches he does rise
His massive paws and gleaming teeth
His dark lips will soon unsheathe
Like gleaming daggers polished white
Smiling bold in deep delight
Of finding company this late hour
Some small snack soon to devour
His body tense with animation,
Tail flickering with agitation
A coiled trap that’s set to spring
With a jolt and sudden fling
He jumps and runs past in a slur
Former countenance in a blur
Sprinting round with crazed emotion
Faster he spins in frenzied motion
‘Till the Tyger seems to vanish
As if some unseen force did banish
And all that remains is golden honey
Smooth and sweet, the color sunny
I gasp at this mysterious change
A curious sight, awing and strange
I ponder, profound in meditation
Wondering of next morning’s salutation
If this is all that it will take…
To drizzle on my next pancake
02/08/11
Jul 2012 · 3.1k
Sentimental
Zemyachis Jul 2012
I wept seven tears
That I caught in my hand
Threw them up in the air
And now there they stand
Shimmering and sparkling, as fine in the sky
As they ever could have, inside of my eye
Jul 2012 · 853
Halloween
Zemyachis Jul 2012
When days turn cold, and the wind has bite
When trees turn gold, and their leaves take flight
When jack-o-lanterns flicker and glow
And black cats slink wherever they go
When tiny children roam the street---
Faeries; ghouls, with candy sweet
When bats and skeletons hang outside
And cobwebs are a thing of pride
A rattle of chains, the clatter of bones
A spooky tune, with desperate moans
Then canine howls fill the air
And a full moon with icy stare
Looks curiously down at such a fright
As always comes on Halloween night
10/of some day/of some year around 09
Jul 2012 · 6.1k
VII To whom it may concern,
Zemyachis Jul 2012
Oh! Remember that time with the guy in the place?
He had a blue jacket, the one with the face?
We were walking some street, on a simple quest,
To find chicken nuggets, and a place to rest
We had just watched a tape, oh what was it called?
The guy had blond hair or brown? Or, was he bald?
People were jamming around the subway station
I wish I could remember, **** conflagration!

Or that other time, when we tried to surprise,
But clever you would already surmise
And we searched every crevice, of that jungle-y zoo
While lil’ wandering kinds came up to you
Because you had a cool t-shirt and we did not
I shall always remember that very spot.

Or that average day, specifics I’ll not say
That we were doing some papier-mâché
And days, or weeks, or months, or later
When, you had a dream about an alligator
(it was actually a crocodile)

I brought you a present, ever so small
And with a knife, shiny and tall
We designed a marvelous work of art
Who could imagine that it would explode apart?

Or that other afternoon, we spent in the prickers
Jumping over annoying brown stickers
And tossing around a-- , I’ll say no more
Who would care, we weren’t keeping score
As red, yellow, orange were falling from above
Because we made them with a shove
And bagels and comics were lying around
As TV commercials played in the background

Hey, remember those times when we were so little
At the front desk, my head came up to the middle
When there were only “original” Pokémon
And you had a different house and lawn
I miss our games of trust, they were lots of fun
When all that we did was laugh and run

I remember drinking tea in the outside air
And sitting in a big red van praying for God us to spare
I recall “Sand” and flairs and quote
As we were digging our pirate moat
I enjoy our profound discussions and your denial
Of us doing anything but homework, while
We **** each other in the asphalt road at night
Act ridiculous in all the sight
Of people at Food Max, and you are jealous
Of old guys jogging, what befell us?

When Catherine is dancing with Russians and hasn’t energy to type
I will mumble under my breath and force her to skype
I know we both suffer without her sarcasm, bright
Your melodious tone is absent where you guys used to fight
Ah! Fond remembrance of backstage flashes
Of hairspray stiff wigs, sticky floors, and sweat on mustaches

Some day we will look back on all we have done
And think of each smile, each day under the sun
We’ll tell horrid stories to all of our kids
Of hiking through snow, eating rocks and some twigs

Somewhere, in that place, where there is no time,
There still is no Starbucks to spend our dime
But I think that now will be better than then
If we only can forget the “how” and “when”

There is no one but God who gets you and me
For who would subscribe to our philosophy
As we laugh half an hour over a crime just planned
Or a stupid movie that we watch “On Demand”
I think to myself, as red eyes fill with pus
That no one else thinks quite like us.
11/13/10
Zemyachis Jul 2012
If all the trees made paper,
And all the oceans ink
How long would it take
For a paper boat to sink?

If you took all of the sand,
And made an hourglass
How long would it take
For all that sand to pass?

If the sand was from the eyes,
Of sleeping dreamers far away
How many stories would it take
For night to turn to day?

So I'm on a paper boat,
Sailing in a sea of ink
Looking at an hourglass
And wond'rin if I'll sink.

The ink bleeds through the paper,
But I am not afraid.
For I can see, in my dreams
The stories we have made

I'll sail until the hourglass
Is all run out of time
Then I'll wake up from my dream
Before the sun begins to shine.

9/10+23/09
Jul 2012 · 895
Stuck in the Glass
Zemyachis Jul 2012
I saw a glass swan
Sitting on a glass lake
A step on that glass
My legs would quake

One look down,
I made the connection
What I saw
Was my own reflection

It was icy December
The snow was a' drifting
A solid ice layer,
The water was lifting

I turned 'round the swan
A beauty to see
All covered with ice
And frozen debris

A clue to the tale
Any detective would wonder
Subtle hints at design
A story was under

In that layer of ice
Two webbed feet in a vice

Glassy eyes admiring
A lovely swan's face
His own vain image,
This was the case

A sad lonely picture
Somber and Grey
So this was the price
That he had to pay

So much looking
Into the mirror
He wasted his life
Not seeing clearer
7/17/10
Jul 2012 · 3.3k
Sugar & Spice
Zemyachis Jul 2012
There’s a place, where licorice vines have climbed,
Deep in the night, that only children can find;
Where leaves of waxed paper on trees are hung,
And what grows on the branches is sweet to the tongue.
Garlands of butterscotch, chocolate, and mint,
In their bright wrappers, sparkle, and glint;
Bubbling springs of sarsaparilla, through the valley are poured,
Washing sugar beaches with reeds of sour chord.
Swedish fish swim in soda geysers with bliss,
While fizzing pop-rocks spurt, spittle, and hiss.
Sunset clouds of cotton candy sweep past in the sky;
Trees sway in the delicious breeze that smells like apple pie.
Skies will rain down skittles, when there is a storm,
Pelting molasses window panes in a giant swarm;
Sour gummi worms are dug up, free to take,
In the grainy, nutmeg layers of the coffee cake.
Carmel creams, Mary Janes, Black Jacks, and Almond Joys,
Coconutties, Jawbreakers, Carmel Rolos and Long Boys--
All these grow, in lines straight as peppermint sticks,
Planted in brown sugar, on fields of cinnamon toothpicks;
But when the sun lets out its first ray,
The entire land just melts away
And children don’t remember where they’ve been,
That whole night asleep, but they wake with a grin;
And through the whole day, their dreams will entice,
Until they visit again, the Land of Sugar and Spice.
8/9/11

— The End —