My mind is a castle
Caught up within clouds
Dreaming of fairytales and knights
Or a prince with a crown
Thinking true love is the answer;
My first kiss will break the spell
Making wishes on all the pennies
I’ve thrown into wells

I am a princess in a tower
I’ve been waiting for the day
When the walls around me crumble
Will a hero come my way?
But my castle in the clouds
Isn’t real, it’s make-believe
This hero doesn’t exist
It is my heart’s own cold reprieve.

So I will climb down from my tower
With my own bare hands and feet
And I will wrestle every dragon
Until I set myself free
I will bleed and I’ll break a few of my bones
And in the leaves of the trees I’ll make a new home
With the birds and the sky, the grass and the earth
Because I don’t need a man to make me feel my own worth.

This is a metaphor of my own life. WARNING. IT IS LONG. I don't expect anyone to read it.
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A shadow claws up your skin tonight.
Combing each wrinkle with heightened delight.
Each pin ***** tendril sends an ecstatic
amount of confusion into your mind.

And you wonder...

If fortune was true... then what of the man
who came in a storm, while before him ran
an energy source he named Midnight Eve
who caused him to rise. To fall. To believe.

For while he was nothing, with time left to squander
his feet were too restless, for him to just wander.
Though the dark of the sky, clouded his eyes
and the tower above which rose through the skies

set a sample of truth which was hard to ignore.
A sample of face. A chime sounding core
which left behind music, friendship and charm
and fought against peace to cause some self harm.

Yes he strove by the day. Every minute and hour,
possessed by a height, a young,  dying flower
which in truth was a game to confuse and deceive him
but he knew, he foretold, and refused to believe in

a whelp made of feathers, claws and two wings.
Meant to defy him, and rip hearts of kings.
But moved onward, further, forgetting her name.
He played his own style. He played his own game.

He moved on...

He had a hand in throwing down the tower.
Each step he took, deprived it of it's power
til at the last he looked back at the sky
and saw a sight his mind could not defy.

For in his huge desire just to escape,
and maybe soon his mind would not be *****,
the blackened sky produced a single light
which held his gaze forever from that night.

That light beheld the shadow on his brow
and brightened up the sky, still up til now.
The God made structure fell, to dust it crumbled.
And he was free, so onward he stumbled.

Time carries on...

Oh Midnight Eve, he longs to see
your dark shod eyes revived.
For in those pools, he is a fool,
a piece of life denied.

He met a God, of light and waste
who tried to snare his bell.
He picked her up and tossed her off
the world and so she fell.

Wanderer returns:

While he travelled he often stopped
for rest. On one such occasion, as
he slept, he was visited by a beast
claiming to be a friend. This beast
gave him wings and power and
disappeared into thin air.

The wings were snares.  The power
was contradictory to true strength
and offered him only chains and
lack of hope.

The sun sets:

Winter has fallen,
yet he must find her, his light
before she moves on.

Always she's two steps.
And no matter how he runs...
he never sees her.

The truth and an end:

He caught her once, peering at him
through a different reality A sphere he
could never perceive.

He clove at that rounded ball,
impossibility chipping his wings,
stripping his power, yet always
she smiled at his efforts, love in
her eyes.

It drove him crazy with desire, to
see sadness within those beautiful
slanted eyes, and with his last bit of
strength he forced his hand into
another world, touching for a second
her beautiful cheek.

Then he was gone... and she was alone
again. She looked at his gravestone,
and with her love, inscribed it with
his own heart...

HERE LIES DISTANT WANDERER
WHO TRAVELLED TIME AND SPACE
TO FIND HIS MIDNIGHT EVE.

Fluid rivers, their white noise and chilly inhaled lace
ease my mind's labyrinth, catching deep breaths
dancing in dreams of forest filled landscapes
like a child's security blanket, mother nature's embrace
we awake to marsh mellows and sticky coat hangers  
the dull, orange embers reignite purpose flames
as sunrise and coffee breaks the plains
a guitar lies naked near **** bottles of wine
reclaiming its tuning, strumming life into souls
and once the satsumas and the coffee's devoured
we bask in the sunshine, winding down hours
delaying the inevitable Watch Full Moon Tower

I am Rapunzel,
Up in her tower,
Alienated from the rest
Of the world,
Separated by an invisible line
That I can't cross.
Between the window and the ground,
There lies a barrier,
That even the most charming
Prince can't bridge.
The effort to join the rest
Of the world is too much,
My hair is too short to
Reach the ground, to reach reality.
But aren't I in a
Fantasy world to
Begin with?

Tower …by Jessie 11/05

Busy people run aerie
Build a tower up to the sky
Communication at it’s best

Working hard, accomplish tasks
Do just what the foreman asks
Everything is running smooth

Soon, the foundations laid
Blood, sweat and all have prayed
Another layers up

It’s not long and heavens close
But all the people start to boast
God looks down and frowns

Angry that they build to him
Looking upon it as a sin
He waves his arm and sends it crashing down

Snaps his finger, numbs their tongues
Fathers can’t communicate with sons
Every ones dispersed and quiet confused

Never again will man contrive
To sit right by his makers side
Nor will man understand the other man

Which one was wrong? It’s hard to say
But I’ll tell you this…from that day
Its no wonder, man can’t get along with man

Dedicated to the victims of Grenfell Tower*

She stands amid the buzz of metal flies:
This obelisk, memento of the dead.
The sirens crudely mimicking their cries
As pilgrims in their guilt leave much unsaid.

A once sweet hive is now an empty husk,
Her armour was to be her Achilles' heel,
And as the cold grey sky fades into dusk;
I speak not what I ought, but what I feel:

Instead of words there comes a cry of pain -
A strangled howl and heavy sobs of guilt.
What can be said when words are all in vain -
Like rain, on this gazebo that we built?

While politicians bluster “Nevermore”,
We will remember them forevermore.