my heart, darker than the night sky turns black

from such sadness you have clouded me grey.

oh, how i dream someone will mix in white.

on a rainy day i start to think back

to when we’d spend time watching the trees sway;

fluorescent green and yellow shine - not black.

i noticed how your love began to lack

a smile so genuine; no longer gay.

your brand-new shirts are blood stained and off-white.

your sudden change-of-heart gave mine a crack;

paralyzed for weeks, i watch curtains fray

and lovers overwhelmed with joy - not black.

just like a train with rails off the track,

i haven’t moved in weeks, wishing you’d lay

with me one last time - to mix in some white.

love letters i write to you form a stack

in the bottom drawer of my desk, they stay

and my heart becomes a little less black;

since i figured out how to add some white.

She waited impatiently for dawn to break.
Darkness had swallowed up her small house.
Her golden locks wound tight like a snake.

Her longing heart throbbed with ache.
The hearth’s warmth beckoned a mouse.
She waited impatiently for dawn to break.

Chimney smoke hung over the frozen lake.
Clenched tight with fists her flowery blouse.
Her golden locks wound tight like a snake.

Thoughts of mourning she tried to shake.
Overflowing to the floor her *** of scouse.
She waited impatiently for dawn to break.

She couldn’t join the rest with a smile so fake.
Her soldier was somewhere from here to Laos.
Her golden locks wound tight like a snake.

His absence pierced her heart like a stake.
Driven to the bottle like a louse.
She waited impatiently for dawn to break.
Her golden locks wound tight like a snake.

She thinks he hung the moon.
A princess with her shining knight
In love, she fell, with him so soon.

As he proclaimed her beautiful, she swoons.
He stands in black; she walks in white
She thinks he hung the moon.

Pinot grigio in crystal poured by noon;
He reads to her in the yellow sunlight -
In love, she fell, with him so soon.

By night, he has her wrapped in a cocoon
Fire ablaze, she clenches his arms so tight
She thinks he hung the moon.

By morning, it’s their honeymoon
He kisses her hard with all his might
In love, she fell, with him so soon.

And then, by the end of June,
Inside her something stirs, a delight
She knows he hung the moon,
In love, she fell, strongly with him so soon.

The timeworn valley deafens us with hollow sighs and screams.
Its captives ensure to advertise a uniform and mundane beauty.
Look past the freezing air and glacial words, lest we forget it’s better than it seems.

The sunlight on the frosty grass blinds us as it gleams.
We keep ourselves safe inside with scalding chamomile tea.
The winter gods shower in gold as another devotee screams.

The red chariot regrettably careens
Into the gates of Hell, as much deserving are we.
In times like this, we tell ourselves, “It’s better than it seems.”

In a bubble filled with emperors, tsars and kings and queens,
A king may think of another king, “I wish I were he.”
Inside of all the royals, the captive stabs and claws, bites and shoots, and screams.

The regal slaves make love under the biting moonbeams,
Not frozen yet, and never to be.
The prohibition and clandestinity make it better than it seems.

We have all divided into designated teams.
When the clock strikes four, they issue the royal decree.
This place is a shelter for our screams,
Because nobody’s home is better than it seems.

Where sea foam green swells want to **** me dead,
Intruding on their sacred turf alone,
I cast my caution to the wind instead

“Don’t sail out by yourself” my father said,
Adventure calling me away from home,
Where sea foam green swells want to **** me dead

My salty bridegroom and our angry bed,
A dizzy toss of waves and wet throat moans,
I cast my caution to the wind instead

The anchor light burns bright upon masthead,
As white as all the stars in midnight's dome,
Where sea foam green swells want to **** me dead

And though I may not have been born and bred,
To grind through life as if it were a bone,
I cast my caution to the wind instead

No clearer match was ever made or met,
Yet to each other, secrets kept unknown,
Where sea foam green swells want to **** me dead,
I cast my caution to the wind instead

Written by Sara Fielder © Dec 2012

Death'd selected his comrade to die
On some battlefield years before
And the eyeball had followed him home

So he struggled to reason the Why
But no answers would come to the fore
Death'd selected his comrade to die

As he slept she would hear frantic cries
He adored her yet she needed more
But the eyeball had followed him home

Thus he wanted to end his own life
Asking, "What is it really all for?"
Death'd selected his comrade to die

He figured it'd all been a lie
Politicians blood thirsty for war
Still the eyeball had followed him home

And his tears might not ever run dry
And presumably prayers were ignored
Death'd selected his comrade to die
And the eyeball had followed him home

Written by Sara Fielder © Sept 2012

Floating upon the crystal pond
She kept wearing her diamond crown
While the other white swan was gone

Never doubting their fierce loving bond
As the leaves went from reddish to brown
Floating upon the crystal pond

Her blue eyes searching far beyond
Couldn’t see that he’d recently drowned
While the other white swan was gone

So curling, becoming withdrawn
When ten suns in the sky settled down
Floating upon the crystal pond

She talked to the geese that were blond
And asked where he was with a frown
While the other white swan was gone

They cared not and didn’t respond
In the reeds was a kings golden crown
Floating upon the crystal pond
While the other white swan was gone

Written by Sara Fielder © Aug 2012

Inside the belly of the whale
He left her to construct her fate
A conduct far beyond the pale

A darkness like the pit of hell
She slipped and tumbled upside down
Inside the belly of the whale

Skeletal hands with sharp toenails
That clung to alabaster walls
And onyx wing-beats flapped pell-mell

The mousy guano rained and fell
Laying eggs inside her hair
Inside the belly of the whale!

She looked to hide to no avail
He’d plowed ahead and left her there
A conduct far beyond the pale

No handholds, 'twas like reading Braille
He'd doused the green light lamp telltales
Inside the belly of the whale
A conduct far beyond the pale

Written by Sara Fielder © July 2012

The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.
She is daughter of the sun, reason the moon shines.
The view is breathtaking, and so is the vacuum.

Below spin smells of seaweed, wildflower perfume,
but here satellites crush to dust, just alkaline.
The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.

There's no air to breathe up here, only fumes;
she sees moons fall into their planets all the time.
The view is breathtaking, and so is the vacuum.

Sundancer somnambulist hears ghosts in her bedroom.
She pulls the tides to her chin, tucked in, and hides.
The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.

She dances in dark but keeps a toothbrush in my bathroom.
She is trying to survive.
The view is breathtaking, and so if the vacuum.

She whistles at birds, content in her own volume.
Constellation clustered face, her freckled stars align.
The sundancer is dodging space junk on the moon.
The view is breathtaking, and so are you.