Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Forbidden
the fruits of all evil
the root of all evil
A deep shadow cast
within the garden
of Eden, my past
I cannot forget
I will not last
Forbidden
Was I?
From living a life free of lies
Of unfocused feelings
focusing on my cries
Why? Why? Why?
What have I done?
A forbidden fruit
in the garden of Eden
Where the root of all evil
Grows and grows
until every apple has been eaten
© 2013 Christina Jackson
Dangling on the thread of the tip of a needle, I wait.
Patiently to be woven into a warm embrace
There the thread hangs between the pendulum and the base, I wait.
Patiently to be swung in the right way
© 2013 Christina Jackson
Beyond the strokes of time
awaits a mystery far too great
for human kind to currently relate

The grains in the hourglass are speaking to me
They're reciting a wondrous story
Each and every grain withholds its own destiny
A mystifying glimpse of distant miseries

If you listen, you will not hear
Once you feel, the grains of sand
magically become a reel
Through the shutters of time
a blurry vision appears

If you search, you will not find
Once you listen, its rhymes will unwind
Within the compass of time
hides a secret only the divine have been able to rewind

So join me my friend
On this never ending ride
I should like to warn you though
the end is always the same as the beginning
© 2013 Christina Jackson
I hear the tick
and the click
and the beat of the drum

the sound of thudding
within my ear drums

It beats loudly
as the music strums
Softly and slowly
your voice hums

a beautiful tune

I must have assumed
that beautiful tune
was your heart beat
making music for me

You must have been amused

Now all the chords have been broken
The violin plays the saddest song tonight
Forever entwined within the notes
radiating from your subtle lies

This is the part in the chorus
where I fall to my knees
and plea for a different reprise

Kindly ask my heart
for the sense and sensibility
To start a new life

Those masterful musical notes
you wrote, are deeply embedded
Within a monstrosity of tangled
windpipes and heart valves
© 2013 Christina Jackson
A lonely wistful embrace
on the days I remember
peering up at that chiseled face
A dashing fellow masked in disguise
Hidden beneath a beautiful surface
Wrapped within a tangled web of ghastly lies
I gazed long into the mirror and wondered why
Too many nights I laid on the pavement, waiting for my demise
Looking up at the vast and empty skies
Cluttered by clouds and all the city lights
I didn't understand why you were doing this, I didn't know why
You used to tell me this story, while your eyes focused in on my thighs
An unsettling feeling would succumb in my stomach, like a plunging knife
Your words cut thick, through the withered skin I once called my life
I learned how to live without the shackles of your inner strife
Do not mistake me for being weak, I was never yours to truly keep
Like a prized possession on a shelf, only to be taken out when your own monsters became
too much for you to dwell
Your future is bleak, filled with all the false promises you'll never keep
I hope you're happy locked inside of your cage
Where no one can reach you and feel the wrath of your rage
When you come of age and times get weary
Remember me, and remember my furry
You are nothing but a demon
trapped inside of a body
slowly rotting you with its venom
And when your clock stops ticking
you'll finally know what it's like to have your happy ending
© 2013 Christina Jackson
I used to be able to write
endlessly for days
but not anymore
I've got nothing to say

I don't know what happened
To the never ending thread that kept on giving

It was cut somewhere
between yesterday, and the beginning
I don't know what happened
I've always got something to say

Am I tangled in a web; with the master and the mistress?
It seems I have forgotten
All the words to every poem I've ever written

A clear vision so gracefully in site
As if the heavens reached down
and connected the earth, to sky

I often wonder why words
exist in the first place

They get confused with other words
Misinterpreted
For something they never were to begin with

I don't know what happened
Writing is the oxygen that flows from within
I'd have absolutely nothing
if writing wasn't the blood pumping through my veins
Keeping me alive, each and everyday
© 2013 Christina Jackson
May your dreams be everything you ever dreamed them to be
Drift off into a slumber of sweet visions and fantasies
Think of me, when you lay your head down to sleep
I'm a lullaby, whispering as you nod off...
Just dream

© 2013 Christina Jackson
Next page