I have sides to me as
Dark as the
Devil. I deal with
Demons like
Drugs;  

Always dropping
One, adopting
Another.
Don't dream of
Me. Keep the light
On.

My heart rooms
A thousand angels.
They love you as
One. Don't be blown
Too far away by the

Wind of their wings
Keeping my feelings
Afloat.

To be human is to be
The good kind of evil
Or opposite.

All shades, all colours,
Tutti Frutti; aeons of
Flavour.

All that matters
Is the honesty with
Which you embrace
Your own multitudes.

Both feet in Hell, head in
The Heavens,
One hand on either side
Of your heart; keeping
You safe from extremities.

You will cry. Oh, you'll
Cry, looking around
To see if anyone else
Has ever felt as loved,

As guarded.
Carried by angels,
Protected by demons,
Kept warm by the man
Who tamed them
All for
You.

I don't move,
I orbit.

I hopscotch the squares where love can be.
Where it has already been.
So,

I don't move [forward],
I orbit [to where I may belong]

I am homesick for everyone
I've ever met.

Most major decisions are based
on the statistic probability of a kiss,
because to be loved
is to be corporeal.

My heart doesn't guide me,
theirs do.

I follow my bloodlines
and shake the tree
for fruit.

This is how it goes:
With each breath I draw,
one for me
one for you.

We run from the rain,
Take shelter beneath buildings
And flimsy umbrellas
Afraid to get wet
As if the rain might wash that which is us
Down the street drains,
More sewage to be chemically treated
Before we pump it through the pipes
To shower over our heads
Safe this time as it is controlled by man
Nature's tears confined,
Man's nature defined.

I suppose you had me at "heeeey!",
But I'm still bouncing down the
Staircase of my own heart,  
One step at the time.

Your language is that of images.
Graphics. Oil on canvas. Interior
Design. Always knowing where
Something sits or hangs the most

Pleasing to the eye. I lean back with
Ink and infatuation, under only
Just enough light to write without
Being seen too clearly by keen eyes.

Two superheroes fighting the good
Fight. Saving days. Superpowered.
Telling the world how beautiful it is;
Mothering lovers loving like this.

If I run out of words, draw me another.
When your colours dry out, I will write
You of sunsets and stories,
Images and words go as hand in

Hand as our souls have since all eyes
Turned to the door through which
You floated, back straight, head
High, dotting the i

Of your beauty with a smile like a
Slap in the face of my well rehearsed
Image of 'calm and collected.'
Breaking the ice into crystals  

With one
Single
Word.   
"Heeeey!"

The morning sky waits
A skein of taffeta silk
Sewn to velvet hill.


Soul Survivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) March 26, 2014

All the while I am awake
At night contemplating
As my soul lays supine
Confounded by darkness
Waiting for spark to ignite
Doused by the long winter
Taking shelter in a cave
To keep myself warm
Unable to find my way out
My guide has left me here
Trying to find my way
In the prolonged darkness
Waiting for dawn within
To find my way home

gold keeps its colour
and its weight, in your pocket;
that's why we all are in the furnace,
of the gold seekers apocalypse