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when the grass has grown old,
and the body lays cold in the browning wheat,
the evening tears have fallen leaving diamond traces,
a nightingale sings a somber song, it sounds like a maiden weeping,
and like the ghost of the wind
I lay in the wheat field
 May 2011 Max Petersen
Snow Child
I lay still
Flesh on ice
Bones are chilled

It's my price
For trying to
Be born again

I stole stars
Made the moon mine
Put their light in jars

I was divine
I drank the light
That I'd sealed within

And so I began
My second life
With an eternal glow

As my heart beats
The lights pulse
 In Morse code
          
But the sun mourned
All her daughter stars
And her son the moon

See their souls
Were within the light
That I'd consumed

"You must pay"
Said the goddess sun
To my illuminated self
        
"I'm taking your soul"
 My warm tears were
 The last thing I felt

So now I lay
In the cold snow
With an unfixed gaze

I am a wraith
Who sees only dark
Even in the day
Crusted dirt lingers beneath my nails,
Against its bed of cracked skin,
They tell of stories we never could have known,
Let alone,
Familiar faces and places keep my dreary eyes
and mind,
Behind my hidden wall,
Behind the one who's too scared to fall.

The paths have been taken,
And your breath is mistaken,
--You're worried,
and I'm scared,
Left shaking.

The stories old, it's hard to tell,
Too soon to gain composure,
Too soon to get up and leave my shell.

Once there were legs bound,
and once there was a smile,
Forced to give up the frown.

If you believe that I am complicated,
Then you must not know a thing at all,
For this could have waited,
And the storm could have killed us all.

Endlessly dreaming
Inferior to everyday thoughts,
Your silence is screaming,
Your voiceless soul,
carries your cross.

We'll begin to worry,
when your lips take shape,
of loud voices we know,
blinded by a world that hates.

Monstrous serenity,
The music floats off the tip of my tongue,
Between each ear,  almost effortlessly,
The tune twists and turns
(This song cannot be left unsung).

Faint whispers you once mouthed,
Between the cracks and folds of each ear,
Melodies I used to love,
Have morphed into troubling fear.

The murky pond that rests,
Where I stand ankle-deep,
Haunted times this night,
Memories, they seek.

I searched my soul to find you,
I gave my heart to discover,
I left my words up to the sky,
My head made me uncover,


YOU.

This disastrous scene,
You left me with,
Euphoria in Novocaine,
The disaster eating the vicinity.

And yet, I still yearn for you.

No longer can I continue to breathe,
hoping you'll pass my way,
For now my nail beds remain stained,
Like the mattress we shared that fateful day.
 Apr 2011 Max Petersen
Snow Child
Blue-Black lining white on a cold night
Dancing silhouettes in the moonlit snow
Eyes strain to see through the cold
The ground must be their stage
The man moves closer
Beautiful creatures emerge
The dancers of the night
The breathing slows, the dancers pause.
The man watches as dark figures approach
The spectacle is not meant for seeing eyes
The man is cold and calls them closer
He grows tired of his blanket of snow
"I beg of you visions, ease my pain"
The visions sway-
A brilliant dance begins
The man watches and smiles
Filled with the warmth of a rising sun
And yet the breathing stops
The night is still dark
More black than blue
And it is cold
An unforgiving cold
 Apr 2011 Max Petersen
Snow Child
When I was young
I misplaced Trust
Mistook Titles for Worthiness
Which left me helpless

I wandered aimlessly
In search of Nobility.
My soles blackened
My eyes grew tired,
I looked to you for rest,
Instead you took what I refused to give.

My journey continues.
My soul is mending.

My blackened feet grew to steel.
I stand strong.
You will not knock me down again.
 Apr 2011 Max Petersen
Grace L
before the deadline passes, and it's too late
what makes ME the ideal candidate?
must orchestrate a thousand word song
conveying my skills and awards that make me strong

i assemble my troops
arrange my activities, my groups
compose my unparalleled traits
so beautifully it narrates

but with every question i've read
listing every team i've lead
with every box i fill in
about things i seek thrill in

the less i want this position
the less impressive my ammunition
the shots i fire
are empty shells aimed at anyone who'll hire

but what i'd really rather do
than fill out forms for God knows who
is write a line of poetry
that describes my apathy perfectly
 Apr 2011 Max Petersen
Becky
she was sophisticated and cultured, but you,
you made her naive.
in the same fashion,
you stripped her of her innocence,
and she became a mouse lost in a maze.

this aroma is intoxicating
making her thoughts clouded.
she knew it was wrong.
she knew it wouldn't work.
she knew it would leave her empty.
but yet she let the walls of the sand castle
crumble from these crashing waves.

your glass of deception is half-full,
but a haze of hesitation and obscurity is released
as the glass shatters to the floor.
it is leaving you dry.
it is leaving her faded.
you are the kid with the magnifying glass,
and she is neglected like your childhood teddy bear.

but she will accept these roles in the play,
fully aware that this is the director's finest.
and she will exit stage left
while you grace the center
and receive a standing ovation.
Into the furnace let me go alone;
Stay you without in terror of the heat.
I will go naked in--for thus ''tis sweet--
Into the weird depths of the hottest zone.
I will not quiver in the frailest bone,
You will not note a flicker of defeat;
My heart shall tremble not its fate to meet,
My mouth give utterance to any moan.
The yawning oven spits forth fiery spears;
Red aspish tongues shout wordlessly my name.
Desire destroys, consumes my mortal fears,
Transforming me into a shape of flame.
I will come out, back to your world of tears,
A stronger soul within a finer frame.
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