Taurus, bull goddess, strong and proud.
Sometimes lazy, quite often loud.
Mother, protector, stubborn as hell.
Obstinate, difficult, but meaning well.
She sharpens her horns on whoever comes near
And more than her horns, it’s her mouth you should fear.
Creature of earth, Taurus woman is strong.
Won’t let you forget that she’s never wrong.
She’ll love you forever, loyal ‘till death.
She’ll defend you fiercely, give her last breath.
If you love one be thankful, she’ll not let you fall.
She’s Taurus, proud mother, and she’s standing tall.

Sombre, pensive, disquietude
Disconnected, subtle, lewd
All emotions rolling 'round
Shattered glass on holy ground

Silver lining made of stone
Face of darkness set alone
Wings of sulphur, ashen down
Butterflies stitched in her gown

Queen of sacrilegious lies
Blood and fire stain black eyes
Lips like poison, dripping lust
Serpent tongue that whispers trust

Silken skin of granite gray
Sparkles stone when in the day
Prehensile tail and wicked strength
Ebony hair of staggered length

**** woman of the night
Seeking prey and seeking fight
Lay you down on holy stone
Death by *** though not alone

When her eyes light on your skin
Flames of lust lick up and in
Against her charms you've not a chance
So open wide and join her dance

Hundreds, no thousands
Regardless, a crowd
Pulsating, flowing
So achingly loud
Ripples against me
So close to my skin
Coming apart now
I’m screaming within
Obviously many
I’m never alone
So very lonely
It chills to the bone
Speak, hearing echoes
Reflect from white walls
Stretch to forever
Like long empty halls
Mouth may be moving
I know I’ve made sound
Nobody hears me
There’s no one around.

Hurt is such a vacant word anymore, cuz I can't feel a thing.
Angry at myself, I hack at my skin hoping somehow
That what I find underneath will be something that
Even I can love.

My eyes envision a blackened wood
Where my heart longs to roam.
A shudder wracks my supple frame
And I long for it, my home.
Paws flex slowly on slivered glass
As I follow this trail to the end.
The howls of my pack dance on the rain
And my spirit begins to mend.
Blood soaks the night, I slip sinew and bone
While shedding this frail human skin.
I scream to the moon, my Mother above
And signal the hunt to begin.

Lust is the study of dance and retreat
      The chase and the beat
Where souls move together, collide and complete....

And musicality crawls through our skin
      So transparent and thin
Like the breath of a kiss that has yet to begin.....

Just like the thunderous beat from the drum
      We pulsate and come
Apart at the seams like your cat's got my tongue.....

The music fades down so the silence can start
    It's own form of art
          And all that remains....
                All that remains.....
Is the stone steady beat of my percussive heart.

Strange how a scent can remind me of tears,
of sorrow, of love, of long-passed-by years.
It stirs up my memories, bitter yet sweet,
like dancing with shadows; move forward, retreat.
The bright trumpet flower with sugary dew
is scented so utterly, totally You.
It's the smell of remembrance, dusted with love.
A subtle reminder you're somewhere above,
and should it, by virtue of wind, float on by
you might see a tear or two flee from my eye.

Devoid of all things, I am numb to the center of my being
Eloquence, spider webs, elegant poison drips from my tongue
Speeding through my veins to trip up the heart
Once more, I find myself broken and bleeding
Lying on the cold marble floor, skirt up, hair down
Angry, crying, mascara streaked down ***** cheeks
The temptation of the bottle too close to turn away
I am nothing without my soul, and that’s long gone now
Only the shell remains, and she’s got a cold shoulder to the world
Nothing much matters anymore, but the darkness and I

Of this much I’m sure, love’s a *****, boys.
**** her before she ***** you.

They’ll carry you to your grave, broken, and battered
Heart stitched shut, riddled with bullet holes and
Engraved upon it will be little scratch marks for every heart broken.

Hell hath no fury, and Love doesn’t forgive, or forget.
Ever. She keeps a scorecard, and she’s got your name on a target
All we can hope for is that she’ll take pity on our souls. Maybe
Remember that she has a heart too. I doubt it.
The most we can believe in is ourselves.

You strand yourself on an empty beach;
Food, water, or wine you cannot reach.
You starve yourself, you’re beyond speech.
You bore yourself, you’ve no one to teach.

The tears run down your sunburned face.
You tear at your hair, a basket case.
You’re inconsequential in this space,
Despite your fine breeding, despite your grace.

You amuse yourself with mixed up lore.
You laugh at your wit like it’s no small chore.
You don’t have enough and you want more,
But your eyes are wet and your brain is sore.

You swear that you aren’t the one that’s insane.
But you’re begging for water while drowning in rain.
Your record is skipping, you’re stuck on your pain..pain…pain…pain
As you sit on the sand, counting each grain.

Gentle? Who me?
Even the simplest of the lambs
Now realizes  that I'm no angel.
To be sure, I've made my fair share of mistakes.
Like when I kissed you that night.
Even the stars stood still for that.

Nightly I wrapped myself in your arms.
I the young innocent, you the lion tamer.
Gods, we were so pure.
How can you ever expect things to be better.
Too late we realized our mistake.

Love believes in no one, I think
Only in those who believe in it.
Very stubborn, this thing called love.
Even lambs feel the sting of arrows.

So true to my heart I frolic
Eventually down that shoddy shifty road.
Exacting my revenge on relationships
Showing that I'm the boss by falling in love again.

And for that last second, I breathe you in.
Lover, wrapped in my arms and I'll not let you go.
Love can't you hear me, I'm not ready yet.

Gentle night, love sees all.

I remember what you're going through.
It hasn't slipped my mind.
All the days and nights of struggling.
All the jerks who were unkind.
The screaming of your parents and
their apathy, your tears.
The constant wear and tear that makes you
older than your years.
You see the scars I'm carrying
upon my heart and skin.
I've made the same mistakes before.
You just can't let them win.
So get lost inside your music,
crank those speakers loud,
lift your black-rimmed eyes and snarl.
Wear your scars, be proud!
I'll be here to wipe your tears and
hold your tired hand.
Just remember little sister
some adults do understand.

The birds are circling overhead;
they see what I cannot.
Their God’s-eye view grants them leave
to see what men have wrought.

Although we seem to grow and change,
and “civilization” spreads like disease,
the eyes of starving children proclaim
that self-interest’s  the god we appease.

We rage against any injustice
by loudly shaking our fists.
Alas, when it’s action that’s needed
most disappear in the mists.

And so the birds keep circling,
watching where people cannot.
Their God’s-eye view grants them leave
to see what men have wrought.

I don’t cry often but when I do it’s torrential.
It’s often something you said, or did…
because no one in this world can make me cry quite like you.
The words came out of your mouth so harsh
and I felt like my soul just shriveled and shrank away.
I asked you to leave before I cried,
I didn't want you seeing my tears.
My gold green eyes welled up with oceans of pain.
You stood there stubbornly, as though you could fix it.
“Go” I sobbed…begging you to give me a moment
let me fix myself…let me pull the pieces back together
at least leave me my dignity.
You walked away, shoulders slumped as if I had hurt you
Or as though you were worried for me…
Don’t worry though…
As you said, I’m flighty, I get bored easy
I’ll be over it tomorrow…
Sometimes it amazes me how little you know me.

Why can't you see you're beautiful?
You take my breath away.
Your eyes swirl colors like the sea
some blue, some green, some gray.

When you anger they shift dark
just like the perfect storm.
I often linger in your eyes
devoid of weight or form.

The clouds are jealous of your skin,
it's texture soft and fine.
Your smile can make flowers bloom,
so like the sun it shines.

Your hourglass has perfect curves,
I've memorized each one.
I know you think you've got too much,
but that idea I shun.

I know you hate the way that age
has changed your hair from fawn
to the gentle sweep of angel white,
like feathers from a swan.

It frames your face creating clouds
to sweep your ocean eyes,
and all I see when I see you
is perfect love's disguise.

All our actions, good or bad
are weighed upon the scale;
And winged creatures turn the wheel
‘round thrice behind the veil.
So whether it be deed or thought,
beware your choices made.
For when the wheel turns back for thirds
then all your debts be paid.

Dark time in my wooded home
And starlight dots the skies
Mother moon hangs pregnant high
She sparkles in my eyes
The dewy breeze licks my fur
Like tongues through ginger tea
And creatures not yet wrapped in sleep
Play twilight reverie
Though my paws have traveled far
They always bring me home
My muzzle may be gray with age
But steel still backs each bone
I will roam these sacred lands
So long as there are trees
My joyful howls like ebbing tides
will sing down stars and seas.

I’m not anyone’s idea of Cinderella.
Sadly, I won’t be attending the ball.
My slippers aren’t glass, and no one will ask
for my hand in this grand entrance hall.  

My lips aren’t blood, and my skin is not snow
No dwarves do I have, let alone seven.
There’s no evil Queen to lock me in sleep,
no Prince to redeem me from Heaven.  

I don’t have gold locks, a tower length long.
No witch keeps me locked here beside her.
No spindle pricked fingers, nor dragons on guard.
Nothing special this night will occur.

I’m alone in this world, no Prince of my own.
No one waiting to kiss these lips lightly.  
There’s no dashing great steed, no gallant deed.
Sadly, no more men who act knightly.

Hello?

There's echoes bouncing
off the clean white halls.
The needles are coming.
I'm climbing the walls.
The doors are all locked
but it's all in my head.
I can't get a line out,
the phones are all dead.

Hello?
Can you hear me?

Whenever I blink
I get blood in my eyes.
They say they are tears,
I say they are lies.
Your glittering sharpness
obsesses my heart.
They say that I'm bitter.
I say I'm a ****.

Hello?
I think it's dead.
No. The line.
It's dead.

I scream at the warden,
"*******! Let me out!"
But the warden is in ME,
and the warden is doubt.
The doors are all locked,
but it's all in my head.
I can't get a line out,
the phones are all dead.

Many days have passed since I was young.
As  a child, I was optimistic, pure, and loving.
Keen, curious, with a passion for making things better.
Everything could be shined over, cleaned, polished, loved.

I don't know anymore, where that child went,
Though often the cynical angry adult in me misses her.

But I face the facts that where I desire more than
Everything, or anything in the world to make it
That much better, and to heal the hearts of
Those lost that I love, I just can't do it anymore.
Everything I say seems hollow, fake, and horribly plastic.
Reality says that I just can't make it better anymore.

My muse committed suicide
three months ago at ten.
With her she took all my paper,
my pencils, and the pen.

I really need to resurrect her
or at least draw out her ghost,
cuz all my writing has begun to stink,
and it's smelling up the coast.

So anyone got a crystal ball?
A seance? or a clue??
On how to bring back baby muse?
I need her through and through...

I make no apologies for who I am,
I offer no hesitations.
I take what I need from the fat of the lamb
and give ewe no explanations.
My teeth gleam sharply and my bark is loud.
It echoes from hollow to glen.
I howl for my loved ones, solemn and proud,
and hold them all close in my Den.
I know Great Spirit smiles upon me
and teaches me songs of the Mother.
I carry Her blessings to all of my Kin,
a message of love to another.

This struggle of lovers blazes
forever in my heart.
Always wanting happiness
but only flames calm the smoke.
Cold reigns despite the heat of passion.
Consequence remains.
Fleeting, lilting songs surround us.
Love dances to the beat of drumming hearts
only to be gone again tomorrow.

Jesus, could it hurt a little more?
Underneath all the blues and blood and
Salt that licks at my battered and bleeding heart
There’s a pain I didn’t even know could exist.

Leave me alone in my silent screams of
Ever churning midnight cries, the sobs that wrack my body
Again and again, pulling forth misery and anger,
Vindictive rage and hopeless anguish
Even when I’m sleeping it doesn’t stop.

My dreams bleed with the memory of you
Echoes of what we were, what we had, what we could have been

Hurried runs through memories, trying desperately to erase you
Out of the corners of my aching brain
Somehow it never occurred to me that I could hurt so badly
That my chest would feel as though it was collapsing
I never believed love could take everything from me
Leave me alone with nothing but my ****** body, and
Even though I still love you, I need to be hostile right now.

A thousand rings on open lines
A thousand times I’d call
Left messages on old machines
But she deleted all

With open arms I’ve reached across
The miles many times
And had the door slammed in my face
For past supposed crimes

I’ve tried with logic and finesse
I’ve argued on and on
When logic failed I’ve cried and screamed
Until my voice was gone

I know you think you know me, Dad
But you could not be more wrong
Your puzzles missing pieces and
Your albums missing songs

The me you think you know so well
Is not reality
You don’t care, but you should know
I wish you wished you knew me

I drew a picture the other day.
My Mommy's heart was blue and gray.
Big blue tears fell all around,
tumbling to the soft green ground.
My Daddy handed her papers, white,
and then they had a bright red fight.
Screaming was heard around the block
nearly until 7 o'clock.
The dark brown door slammed so hard,
and Mommy ran out into the yard.
Daddy was gone, his car down the road.
Mommy sobbed, threw rings of gold.
I hid in my bed, rainbow covers pulled high,
while Mommy yelled at the pink and blue sky.
I drew a picture the other day.
My Mommy's heart was blue and gray.

I’m sure that she’s an angel,
Though I’ve never seen her wings.
She  hangs them in the closet
By the door with coats and things.

And she swears that she’s not special
As she laughs and shakes her hair
But to me she is salvation
And I need her like the air

I pretend that I believe her
And I don’t look for her wings
But I know they’re in the closet
With the coats and other things.

Oh what a weary heart have I,
as I watch my loved ones earthly lie.
And though I may long to lay me down
and freely relinquish my mortal crown
ever northward continues my gait
and I shuffle, rambling, toward that final state.

End Times

Rained blood in the city this morn.
It congealed in the back alleyways.
And the street corner prophets proclaimed
that now was the end of all days.

And then into town came the plagues
on swift paws of rats and their fleas,
and the street corner prophets themselves
succumbed to the mighty disease.

For God protects not the accusers
and glass always falls to tossed stones.
Death stalks the living intently
til naught will remain but dry bones.

They say End Time quickly approaches,
so Beware! For it comes with the dawn.
But we find once the day breaks upon us
that the world, just the same, still rolls on.

I lift my quill, prepared to write
My heart provides the well
The ink comprised of blood and tears
The parchment bone and spell
For if I do my duty right
Enchantment holds the key
My words will wrap you in my world
Make you a part of me
Attentive to each stroke of pen
My secrets now revealed
I hope my pain provides the path
For others to be healed

I stumbled into darkness,
head and heels into your well.
So unprepared and shaken,
heart enchanted by your spell.

I caved within the hour
to demands so soft and sweet.
And breath to breath, skin to skin,
I wait for hearts to meet.

But like a mirror's reflection
you were images and air.
You never jumped, never fell,
Were never really there.

Should they find me, years from now
oh the stories they will tell,
of how you left me broken
at the bottom of this well.

Mother, it's me.
I'm calling once more,
and here on your voice mail
my heart I will pour.

I'm lonely out here,
the world is so cold,
the people so selfish,
and I feel so old.

Mother, I'm calling.
Can I come back home?
I'm hungry, I'm tired,
I don't need to roam.

I ache in this place
that I once called my heart.
I feel like I'm splitting,
that I'm tearing apart.

Mother, I'm crying.
I'm broken, I'm done.
Please remember I love you
but I've run my last run.

Well Mother, I'm going.
There's no more to seek.
I think that I'll sleep now.
I'll call you next week.