505

I would not paint—a picture—
I’d rather be the One
Its bright impossibility
To dwell—delicious—on—
And wonder how the fingers feel
Whose rare—celestial—stir—
Evokes so sweet a Torment—
Such sumptuous—Despair—

I would not talk, like Cornets—
I’d rather be the One
Raised softly to the Ceilings—
And out, and easy on—
Through Villages of Ether—
Myself endued Balloon
By but a lip of Metal—
The pier to my Pontoon—

Nor would I be a Poet—
It’s finer—own the Ear—
Enamored—impotent—content—
The License to revere,
A privilege so awful
What would the Dower be,
Had I the Art to stun myself
With Bolts of Melody!

Sitting in silence, in her gold gilded cage
Filled with wistful wonder
With doors left open, fears are assuaged
Neither bound nor torn asunder

Yet broken wings cannot take flight
Even if she chose to try
Alone in a cage with no one in sight
She can't sing, but silently cries

Born to be loved in deep adoration
Her heart, won over with words
Consumed to ash in conflagration
A bird with no song to be heard

I've been kissed by a razor
he leaves ***** red stains
he says he's only here to help me breathe,
to relieve
and I almost believe him
but all I ever feel is guilty and ashamed
I've been kissed by a razor on my thighs and shoulders
he's even nipped me on the wrists
I think he's daring to kiss me where others might witness
he whispers ***** words to me at night and sends tremors down my spine
he's trying to bite me and take me "home" for good
This razor, he finds me on rainy days, says he wants to take the pain away
This razor, he is not my friend
he's trying to take chunks out of my velvet skin
No, this razor is not my friend, but he says he can hush the anger inside my head
I've been kissed by a razor who promised happiness
I thought I'd let him just have a tiny taste,
but he didn't stop
and this place he called "home"
is only hell
I should've known.

The world doesn't feel real
Like a million of us could fit in a measuring cup
So make something good,
Something sweet.
All the odds and ends adding up to something,
Something that could be beautiful when it ends.
Even though I feel so lost,
I know I have it all together.
Little pieces like a puzzle,
I just can't figure out where they belong.
The wisdom will come to me,
I know it.
Through a cloud, the universe or age.
It'll all be alright.
Someone kiss me through the night.
While I hold a few bottles of wine in my young hands.
Someone hold me till I can think straight,
Someone hold me until I am whole.
I'm finally a real person,
I'm finally alive.

and by then

the meal was stale

It sat congealing

upon a cold plate

My breath

did not make

an ounce of difference

to how you feel

when you served

the meal

I think you see

my appreciable

as just another

song gone cold

I weep over every bite

I stay silent

because

my spoken word

can't make it

right

*but I will savour
every bite

I sit there and know
That I could never
Engage myself in conversations
With these conundrums.

Those who are both human, and
Badly wrapped paper packages,
Filled with so much experience,
Brimming with knowledge which
Is rapidly fleeing through
The holes in the brown paper
Worn by time.

How can I speak to those
Who cannot hear my words in full
So that they must be talked to
Slowly, like
They are children
But that have been through so much
More than I
At the tender age of seventeen
Could even imagine.

How can I speak to these enigmas
Who keep asking me the same questions
But which I cannot talk to
Without being
Disrespectful

Not only towards them
But towards my future
Aged self, who will one day
Be in their position
And who I cannot imagine
Will want to be treated
Like a five year old
At the age of eighty five.

One night I was sleeping
Soundly in bed,
When I heard an odd noise
From over my head.

I opened my eyes,
And what did I see?
A boy in all green,
Just staring at me!

My mouth open wide,
I let out a scream,
And wondered if it
Could all be a dream.

Frightened, the boy
Flew quickly away.
Wait, flew? Yes, flew!
He flew upwards, I say!

When he saw that I
Wouldn't shout anymore,
He came out of hiding,
And stood back on the floor.

Scared but in awe
Of this magical boy,
I reached out my hand
And he took it with joy.

I asked for his name,
And he said, "Peter Pan!
Always a boy,
And never a man!"

I laughed at this statement,
And with hands on his hips,
He flew back up in the air
And did a few flips.

No longer scared,
I was happy as can be,
Peter flew to my side
Saying, "come fly with me!"

With a burst of excitement,
I grabbed at his hand,
And flew along with him
To his home, Neverland.

Although he was small,
This boy dressed in tights,
Could fly up and reach
The greatest of heights.