I revel in the storm.
Falling into the depths of the clouds' cathedral
The rocketing rain fills my eyes, my ears.
Lightening streaks across the sky
illuminating the hills and hollows
of the great gray mass
that is the storm bank,
awful and beautiful,
terrifyingly lovely.
Thunder follows, a symphony of crashes to give dimension to the scene
as if some godly composer has seen the painted sky
and imagined from it
a song of rolls and bangs.
The rain still pours down
bringing life and flood from the heavens
to earth.
Its clatters and rushings combine with the thunder's song
to fill my ears
with magic.
My eyes cannot bear the wonder of the storm,
yet I cannot turn away.
I am
consumed
obsessed
frenetic
with the insanity and beauty
of the summer storm.
And when it is gone,
I will never be the same.

Thank you for all you do
You took care of me since before I was two.
You raised me well, you’re an exceptional human
Now thanks to you I’ve become quite a woman.
I look to you for guidance and love
And receive it all without a grudge.
I hope this little book will remind you all the time
Of the memories we had, and all the more to come.
As I grow up, I won’t leave you behind
You’ll be forever in my mind.
When I’m in college, I’ll let you know
How life on campus seems to go
And when I’m grown and have a house of my own
You can come and visit as if it were your home.
I love you, Grandma, I hope you know
And that feeling will never go
Away or fade.
You’ll forever be my wonderful
Grandmother.

Houses fallen into ruin
Roads into disrepair;
Lawns and gardens grown up around them
I wonder who lived there.

In this house, once so white and fair,
A girl named Jill did live.
She played with her dolls on this very hill,
And tea and cakes to them did give.

On to the brick house, dark and hidden
In here Sam grew up tall.
He dug little moats and unraveled his mittens
As the leaves began to fall.

And now we come upon a little gray home
With pretty-painted shutters of blue
In this sweet house were I and my sisters;
Here in the yard, the flowers we grew.

But now, some years later, we’ve come back to find
Our childhood houses
Broken and undefined;
The roads nearby, unused.

Could it be that these poor houses
Once so neat and new
Could not bear the thought
Of being home to anyone but me and you?

So now, look back quick
We are leaving soon
After a move away, who can say
What will happen to these houses soon?

Blood
Sticky red viscous
Dripping glazing my arm
Coursing up and out of my veins
The dark threads of life
That run through my ever paler skin.
Out onto the blade the red pours
Into the air where madness resides
The beasts coalesce and cling to
My open wound
Infecting injecting their poison
Infiltrating my body
Causing havoc and disease
They reach my brain
Even after my arm has stopped
Pumping sticky red blood onto the carpet
Long after it has dried matted
Turned black and green with plague.
In my mind they wander
Pulling files and disrupting order
Half-forgotten dreams resurface
Childhood memories
Glimpses of the past, the future
Swirl in a haze of fever.
My eyes see nothing of the real world
My senses deadened
Nothing but bits of another life
Attacking and destroying me
Hallucinations beautiful and terrifying horrific awful
These dark invaders of the mind.