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LN Apr 2014
Stop scarring your own skin
Tearing your thoughts apart
You are a masterpiece of wonders
Rebuild yourself and be whole again
Write out your demons
And tear the paper instead
The pains of reality justify the
Deep seated sorrow of man.

The vulture encircles me
Events surrounded by mystery
Enveloped in insanity
The human race is
Captivated by mystery
Doomed to repeat history

Collusion to bestow unmitigated
Sorrow upon my being

Simply put, I am
Damaged goods

Speak softly now
And choose your next thoughts
Carefully,
For the devil has called
My soul to dance

Reckless, unmitigated
Abandonment
Of mind, body, and soul
Fruitless searches
Forever numb
Longing to feel whole

Deep beneath the rolling waves
Lies serenity
Amongst sunken slaves
Deep inside my brain
The labyrinth of my mind
Memories that
I've left behind
Gone with the breeze
Above arid land
Somewhere lost in the desert
Where only shamans understand
Somewhere locked in the innocence
Of childhood frailty
Misplaced in the universe
Perpetuating reality
Walking alongside
All the gods of the ages
Bounding across time
In history's pages
Vacated with the morals
Of man
Lost in the seams of
Our lives
In the absence of the infinite
Shared hallucinogenic cries
Gone with the limbs of
The serpent
Ignored individuality dies
The reflection of man tainted,
For it is where the devil hides
Looming in the shadows
Of irresistible allure
No acquittal of our sins
A race ****** to remain
Impure
Violence surrounding our
Unequivocal, dastardly instincts
Perched in the forefront of our
Perceived selves
Selfish, devilish
Acts of kindness
The misfortune of the fortunate
Given all the amenities
Of a king's meal
Without the sensation of
Taste
Washed away with our
Dreams of betterment
Laying upon the chests
Of mythological beasts
Souls left rotting
Souring with ferment

Supreme consciousness
Arouses the senses
Invent my future with the
Myths of the past

You're stuck in a state of
Imaginary grace
Dream myself into
New bounds of transparency

Cryptic writings
Things left unsaid
Unsure of the real
Or the surreal
Life's slipping away
Once again
Paper in hand
Palms begin to sweat
Indulging into reality
Memories
I long to forget

It seems forever
Since I've been home
Trying to balance
This chemical imbalance
But always, I'm left here
Alone
Believing my dreams real
Realizing my world's surreal
Living with uncertainty
Imagining reality

Where do I go
To hide the pain?
Dual existence?
Acute psychosis?
Trapped inside my own
Brain
There's a place in my mind
I like to hide
Where all of my secrets
I do confide
There's a place I go
To bury the pain
A papered existence
Conducive synopsis,
Abstained

I begin to sweat
My heart screaming
From my chest
Let the feeling pass
Delve into the kingdom
Inability to
Repress
Take me away
To that far off place
Abscond into surreality
Amongst things I dare not
Confess

Drinking in divinity
Affixed on mortality
Will I die in this place?
Unable to resurface
Back in reality

Stuck running in circles
On a surface-less plane
Can't escape the shadows
Can't remove the pain
Simple design
Made up of
Over thought complexity
A universe separated
Removed from the modern mind
Inexorably

Amputation of
The mutation
That is the
Human race
Segregation of this
Charred realm
From other wordly
Space
We live
We die
And death begins it
Reinvent our minds
Ignite our passions

Drowning in a gene pool
Of degenerates
Souls thrashing
Wildly, forlorn
Plunged into unmitigated
Evil
Of a race that destroys
The unborn

Lachrymose gaze
Upon the living dead
A thin film of separation
Through which lies
Are fed
Understanding the weakness
Into which we are
******
For shed blood
Forces cries
Ripping from mother's eyes
Witnessing her own demise
As a piece of her
Slowly dies
For father's impenitent
Fantasies once dreamed
Torn away from aching
Fingers
Left ravaged,
Impotent

Gazing at you
Under the cloak of
Intrigue
Watching you struggle
In the tangled lies
You weave

Commanding the head
Of the serpent
Lilith forcing man's
Non-repent
Imposed upon our being
Righteous punishments
Such ramifications
Deemed astringent

Incomprehensible
Allure
Masochists of
Everything pure

Watch the world die
From afar
Irrevocable despair
Promising allegiance
To a life I cannot
Bear

Killing myself with
Indecision
On the perimeter
Of sanity
In the psychotropic prison
And psychotic affliction

Here it comes again
The voices, getting louder
It doesn't feel good anymore
How do I escape
Escaping?
Where do I go when my sanctum
Has been compromised?
Unable to quiet
The insurgents afoot
Incurable, incalculable
Indecision
Lost, finding my way home
Left in between existence
Alongside myself
Alone

The cold, inhuman ability
To sacrifice one's own mind
Hanging onto the coat tails
Of free thought
Journey we now,
Into the nightmare
Ignoring loss of
Comprehension
Vacated laws of
Apprehension
Arming latent illness
Plotting revenge
Beneath the surface

Here it comes again
I hear it getting louder
It doesn't feel good anymore
Who will save the lifeguard
When he's about to drown?

Can you see me?
Can you hear my cry out?
He looks to find
There's no one around

Searching indefinitely
For myself
Lost in another
Under the guise of
Someone else
Why does it matter?
Seemingly insignificant
In a moment of clarity
Just breathe for a moment
Shoved back in reality
"Am I dreaming," he asked
His reflection replied
The answer profound
Unknowingly died

I sold my soul to get here
On the periphery of realization
Stuck on the perimeter of reality
Reentry revoked
Forced to sit idly
As my life passes
Before my eyes

This is my letter
Unable to deliver
This is my life
Unable to decipher
This is my nightmare
That I've never dreamed before

Trapped in the prison
I've constructed on my own
Locked myself in four walls
Of uncertainty
Built in the center of being
Unnoticed by the proprietor
Frailty prevalent
Implosion of the mind
Leading to the ******* of
The insanity
I've come to find

Death looms at the end
Of the candlestick
Walk hand in hand
With me
Fellow traveler of
Uncharted paths
My fellow affliction
With the unknown
Unable to save myself
From the pain I know
Awaits me

Here it comes again
Inescapable, maniacal laughter
It doesn't feel good anymore
And all I ever wanted
Was your guiding hand
Complacent in lies
Forcing deafening cries,
For there will be
No reprise
As my soul flutters
And dies

Death for sale
Ten will take you away
Consumed by the thought of it
No more worry
No more being suppressed
This other kingdom
Unknowingly repressed
Delve deeper into the nightmare
We lie together
Naked
Unashamed
Open to the probing
Fingertips
Of the world
Unable to speak
Sleep paralysis,
Yet this is no dream
Wide eyed
Searching
Unable to scream

Incommunicable desires
No longer latent
Unsuppressed is the disease
Of your discontent
Insufferable, forcible pain
Towards the ones loved most
Catatonic, embryonic
Feeble mind
Please save me from myself

Forgive me, father
For I know not what I do
Forgive me, mother
For I do not blame you

Plastic state of being
Suspended in the viscous
Coagulant of stolen thought
And free will
Drowning in my
Own enjoyment
Of self suffering

How will you remember me?
A trembling voice
To read my eulogy?

Forget the things I should have said
This demoness I've brought to bed
Speaking in riddles
Bewilderment of the senses
Deeper appreciation
For the subjugation of man

War criminals in suits
Pretentious, cowardly vestiges of man
Surrounded by an air of
Undeserved arrogance
Getting fat on young girls
Sending their children to war
Safeguarded by a desk
And the allure of change
Obscene, disgusting animals
Consuming their weight daily
In the profit of drugs and
Devised disease
Profiteers of death
Politicians work the corners

And I fall,
Too weak to carry on
Can't escape my own
Lonely, cold, loveless
Gaze
Black holes in my head
Leading into the depths of
My soul
Emptiness pervading
Madness running rampant
Destroying who I once was
Tearing to pieces
My uniqueness
Stripped of self
Thrown back to march
Within the masses
Towards impending demise

Staring into the eyes
Of the serpent
Turned to stone
Numb to emotion
Numb to pain
I cry out for substance
I miss the person
I used to be
The person you loved
Before you met me

Relieve me now of sin
Unto re-birthing, begin
Relieve me now of this burden
Knowledge and shame
Relieve me now of myself
And self inflicted pain

There it goes again
Making me feel dour
It doesn't feel good anymore
Purge me of this dependency
Ancient, carnal need
Necessity of loathing the infinitesimal

I've met the devil in my dreams
She looked a lot like you
Dreaming in wakefulness
Awakened desire in dreams
What is my intention?

Do I provide a function
Or functionally provide?
Are you living in a nightmare?
Have you gone to sleep and died?

Synesthesia upon awakening
My sensory perceptions
The permutation of the
Infinite

Children of the wilderness
Remove us from the
Impurities of societal disorder
Relieve us of the blandishment
Of media driven fallacies
As the masses are hoarded,
Spoon fed their own flesh,
And directed onward
By the pusillanimous grave robbers
Awarded with the title of
Government official
Given diplomatic immunity
And free reign over
The direction of our lives

There lies a serenity
Beneath the quiet surface
Of the ocean
The ocean floor is vast,
Uninhabited promise

I have developed an acute prescience
For what will come

Man unknowingly conspires
Against himself,
For the good of man
Cannot overcome
The evils of mankind
Conquering in the name of
Worthless ideals
And fruitless endeavors

Conforming to nonconformity
You're only fooling yourself

Wandering about in a dreamy state
With unexplained expectations
For some sort of happy outcome
Welcome to my nightmare
My inescapable kismet
Defend me from myself
I have become
My own worst enemy
Just a hyena looking for
A lions share
More animalistic than
A starving predator

Morally ambivalent
Acting upon
Inconclusive notions
There is no stability
In this loose earth
Sinking ever deeper
Into life unbeknownst
To me
Quicksand enveloping
Sanity and conscience
Leaving behind
Only memories of
What we ought to have
Become

Been suppressing emotion
For so long
Seems like forever
Since I've gone
Numb to the heartache
Blind to the happiness
Rediscovered childhood
At the end of my life

The words become a
Flowing river
My pen cannot dance
Quickly enough
To capture my
Escaping tongue

Discovering escape
Through self sufficiency

Sanity is nomadic
Traveling from
Person to person
Mind to mind
At any given moment
We are all insane
Began as a stream of consciousness and developed into a monster.
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2018
and

you think you are done with it.
but the notion potion returns
with your stolen free will
taunting and tearing, sealing
and then dissolving
the seals

no retirement in this world
from where human means pliable
and pliable means capable of being
twisted; nay, retwisted...

last we left you,
we were weeping on the
concrete sidewalk of
Third Avenue, the police,
giving you a move on command,
as Jean Valjean earworms one into
the incapacity of movement  
because of the audacity to request
to bring him home

such is the sorrow of the lost child;
it comes with irregularity
yet, never failing to return,
the child lost, the residual, resides
within like a violin adagio reaching
the punishing silence
after a crescendo that  pretense
promised momentary relief

we struggle to keep any and all keepsakes,
polished and fed; rust and time,
no polish in the five & time dime
that does a good enough job,
but you buy it anyway

well aware that fate will inevitably
rob you, it’s so purposed

twist you, retest you and re-will you, to never forget until
you have no need for forgetting but the peace of
constant remembering when all on that day
molecules and nucleotides
collide in the atmosphere,
dog licking, cat weeping purrs, meaning hallelujah home

the endless sadness of the lost lad-ness,
dimly grow the recollections of the first word,
the first delight, the confidence complete
that your babe is non pareil;
the violin sweeps you along and the
genteel tide still too string strong to resist

the woman comes into the room;
the reddened eyes no hide
the weeping outside and in the centerpiece of a soul;
why she asks, not surprised for she’s seen it
too many **** poem-times:

my Adam, I answer;
suffices and wisely
leaves me to
compose and decompose simultaneously
weeping weeping forever weeping
even when not

furious eddies rock smashing,
curious they splash me with taunts
"you want for naught!"

but naught is the only possess
that owing it makes one impoverished

perhaps he will email me, ewail me,
does he know I am at the
Wailing Wall, Jerusalem,
insert parchment prayers for his safety

oh my Absalom, oh my Adam, my favorite first born,
come sit next to me on the sidewalk
so close to where you live,
comfort me as in the days of your youth,
now that we are both
so very much older

sleep well all you lads and children,
never mind these unstoppable tearings,
never mind the heaviness,
for it has passed
as the tears ~shed,
enlighten and lessen
my embodiment

7/16/18 prone and alone
for my kinship
Bees build around red liver,
Ants build around black bone.
It has begun: the tearing, the trampling on silks,
It has begun: the breaking of glass, wood, copper, nickel, silver, foam
Of gypsum, iron sheets, violin strings, trumpets, leaves, *****, crystals.
****! Phosphorescent fire from yellow walls
Engulfs animal and human hair.


Bees build around the honeycomb of lungs,
Ants build around white bone.
Torn is paper, rubber, linen, leather, flax,
Fiber, fabrics, cellulose, snakeskin, wire.
The roof and the wall collapse in flame and heat seizes the foundations.
Now there is only the earth, sandy, trodden down,
With one leafless tree.


Slowly, boring a tunnel, a guardian mole makes his way,
With a small red lamp fastened to his forehead.
He touches buried bodies, counts them, pushes on,
He distinguishes human ashes by their luminous vapor,
The ashes of each man by a different part of the spectrum.
Bees build around a red trace.
Ants build around the place left by my body.


I am afraid, so afraid of the guardian mole.
He has swollen eyelids, like a Patriarch
Who has sat much in the light of candles
Reading the great book of the species.


What will I tell him, I, a Jew of the New Testament,
Waiting two thousand years for the second coming of Jesus?
My broken body will deliver me to his sight
And he will count me among the helpers of death:
The uncircumcised.
Emma May 2014
Tears like diamonds
Fall down my face
Scraping against it
Tearing the skin
Ripping the flesh
And easing the pain
Or increasing it

At this point
I don't know
Curt A Rivard Sr Apr 2013
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages
Step right up; his dying time is now near
all his pain, all his screams, do you want to hear?
Welcome... I bid you welcome...
Welcome to my three ring ****** state of mind
inside my evil twisted thoughts you'll see I'm only a one of a kind.
There is no rush that is greater now than the shaking of a corpse's hand, telling them my name and there not getting off my table till I'm done after their hourglass had ran out of sand.
For all my life I was rocked to sleep in the cradle of a nightmare.
Tested and taunted all along the way I told you all before in my chest my heart does not stay to tell my works are original, better look for the linen paper at your funeral.
For I blended embalming fluid and powder in my dipping pens ink well and every morning I unscrew it's cap and take a deep smell, burning vapors now fill my eyes as they begin to weep rolling down my face you'll be able to tell like black magic voodoo I am under my own sick powerful spell.
Tearing your name out of the book of life I doused you with a bucket full of gasoline and told you to now run faster than the gingerbread man as I'm chasing you with a loaded flair gun. Now you’re the burned page and you can never be found.
It was a rainy night after when I put you under the sinking muddy ground so happy now that your gone my head no longer has to hurt with murdering voices in my skull that pound.
Watch me now as I show you all how it is really done
performing for you all a living embalming nightmare.
Turning up the pressure and setting the dials till a pressure pulsating flow
He can’t escape, my number one son has him tied up with strips from his prison sheet and now there shouting code blue over the intercom cause my arson freak is laughing, as he's making a mummy out of you.
Trapped in your cell he holds the key and now you have nowhere to go.
Watch me now pump his neck with liquid silver mercury
till it seeps out his eye sockets and he now no longer sees. Tickling your sponge like the Egyptians did I'm now breaking the bone and then packing your nose with cotton ***** soaked with super glue. How easy it was to do and how beautiful it felt wanting it to trickel out your ears.
Placing my nose close for the death smell it was there for I had smelt. Rigid rigor slowly setting in I can tell, thank you my old friend for the way you had felt.
Now I have to do a reverse fill because your body is holding no pressure, your veins did not swell, O' my God, it's not looking well.
Brain matters now pouring out your nostrils ever so fast and is streaking down your upper lip.
Why me I can see is on your face the answer is coming soon to you and to all your loved ones I will tell.
Shaking my hands clean and collecting it all in a jar, seven layers thick I love playing with all your skin slip :)
Feelings can’t compare, this is the best, now isn’t this fun?
The party isn’t over yet for I have only just begun.
He as a glock three eighty not only did he dress but he also shot it like an old lady. O' don't worry there's always another day for acting like a rat, how about an attack with a baseball bat?
  When I am done for you all today
I'll prove to you that I am bullet and shatter proof cause,
I’m then going to stuff that little ballerina inside it's very own special music box
Peeking and peering through the caskets keyhole
I can see he’s scratching and tearing at the coffins lid
Believing rumors that you have heard, come on for real, are you a kid?
Whispering to you a sweet death lullaby its ok you now can start to cry.
It’s too bad now I gave you a chance, you can beg, you can plead but I now must dip my pen and write this poem with your blood as your body now begins to bleed.
Tears won’t work no matter how hard you try
this is what you get for believing someone’s lie
Members of the audience I thank you all and you all are very welcome
look at him now just like then it was so funny looking inside and seeing no brain. look he's crying again like a baby full of trauma and getting ready to go insane trust I know, you all will never forget my name!
I must now wash away all the evidence and go fetch for you a first son for I am running madder than the craziest plague in the Bible.
You can use all the ****** lambs’ blood you can find to paint a cross over your doorway but that won't stop my sickness because I cannot stop now for this is too much fun.
Hey what can I say...
But I always do say...
Welcome to the show!

(SirCARSr 4-30-13)
Kelsie Cameron Jan 2011
You hate it.
The slow tearing of your heart,
But you need it.
You need it to survive the day.
Because if you lose it,
You know that it is over.
The dream is gone.
The dream that someday he will leave her,
Leave her to enter your embrace;
To put his tender lips upon yours in a way so gentle that only he would Understand.
You want him to hold your hand
And whisper into your ear that he loves you more than himself,
And that he would jump in front of a freight train to make sure you Were okay.
You Can't bare the thought of the picture he has painted,
Yet you're flattered.
Then you realize that it won't ever happen.
Now you can picture it,
See his hot breath pass your cheek to your jaw line.
Then to your lips,
That's when you feel it the most.
The slow tearing of your heart.
Your center,
Your everything.
Then you see him pass
And your heart stops
Only to recollect itself when he leaves.
It only gets worse.
I wrote this a while ago also, but it is one of my favorites.
Mike Bergeron Sep 2012
There was a house fire on my street last night …well… not exactly my street, but on a little, sketchy, dead-end strip of asphalt, sidewalks, weeds, and garbage that juts into my block two houses down. It was on that street. Rosewood Court, population: 12, adjusted population: 11, characterized by anonymity and boarded windows, peppered with the swift movements of fat street rats. I’ve never been that close to a real, high-energy, make-sure-to-spray-down-your-roof-with-a-hose-so-it-doesn’t-catch­ fire before. It was the least of my expectations for the evening, though I didn’t expect a crate of Peruvian bananas to fall off a cargo plane either, punching through the ceiling, littering the parking lot with damaged fruit and shingles, tearing paintings and shelves and studs from the third floor walls, and crashing into our kitchen, shattering dishes and cabinets and appliances. Since that never happened, and since neither the former nor the latter situation even crossed my mind, I’ll stick with “least of my expectations,” and bundle up with it inside that inadequate phrase whatever else may have happened that I wouldn’t have expected.



I had been reading in my living room, absently petting the long calico fur of my roommate’s cat Dory. She’s in heat, and does her best to make sure everyone knows it, parading around, *** in the air, an opera of low trilling and loud meows and deep purring. As a consequence of a steady tide of feline hormones, she’s been excessively good humored, showering me with affection, instead of her usual indifference, punctuated by occasional, self-serving shin rubs when she’s hungry. I saw the lights before I heard the trucks or the shouts of firemen or the panicked wail of sirens, spitting their warning into the night in A or A minor, but probably neither, I’m no musician. Besides, Congratulations was playing loud, flowing through the speakers in the corners of the room, connected to the record player via the receiver with the broken volume control, travelling as excited electrons down stretches of wire that are, realistically, too short, and always pull out. The song was filling the space between the speakers and the space between my ears with musings on Brian Eno, so the auditory signal that should have informed me of the trouble that was afoot was blocked out. I saw the lights, the alternating reds and whites that filled my living room, drawing shifting patterns on my walls, ceiling, floor, furniture, and shelves of books, dragging me towards the door leading outside, through the cluttered bike room, past the sleeping, black lump of oblivious fur that is usually my boisterous male kitten, and out into the bedlam I  had previously been ignorant to. I could see the smoke, it was white then gray then white, all the while lending an acrid taste to the air, but I couldn’t see where it was issuing from. The wind was blowing the smoke toward my apartment, away from Empire Mills. I tried to count the firetrucks, but there were so many. I counted six on Wilmarth Ave, one of which was the awkward-looking, heavy-duty special hazards truck. In my part of the city, the post-industrial third-wave ***** river valley, you never know if the grease fire that started with homefries in a frying pan in an old woman’s kitchen will escalate into a full-blown mill fire, the century-old wood floors so saturated with oil and kerosene and ****** and manufacturing chemicals and ghosts and god knows what other flammable **** that it lights up like a fifth of July leftover sparkler, burning and melting the hand of the community that fed it for so many decades, leaving scars that are displayed on the local news for a week and are forgotten in a few years’ time.



The night was windy, and the day had been dry, so precautions were abundant, and I counted two more trucks on Fones Ave. One had the biggest ladder I’ve ever seen. It was parked on the corner of Fones and Wilmarth, directly across from the entrance into the forgotten dead-end where the forgotten house was burning, and the ladder was lifting into the air. By now my two roommates had come outside too, to stand on our rickety, wooden staircase, and Jeff said he could see flames in the windows of one of the three abandoned houses on Rosewood, through the third floor holes where windows once were, where boards of plywood were deemed unnecessary.



“Ay! Daddy!”



My neighbor John called up to us. He serves as the eyes and ears and certainly the mouth of our block, always in everyone’s business, without being too intrusive, always aware of what’s going down and who’s involved. He proceeded to tell us the lowdown on the blaze as far as he knew it, that there were two more firetrucks and an ambulance down Rosewood, that the front and back doors to the house were blocked by something from inside, that those somethings were very heavy, that someone was screaming inside, that the fire was growing.



Val had gone inside to get his jacket, because despite the floodlights from the trucks imitating sunlight, the wind and the low temperature and the thought of a person burning alive made the night chilly. Val thought we should go around the block, to see if we could get a better view, to satisfy our congenital need to witness disaster, to see the passenger car flip over the Jersey barrier, to watch the videos of Jihadist beheadings, to stand in line to look at painted corpses in velvet, underlit parlors, and sit in silence while their family members cry. We walked down the stairs, into full floodlight, and there were first responders and police and fully equipped firefighters moving in all directions. We watched two firemen attempting to open an old, rusty fire hydrant, and it could’ve been inexperience, the stress of the situation, the condition of the hydrant, or just poor luck, but rather than opening as it was supposed to the hydrant burst open, sending the cap flying into the side of a firetruck, the water crashing into the younger of the two men’s face and torso, knocking him back on his ***. While he coughed out surprised air and water and a flood of expletives, his partner got the situation under control and got the hose attached. We turned and walked away from the fire, and as we approached the turn we’d take to cut through the rundown parking lot that would bring us to the other side of the block, two firemen hurried past, one leading the other, carrying between them a stretcher full of machines for monitoring and a shitload of wires and tubing. It was the stiff board-like kind, with handles on each end, the kind of stretcher you might expect to see circus clowns carry out, when it’s time to save their fallen, pie-faced cohort. I wondered why they were using this archaic form of patient transportation, and not one of the padded, electrical ones on wheels. We pushed past the crowd that had begun forming, walked past the Laundromat, the 7Eleven, the carwash, and took a left onto the street on the other side of the parking lot, parallel to Wilmarth. There were several older men standing on the sidewalk, facing the fire, hands either in pockets or bringing a cigarette to and from a frowning mouth. They were standing in the ideal place to witness the action, with an unobstructed view of the top two floors of the burning house, its upper windows glowing orange with internal light and vomiting putrid smoke.  We could taste the burning wires, the rugs, the insulation, the asbestos, the black mold, the trash, and the smell was so strong I had to cover my mouth with my shirt, though it provided little relief. We said hello, they grunted the same, and we all stood, watching, thinking about what we were seeing, not wanting to see what we were thinking.

Two firefighters were on the roof by this point, they were yelling to each other and to the others on the ground, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying because of the sirens from all the emergency vehicles that were arriving.  It seemed to me they sent every firetruck in the city, as well as more than a dozen police cars and a slew of ambulances, all of them arriving from every direction. I guess they expected the fire to get really out of hand, but we could already see the orange glow withdrawing into the dark of the house, steam and smoke rippling out of the stretched, wooden mouths of the rotted window frames. In a gruff, habitual smoker’s voice, we heard

                                      “Chopper called the fire depahtment

We was over at the vet’s home

                He says he saw flames in the windas

                                                                                                                                                We all thought he was shittin’ us

We couldn’t see nothin’.”

A man between fifty-five to sixty-five years old was speaking, no hair on his shiny, tanned head, old tattoos etched in bluish gray on his hands, arms, and neck, menthol smoke rising from between timeworn fingers. He brought the cigarette to his lips, drew a hearty chest full of smoke, and as he let it out he repeated

                                                “Yea, chopper called em’

Says he saw flames.”

The men on the roof were just silhouettes, backlit by the dazzling brightness of the lights on the other side.  The figure to the left of the roof pulled something large up into view, and we knew instantly by the cord pull and the sound that it was a chainsaw. He began cutting directly into the roof. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, wondered if he was scared of falling into the fire, assumed he probably was, but had at least done this before, tried to figure out if he was doing it to gain entry or release pressure or whatever. The man to the right was hacking away at the roof with an axe. It was surreal to watch, to see two men transformed from public servants into fingers of destruction, the pinkie and ring finger fighting the powerful thumb of the controlled chemical reaction eating the air below them, to watch the dark figures shrouded in ethereal light and smoke and sawdust and what must’ve been unbearable heat from below, to be viewing everything with my own home, my belongings, still visible, to know it could easily have gone up in flames as well.

I should’ve brought my jacket. I remember complaining about it, about how the wind was passing through my skin like a window screen, chilling my blood, in sharp contrast to the heat that was morphing and rippling the air above the house as it disappeared as smoke and gas up into the atmosphere from the inside out.

Ten minutes later, or maybe five, or maybe one, the men on the roof were still working diligently cutting and chopping, but we could no longer see any signs of flames, and there were figures moving around in the house, visible in the windows of the upper floors, despite the smoke. Figuring the action must be reaching its end, we decided to walk back to our apartment. We saw Ken’s brown pickup truck parked next to the Laundromat, unable to reach our parking lot due to all the emergency vehicles and people clogging our street. We came around the corner and saw the other two members of the Infamous Summers standing next to our building with the rest of the crowd that had gathered. Dosin told us the fire was out, and that they had pulled someone from inside the gutted house, but no ambulance had left yet, and his normally smiling face was flat and somber, and the beaten guitar case slung over his shoulder, and his messed up hair, and the red in his cheeks from the cold air, and the way he was moving rocks around with the toe of his shoe made him look like a lost child, chasing a dream far from home but finding a nightmare in its place, instead of the professional who never loses his cool or his direction.

The crowd all began talking at once, so I turned around, towards the dead end and the group of firefighters and EMTs that were emerging. Their faces were stoic, not a single expression on all but one of those faces, a young EMT, probably a Basic, or a Cardiac, or neither, but no older than twenty, who was silently weeping, the tears cutting tracks through the soot on his cheeks, his eyes empty of emotion, his lips drawn tight and still. Four of them were each holding a corner of the maroon stretcher that took two to carry when I first saw it, full of equipment. They did not rush, they did not appear to be tending to a person barely holding onto life, they were just carrying the weight. As they got close gasps and cries of horror or disgust or both issued from the crowd, some turned away, some expressions didn’t change, some eyes closed and others stayed fixed on what they came to see. One woman vomited, right there on the sidewalk, splashing the shoes of those near her with the partially digested remains of her EBT dinner. I felt my own stomach start to turn, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

                                                                                It was like I was seven again,

                                in the alleyway running along the side of the junior high school I lived near and would eventually attend,

looking in silent horror at what three eighth graders from my neighborhood were doing.

It was about eight in the evening of a rainy,

late summer day,

and I was walking home with my older brother,

cutting through the alley like we always did.

The three older boys were standing over a small dog,

a terrier of some sort.

They had duct taped its mouth shut and its legs together,

but we could still hear its terrified whines through its clenched teeth.

One of the boys had cut off the dog’s tail.

He had it in one hand,

and was still holding the pocket knife in the other.

None of them were smiling,

or talking,

nor did they take notice of Andrew and I.

There was a garden bag standing up next to them that looked pretty full,

and there was a small pile of leaves on the ground next to it.

In slow motion I watched,

horrified,

as one of the boys,

Brian Jones-Hartlett,

picked up the shaking animal,

put it in the bag,

covered it with the leaves from the ground,

and with wide,

shining eyes,

set the bag

on fire

with a long-necked

candle

lighter.

It was too much for me then. I couldn’t control my nausea. I threw up and sat down while my head swam.

I couldn’t understand. I forgot my brother and the fact that he was older, that he should stop this,

Stop them,

There’s a dog in there,

You’re older, I’m sick,

Why can’t I stop them?

It was like
Lestatmalfoy Sep 2012
Too much whiskey makes me miss you
and I’m trying to forget you,
but the way you look is tearing me apart.

This empty house is all I’m facing
and the drinks won’t keep me waiting,
but I miss you when the day is getting dark
Your love was never mine to borrow
and I’m sinking in my sorrows
I love you when the glass is in my hand

Too much whiskey makes me miss you
and I’m trying to forget you
but the way you left is tearing me apart
My only friends are in these bottles
and I’m not thinkin’ ‘bout tomorrow
cause too much whiskey keeps your memory alive

This broken life is all I’m facing
and the tears won’t be wasted
but I miss you while I’m alone in bed
Your time was never mine to borrow
and I’m drowning in my sorrows
I love you when the whiskey’s on my breath

Too much whiskey makes me miss you
and I’m trying to forget you
but this emptiness is tearing me apart
And now I’m too drunk to stand
but the phone is in my hand
It’s time to make a call that I will regret

Too much whiskey makes me miss you
and in the morning I’ll forget you
So why are you still tearing me apart?
a song I wrote for my cousin's country band.
Yenson Aug 2018
Build me a slow boat to Timbuktu via China
Heave down a fleecy cloud and let me float to Nirvana
Hunt me a unicorn and let me ride to the Enchanted Forest
Find me a giant eagle and let it lift me to Outer Mongolia East

'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'


Show me a Church and I'll show you a hall full of Sinners
Point out a wife and I'll reveal a liar and a fake and none dimer
Call a Doctor and its a Monster who betrayed the Hippocratics
That Government Boss is a cruel heinous snake without ethics

'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'


See that Preacher and see a spineless hypocrite back-stabber
That lover was nothing but a sick deranged false **** twister
My dear acquaintance a heartless corrupted shyster unhinged
A Newsagent full of pitiless, gloomy, vile, psychotic joy-suckers

'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'


That friend of years a bloodsucking Judas who betrayed and stole
Uncles who rained terror with sadistic pleasures in parts unwhole
Show me nieces and find two-faced ******* with poisons in veins
Neighborhoods full of silent killers and Rapists of truthful genes

'please don't me leave here amongst demons with human faces'


A vicars' daughter wielding angst axes better than a viking
The pathetic Moors zombies tearing flesh on masters beholding
The dead-eyed Arabs salivating madly or at daggers drawn
Contemptible Men-kids with pin ****** used as King's pawns

'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'


Build me a cottage in rolling green fields with blue skies
Find me a fair maiden with a true heart and warming smiles
Show me a place that holds fairness and justice real and dear
A world with humanity we're all sisters and brothers for care

'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'


copyright@LaurenceA.9th August2018
WickedHope Dec 2014
I wish I didn't feel so empty without you

   I'm hollow
      All that's left is my core
         I'm just paper thin, tearing skin
   **All I've left is my black heart, melting away
Sometimes I forget how unstable I am.
I'm very.
- - -
Might add to this at some point.
Cunt Muffin Sep 2011
The darkness draws you in

A hidden soul, so pained

A secret sin

The rush of anger leaves you feeling drained


Thoughts swirl around you

Broken dreams and wishes emerge

There's nothing you can do

You can't resist the urge


The need for relief is suddenly so real

Searching for your safety

Fingers brush against cold hard steel

You take a deep breath and hold your arm steady


A gleam of metal

Reflected in your crying eyes

Cutting as deep as you can go

Biting back your anguished cries


Blood drips down your arm

And you receive a sick thrill in your demented soul

From such twisted harm

Tearing yourself apart really does make you whole
MonkeyZazu Sep 2014
There’s a pain in my heart
that’s slowly tearing me apart
because I saw what they did to you.
Visualizing your pain
the agony you went through
I too
am now
suffering.
Taxi to the Dark Side
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0854678/


CIA Torture - Guantanamo Bay Prisoner Lifts Lid: Russell Brand The Trews (E211)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3sl7ojcIj8E
--
Liz May 2015
Fabricated.
Fictitious.
A fake floating feeling
Falls short
Of my fleeting fantasy.

This insidious infirmity
Isn't what I intended.
I've been inflicted
With internal indisposition.
In need of an ideal identity.

Who am I without
This ****** to make me whole?
How do I heave my heart
Away from this hole?
Have you seen how hard this is?

But it's been short of a year,
Of believing I can simply be.
And before I break
Bleed me of my bane.
And for me, bear no malice.

Tightly take me
Away from my terible tempest.
Time tells me it's time to stop.
Too long I've tortured my tenemet.
Tame the tantrum tearing through me.

Sober seems strong,
But it's systematic survival.
Stopping the surrender
To something stimulating.
Learning to stand sedated.

No I'm no longer numb.
No longer neglecting my need
For new novcane.
Knowing I'll never need
This vaccine again.

You are all my ambition.
Dispelling my ailments
And afflictions.
I am hard to adore, I know.
You are my new addiction.

You have me dreaming,
Praying we are real.
Made me feel.
Don't decieve my brittle belief.
Keep me, don't leave.

I'm not the kind to fly.
For you i'd try to dive.
Unafraid I might die.
I don't hide from the night.
This is what I've been trying to find.
zebra Nov 2018
the virgins ravenous vault
college girl ******
a seething abashment
with mixed loyalties
who belongs to no one
ferocious for annihilation
*** blast
poured out from essence
spread shanks
wet spot
hot shots
meditative and gleaming

huge hearted
she is one and many
choking on desire
far flung in Turkish bath fantasies
a singing **** tearing heaps of suns
like burns and spatters
her ***, a high pitched note
his ****, rage at bay
poised hot **** ****
gasping fire

*** criminal's

foot kissing
****** biters
Sylvia Plath was referred to as "The Smith College ******" in some biographical material. I love her poetry, like incredibly, and so by the proxy of her literature I remain very much in love with her both as a writer and as a woman, albeit a vivid fantasy. That love remains amplified by her suicide as I find myself still aching about her now, 50 years after her death. I remain continually mesmerized by the appalling dread, yet sensuality of her draped corpse hanging out of the oven. Her dead body is an ineffable poem of grace in form and shuddering despair. I always want to rescue her.... It gnaws! This poem is prompted by Sylvia Plath, a Goddess of modern language, her youthful passions, and inconsolable despair.
Tara Jan 2019
The ocean,
oh it looked so blue,
shades of colour swimming around like clouds around the moon,

The water,
oh it looked so clean,
but it was just the sun's reflection making it clear,

Underneath the waves lay a graveyard,
a promise of death,
a promise of extinction,

Tombs made of plastic,
slathered in oil,
steaming with toxic waste,
and all the people know,

The damage is unfolding faster than we are evolving,

The turtles are ingesting plastic as if it were their only meal,
begging for their fins to just be free,
so they can dive through the sea,

The seals are tangled in nets, lines and lures,
plastic bags and packing bands,
till they're tied to their grave as if life were just a brief phase,

The seabirds skim the ocean waves for fish and squid,
yet plastic is their only catch of the day,
leaving them broken inside and out,
and dead on the beaches we claim are our own,

The whales are submerged beneath the sea,
eating most things that they see,
plastic, plastic everywhere beneath,
not giving them much time before they can no longer breathe,

The dolphins are gliding through the sea,
taking what they can to eat,
plastic as their only meal,
tearing them apart from within,
leaving them starving for weeks,
till the grave is the only thing they see,

Us humans are so weak,
we can’t see how deep the pain seeps,
but when nothing is left for us to eat,
and the rich have nothing left to steal,
we’ll end in the same graves as all the lives we could have healed.
Wolftrax Jul 2016
I can’t get you out of my mind
In my dreams, I think about you
There are days when I can’t go on
The thought of wanting you is strong
You make my heart want so much
I cry in my sleep, because I’m not enough

Your beauty, it keeps me interested in you
There’s nothing I can do, to shake the blues
If only I was enough, if only I could show you
How serious I am, when it comes down to you
Never have I wanted anyone so much more
Until the day I saw you, then it was for sure

You took my heart, you put these feelings inside me
I never knew I could feel that way, not about a girl
I’m not sure how to act, not sure what I should do
Just know one thing, I honestly, without a doubt, love you
I know you see things different,  please try and understand
It’s breaking my heart, I’m trying to move on, I need your hand

I’m such a mess, I just don’t know anymore what to do, anymore
I’m so in love with you, there’s nobody else, and it’s tearing me apart
You mean everything to me, everything in the world, isn’t that enough?
Or am I just another guy, who has fallen into love, only to be turned away?
Never would I hurt you, never would I betray you, I would be there every day
My heart is delicate, my heart is kind, my heart will be yours, if you’ll be mine
There's nothing worse than wanting someone so bad, and knowing it may not work out. Sometimes... love's an evil *****!
--- Oct 2013
BEFORE

Before we even started dating
I was very interested in you
I thought
"She's really unique
And cool
And into books
And smart

And cute."
Every move you made
The ease with which you made friends
And of course
How your nose was always in a book.
That interested me a lot
And I still love that
Even when I know
So much more about you.
My observations from outside.


2.  AS I WRITE

I told you I was doing something
For our six months.
It's nothing spectacular
Nothing expensive
Just time
And my thoughts
My love
I hope to put it into these words which I
Preserve for you
Uniquely mine
For uniquely you
And you alone.



3. SUSPENSE

I just told you today
And you ask for my hint
It was in one of my other poems
You read it
But didn't catch it.
It would be obvious if you did see
What the hint is.
And no, these aren't all going to be
Like this
Just basically a diary
No
They will be better.


4. LIST

I like a lot about you love
I even listed some things off to you recently.
Would you like a list?

The cute faces you constantly make
The way you fall asleep in my arms
The way you make my heart skip when you lean on me
The way your mouth moves when we kiss
Your scent that hangs on my clothes after we hang out
The way you bury your face in my chest when falling asleep
The texture of you hair
The way your face lights up when you're truly happy
The way your cheeks are fun to play with
The perfect shape of your body
Your inability to be mad at me
Your anger at people being self-destructive
Your rambles on things that you feel passionate about
Your sheer uniqueness
Your amazing beauty
The way you feel embarassed when you blush
Your quiet whimpers when I whisper that I love you in your sleep
The way you always tell someone when you're annoyed
Your ability to easily make friends
Your addiction to reading
Your crazy music taste
Your refusal to tell me games you play
Your amazing poetry
Your unique way of dressing
Your uncanny ability to look beautiful and **** in anything

And yes, there's thousands more.
But that's enough for now.


5. NIGHT

You know
I think of you always
During class
During sports
During robotics
During my dreams.
You're so great
You just sneak into my mind
And take all control from me.
I'm stuck thinking about you for awhile.
Not that I really mind.


6. SUDDENLY FRAGILE

I've known you for awhile
And now you're fragile
You seemed strong
Never once wrong
And I'm glad I grew close to you
So that I can be here for you
When you need someone
And I always want to be that someone.


7. FIVE

Today
Of all days
I'm sick.
What I wouldn't give
To kiss you once
On the cheek
Or give you a hug
Quickly
Fleetingly
I want to tell you I love you in person
But I cannot
Not today
But I will.


8. FREAKY

Do you know
How crazy it makes me feel
To just think of you?

9. ALONE

I am alone
With nothing but
My thoughts

Of you.
Obviously.


10. PICTURES

I look at the wall
The ceiling
Blank
Naked, but for some scratches
And I wish it was pictures of you
In plain sight
Wherever I look.


11. TRUE HAPPINESS

I know life is hitting you right now
Hitting you pretty hard
Being forced into therapy you don't want
Medicine that hurts your focus
And now it's ******* up your grades
Which in turn make your parents mad at you
And you seem to be despairing
And all I want to do
Is cheer you up
Make you smile
Forget your worries for just a little while.
I do what I can
But I don't think it's
Enough.
But I will keep trying
Every time I talk to you
Text you
Hug you
I hope I can bring you a little closer
To that honest smile.


12. YOU WORRY

You said it's been bothering you
You say I don't have to stay with you
Because I feel obligated
Because of your mental state.
Well
I'm glad you said it
Got it off your chest
But I would never stay because of pity
Because of guilt
No
I stay because of you.
The you-ness of you
You're just so startlingly amazing
Such a stark contrast to other interests I've had
And I love it.
And I love you.
I'm glad I could at least momentarily
Hopefully stop your worrying.


13. BRILLIANT AND BEAUTIFUL

When I think of you
I imagine gazing into your eyes
As I have done so many times
Those infinite, piercing
Beautiful eyes.
Brilliant, shining, beautiful
Just like you.
So wonderful
Calming
I dream of watching your eyes fall asleep
And waking to the very same pair
Happy and alive
Yet so real
Your beauty
And your realness.
Perfection.
I love you
I could say it a thousand timees
And mean it more every
Single
Time.


14. AGONIZING

It hurts me so much
To see you in pain
To know you're hurting.

You're trying to be more
Independant
You say
Well
Sure, be independant
But I want you to run to me
Cry on my shoulder
Because you aren't alone
And I don't want you to prepare for
A time when you could be alone.
Because I plan on staying within reach.


15. QUESTIONS

You lately have seemed
Scared
Afraid that I am staying with you for some
Pity
That I may feel.
Well, let me tell you
That is so wrong.
I feel bad for you
But that is different.
Because I could never date you through pity
I would feel like I was
Taking advantage of you
So don't worry.


16. SO MUCH I COULD NEVER SAY

I love you so
I can not describe it
The feeling
The exhilaration
From catching a glimpse of you in the hallway
I just feel the need to smile.


17. SMILE-INDUCING

Have I ever told you
That everytime you hug me from behind
I just feel uncontrollably joyful?
And when you refuse to let go
I find it cute
And I just want to stay like that


18. GOOD MORNING

A dream we both have
I want so very badly
To fall asleep holding you close
Singing to you the lullaby of my beating heart
Listening to your breath slow and relax
The perfect weight of your body against my own
And for you to be the last thing I see before I close my eyes
And the first thing I see when awakened
To make fun of your bedhead as the day's first light
Illuminates the room gently
To tell you how I love you
Before you can think anything else
Now only a dream
Someday it will happen.


19. TO RUN AWAY

I wannt to forever hold you
To hide away where nobody can find us
No schedules to disturb us
No cold to riddle our skin with
Goose-bumps
No agony tearing at our hearts
No painful reminders of the past
As the days blur into weeks
Into months
To hold you forever
In solitude.


20. WORRY

Why, love, are you so worried as of late
That you have changed?
I love every version of you
And I'm continually amazed at your ability
To cope
To prevail
But you are not strong enough alone my love.


21. LASTING

I have a feeling
That we will last
Overcome the odds
For a relationship that will endure
Past school
Past our new experiences
Past our differences
And bring us ever closer
More in love
As I feel myself falling for you more everyday


22. MARVELOUS

I never feel quite as amazing
As when I have you laying on my chest
Relaxed and falling asleep
With a blanket
A movie
Relaxation
No upcoming deadlines
Nothing else matters
Just the warmth of you relaxing on me
And my feeling of content.


23. DISCUSS

I love that we can discuss
Our different
Yet similar
Religions.
Yours as yet unnamed
Mine becoming again pure
And we can grow from this
And we become stronger.
And if we disagree about something
We can have a discussion about it
Though I keep my mouth shut
If I have the potential to start an argument
And we stay civil


24. LIST

One of your guesses as to
What I was doing when I hinted about this
A list.
Alright, you inspired me.
Words to describe you.
Beautiful
Intelligent
Different
Crazy
Startling
Lovely
Cute
­Modest
Mesmerizing
Relatable
Foreign
Sad
Lost
Stubborn
Sensitive
­And lastly for now
Theloveofmylife


25. TERRIFIED

Having you in my life is
Terrifying.
I worry so much
About your well being.
I wish I could be your knight in shining armor
But I just
Can't.
Society doesn't leave room for heroes.
It only attempts to create villains.
But you and I
We can resist it
Because society ***** anyway
And we're invincible.


26. DROWSY

When I fall asleep
The last thing on my mind is you.
And it's not just a thought that pops in then.
It starts when I am drowsy
And on the edge of sleep.
I imagine you snuggling close
Burying your face in my chest
Inhaling deeply and
Relaxing.


27. COMFORTABLE

I am glad that you can
Be relaxed enough around me
To fall asleep randomly.
And I love how, even in your sleep, you
Snuggle close
Twitch your hand three times
And whimper whenever I whisper into your ear
"I love you"


28. EXCITED

I love being with you
I love holding you close
Your breathe in my ears
The pounding of your heart
Speeding up when we kiss
Your happy sighs
Pulling me closer
Warming me in this new coming chill.


29.  HEAT

You are warm
You are hot
You keep the chill away
Heck, we could be in the snow without any significant
Warm clothing
And as long as I could hold you close
I could remain there forever.


30. PERFECT LOVE

You are my perfect love
The one for me
The two of us
Can do anything
Beat any odds stacked against us.
Overcome any hardship.
Just wait until we can escape to our life
We can win this race love
Destroy anyone who seeks to foil us
Or just ignore them
They aren't worth our notice
If they try to bring us down.


31. LIGHT

I look into your eyes today
And they are beautiful
As they always have been
I can lose myself in your eyes
The sight behind them
The intelligence
And so much more.
You're startlingly great
And I can't help but want to be around you.
There's a certain peace that settles inside you when you hear the wind whip through the forest, the sound soothes you until your muscles quiver with joy and you begin grinning with delight as the cool air runs soft fingers down your spine and sends shivers back through you. That was the feeling going through Fayowin as he stalked his prey, a nimble buck that mindlessly grazed in the snowy glade. Fayowin was a wolf, tall and regal, his fur ran a silver-white with intricate blue lines spiraling and writhing around his muscled body. His eyes glowed pure white in the night and shimmered in the daylight. The fangs lining his jaw were longer than the other wolves'... then again he was also larger than his alpha as well. Fayowin saw everything clearer and faster than the most skilled hunters in his pack, and he was also the swiftest. He should have felt proud of his uniqueness, but he felt outcast instead. The other hunters shunned him and disliked hunting alongside him, leaving Fayowin to hunt alone.

Today was no different. It was his turn to hunt and he had to hunt alone. If he failed, the pack would force him out into the cold. "If the pack starves, the hunter freezes," was the motto of his alpha, Alexei. Fayowin narrowed his white eyes and drew in the scent of the deer. As he did, he caught the hint of a she-wolf nearby, not of his pack. Distracted for an instant, he snapped back and sprinted for the deer, lunging for it and tearing into its throat and ripping out the windpipe and blood vessels all in one bite. As the smell of blood coated his senses, he began to feel uneasy and whirled around to see a silver wolf snarling at him. It was the she-wolf he had sensed earlier. She stood just a little shorter than him and had strange markings of her own: she bore black marks under her eyes and one on her forehead that resembled a paw. What struck him the most was the band around her upper foreleg. His eyes wandered as he observed her and she growled, bringing his attention back to her glaring green eyes.
"That... was my ****!" she growled. "I don't know how you managed to get it before me, and I don't know how you managed to escape my notice. Who are you?!"
Fayowin sneered and raised an eyebrow, "This, my dear, is MY ****. I've had my eyes on it for a while now. And frankly, this is my territory as well, and unless you want to become part of my territory, I'd suggest you treat me with respect."
She edged closer to him, surprised and infuriated at this male's straightforwardness. But there was something about that and his scent that appealed to her though. "I'm not leaving without this deer."
Fayowin chuckled, "It looks like you will be leaving without it, whoever you are."
"My name... is Feiria!" she licked her lips hungrily, "and that is MY deer!"
Fayowin narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he studied her. Even through her winter coat, he could see the outline of her ribcage and could smell the desperation on her scent. He saw Feiria's muscles contract as she prepared to lunge at him. He sidestepped and she landed face-first in the snow, a mere inch from the warm deer meat. She looked at him hungrily, almost pleading. Fayowin sighed and nodded his head once, after which Feiria voraciously tore into the carcass.

He slowly meandered towards the center of the clearing and flopped down into the snow. He could hear the she-wolf eating ravenously behind him as he thought of his next move. If he returned to the pack, he'd be ridiculed and forced to live in the snow. If he stayed out here he faced the same problem.

Fayowin flattened his ears back and started to doze off, still listening to Feiria eat his ****. He began dreaming of gaping mountain passes, tall forests, and warm valleys. He felt oddly warm, not freezing cold as he had expected. He didn't care though, warmth was a gift in the winter. He slept peacefully until nightfall overtook the forest and the moonlight shone down and illuminated his fur, the lines becoming like blue fire. His eyes would have glowed if they were open, but they remained oblivious to the change in scenery until a cold wind blew through his fur and he shivered awake. He nearly jumped when he realized why he was so warm: the she-wolf lay curled up, pressed against him, sound asleep. He tilted his head slightly as he watched her sleep, probably the most peaceful she'd been in a long time. Fayowin would've hated to ruin his gift to her, albeit an unwilling one.
Feiria woke up soon after midnight, and gazed fearfully into Fayowin's glowing white eyes, taking in his
Cynical stare and his glowing body. She whispered, "I've heard of your kind..."
he looked curiously at her, "my kind?"
"the star wolves.."
he averted his gaze, "Never heard of them.. I'm just a normal wolf.."
Feiria glared at him, "You're glowing, *******.. Not normal. Unless.... Unless your whole pack is made of star wolves!" her face seemed to light up as she said it.
Fayowin whipped his head around, "No! I'm the only one like this..." he looked solemnly down at his feet as he finished.
She blinked, dumbfounded. Clearing her throat, she said, "I really should get back to my pack. They'll be worried about me if I stay out for much longer." she glanced at the massive deer behind them and sighed quietly.
"Your whole pack is starving...aren't they?" said Fayowin quietly.
Feiria nodded and he stood up and walked through the snow silently towards the deer. "you'll need to lead me to your pack if they're to get this meat."
Feiria blinked again, then nodded, getting up and starting off  
Towards the north. Fayowin gripped the deer's neck and drug the carcass behind him as he walked. After a half hour of walking, Feiria howled long and low, signaling her pack that she was near. Fayowin sighed as he heard their howls respond. He thought, there will be no howls for me tonight...
As they neared her pack's clearing, a group of young wolves sprinted towards them, rushing past Feiria and surrounding Fayowin. "Who is this outsider, Feiria? Why did you bring him here?"
there were five of them and they all went into attack mode, growling and circling him.
Feiria attempted to stop them before they got into a fight, but one of them pounced, and in a flash Fayowin had him pinned to the ground with his fangs around the wolf's neck. Fayowin watched the wolves around him react, stepping back and glancing at each other. Feiria shouted at them to stop but they didn't seem to hear her immediately, backing down only as Fayowin's growl tore through the trees, echoing throughout the forest
. They finally heard her, "he's a star wolf!" by now a crowd had gathered around them, Feiria's packmates watching Fayowin closely. He let go of the young wolf beneath his paws, who quickly scampered away, and Fayowin sat up straight and tall, his markings and eyes glowing for all to see. The wolves ooh'd and ahh'd amongst themselves before the alpha stepped forward and looked him up and down. "You killed this deer, yes?"
"I did."
"Why bring it here? We are strangers to you."
Fayowin glanced at Feiria, who shifted, uncomfortable with the silence. "I brought it here because i could tell that this pack needed the meat more than my own." Fayowin looked directly at Feiria and continued, "besides... She saw it first."
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(End of day one of writing, really enjoyed it, look forward to writing again)
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Fayowin perched high upon an rock outcropping, overlooking the clearing below and the wolves within. The alpha had allowed him to stay, grateful for the meat. Feiria was pressed against him again, but this time Fayowin didn't mind. He enjoyed the warmth that she provided and felt at ease around her. She nuzzled his cheek affectionately, a move that surprised him enough that he turned to face her, brushing her nose in the process. He gazed fondly into her eyes for a moment before standing. "I have to return to my pack."
Feiria looked shocked, "No, stay here with us. We could use a hunter like you. Plus you're a star wolf, and it doesn't seem like your pack appreciates that."
He let the words sink in before replying, "I have to go. I'll return in the morning." Seeing the desperate and doubtful look on her face, he added, "I promise. I will come back."
Fayowin walked to the edge of the forest, the glow of his body soon disappearing from Feiria's view.
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...
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F­ayowin sprinted relentlessly back to his territory, smelling the familiar and not so pleasant scents of his packmates. The smell of blood ran thick in the air as he neared the clearing. The moonlight cast eerie shadows around him and he could feel the eyes of the wolves watching him as he reached the gore pile. The mound of bones and rotting flesh dripped blood into the white snow.
"You're late. And emptypawed. You know what that means, filth." the voice was that of his alpha, Marroy, who stood three feet tall at the shoulder, a whole foot and a half shorter than Fayowin. His fur was a mottled black with a grey underbelly.
Fayowin bared his fangs, the longest being three inches long, and he growled, "My name.. is Fayowin."
Marroy cackled in the darkness, "So straightforward. That's unlike you. No matter, you failed to bring us fresh meat. As punishment, you'll be reminded why we protect you in the first place."
Fayowin heard growls emanating from the trees. The pack of around 25 wolves was massive compared to other packs, and there were enough hunters to go around. Fayowin took a step back and let his eyes adjust so he could see them in the trees.
"You don't protect me, Marroy! You fear me!"
Marroy laughed again, "Not from where I'm standing, Mutt. You look pretty frightened." Fayowin took another step back. "Run! Run! Give us some entertainment!"
The wolves started bounding out of the trees and began chasing Fayowin out of the clearing. They seemed to be pouring from every shadow. He ran faster than ever before, the trees blurring past him as he tried to get away. He ran for what seemed like an eternity before seeing the snowy valley at the edge of the forest. He added a burst of speed and instantly regretted it. A rock beneath the snow tripped him and pain shot up his left foreleg. He tumbled end over end in a heap of blue and white, coming to a stop twenty feet away. Fayowin heard the pack coming for him and he tried to crawl away, but to no avail; the pain was too much. He whimpered as he was surrounded, and shut his eyes tight as he felt them bite and claw at him, retreating only after there was a ****** pool around the star wolf. Marroy walked slowly up to him after they had gone and said, "I hope you die out here. If you aren't, we'll make sure that changes." Then the alpha left him there, cold, ******, broken and alone.
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* (End of Day two/Start of day three of writing and i'm really hooked on this, I believe this may be one of my better stories...)*
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Feiria lay silently on the rock outcropping above the pack and she thought of the star wolf. Something about the breeze brought thoughts to her mind.  
Feiria lifted her nose into the air as the smell of blood became present. She sniffed intently and heard her packmates do the same. She looked in the direction that Fayowin had left in and saw a dark form slowly shambling through the shadowy flora towards her. As it neared her she could see that it was dripping a dark liquid, trailing it through the snow in a scarlet path. "Its Fayowin.." she thought to herself. "Why are his eyes so dark? Why isn't he glowing?"
she rushed to his side and the smell of his blood was almost overwhelming. There were numerous bites and cuts all over him and his left foreleg seemed broken.
Feiria called for the healer, an older female named Sheya, and supported Fayowin as they walked to the glade and waited for the healer. Fayowin collapsed in the center of the clearing, the moonlight hitting him directly, making the blood seem black against his white fur.
Feiria whimpered helplessly, waiting for Fayowin to answer, but his eyes seemed so lifeless that
She felt it was almost a false hope. When Sheya finally arrived, the blood had stopped flowing and his breathing had slowed until he was asleep. When the healer examined him, she looked puzzled.
"what's the matter, Elder?"
Sheya pondered a moment before saying, "His wounds have healed. I'd say its a miracle, seeing as he lost so much blood."
Feiria examined the sleeping wolf herself and found the elders words to be true; there wasn't a scratch left on him. "Leave him here, the sunlight will warm him once daylight comes and his fur is thicker than ours so the cold will not affect him as much." the gathered wolves sat in silence as Feiria washed the blood from his fur with snow and lay down next to him, pressing her body against his. The blue lines on Fayowin dimmed and brightened in tune with his heartbeat, and Feiria listened as her own beat matched it.
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...End of day 3....
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Fayowin felt like he was in another world, this one so much quieter, but at the same time he could sense every noise, every movement, every vibration. His fur was no longer the bright white it once was, but rather a deep black with crimson lines flowing round him. He was lying down, surrounded by a wolf pack, Feiria pressed against him for warmth. He saw, or rather sensed her spirit energy, a type of green fire that outlined her entire body as she slept. Fayowin stood up, thinking to wake her and let her know he was alright, but she hadn't moved. And neither had he; his white furred body remained as it was a moment ago, but he was looking at it as if in another body. He took a step back as he realized he was roaming about in his spirit form. He looked around at the pack and none of the gathered wolves seemed to notice him. He exited the circle of onlookers and gazed up at the falling moon, watching it descend into the horizon, chased away by the rays of the sun coming over the mountaintops to the east. As the sun peeked over the ridge, Fayowin caught something out of the corner of his eye, a dark mass that didn't fit right with the rest of the environment. He looked and saw two sets of glowing purple eyes in the shade. He called out to them, hoping they might hear. "Hey! Can you see me?"
The eyes looked at each other and then back at him, staring for a moment before turning and running.
"Hey, wait!!" Fayowin called after them and began to chase them deeper and deeper into the mysterious forest.The beings moved faster than Fayowin had anticipated, disappearing soon after the chase had begun. Fayowin stood there in the middle of the woods, panting and searching for the elusive forms. After a moment he saw them at the very edge of his vision, their eyes glowing brighter, almost as if they were taunting him forward. Snarling, Fayowin bolted towards them and they led him on a winding path marked by a barely discernable scent trail. The smell was that of burnt wood and crushed pine needles and was oddly alluring to Fayowin as he ran. It seeemed as if he were running for ages, the sun and moon rotating numerous times around him as he traveled over mountains and rivers, through forests and valleys. On the thirteenth solar rotation, the figures finally stopped, joined by eleven other figures surrounding a circular rock with vines and overgrowth covering its base.
As he neared the figures, he saw that they all looked like him, long furred and covered in glowing lines. "Star wolves... Like me..."
The wolves all surrounded the dais and watched him with razor sharp eyes, watching his every move. As he gazed back, Fayowin noticed that each of them had some form of a trident mark right below their left eye, the color matching the lines tracing their bodies. He felt the urge to move forward, as if an instinct were telling him to stand in the center of the circle. Fayowin stood, all eyes on him as he waited for whatever was about to come.
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....I have nothing to say to you HP... I dislike you at the moment....
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Nightfall was coming swiftly, the moon and the stars swirling into place above them, reaching their peak and then halting completely. All of time and
Michelle Graham Apr 2012
like a static shock i feel you
running up my spine
tingling the hair at the nape of my neck
something harsh and unexpected
but unexpectedly pleasant
snapping me back into the present
eyes freshly opened and wide
like a still from a movie
quaking on the bed
feeling my limbs tighten against you
something soft and yielding
but not fully, pressing back
pushing my core deep into the down
we fight for a moment
tearing at each other with teeth
with claws
with fists, open, closed,
before the tension breaks
and calm floods over us with
no slight pause, sending us both
reeling into oblivion, all extremities
stilled as we stare gasping into the
dark nothingness that surrounds us
heads thrown back and hands clasped
together as we slip away
floating no where, watching galaxies
being ****** into black holes
and stars exploding into limbo
before we find ourselves back
in bed, abruptly, chests heaving and
slick with sweat
where we try to put ourselves back together
fruitlessly
Ah, Yorkshire, thou art purer than Coventry;
and thy promises whiter; than my fluid poetry.
Thou art braver, prudent, and all the way more intelligent;
thy lands are mightier; and perhaps in every possible way-more imminent.
Thou art sincere-and so more delicate than wine, and thoughtful;
Thou adored my words, and made everything else healing, and more beautiful.

In my heart but there might have been no Yorkshire at all-
had I attended not one Coventry last fall.
I witnessed not-at t'at time, all t'is rude twilight-and toughness and madness;
and every chapped breath it had in its roughness, and hilarious-though indeed fake, felicity.
No soul has even bits of a heart, here, to forgive others' soreness,
No being wants to share; no human lives in joy, nor simplicity.
No delight indeed; as I stream my way through every roads;
Everyone is either busy with their selfishness or their coats.
No living is cared for; for humans are phantoms at night and on morns;
Vulnerability is mocked, and demised and often slyly torn.
Ah! Coventry is but a sphere of hell!
For even hell is still lighter when has it not hellfire;
As well cities are, when there is no scoundrel nor liar;
But Coventry is not at all tender;
Its wicked gasp is alive, and never to heartily surrender.
It falls for glory; it bows to such fears for pleasure;
And wanes by the light of whose death; the end of whose allure.
But thou art true-thou art as shy as every flash of virtue;
Thou art indeed-everything t'at is solemnly agreeable and brand new.
Ah, and just now-I had dreams of a fine image of thee;
Smiling within thy fullest verdure, bushes, and lavish undergrowth.
And thy summer is but vivid and friendlier;
Healing every sore heart, and turning 'em all, merrier.
Thou adored the nouns and verbs I wrote,
and admired such simple notions I quoted;
Thou shine upon me-asthe light that shall makest me grow
and the promising dim, faraway region, that lets me glow.
O, Yorkshire, this is still but too early in the transparent evening;
But I am deeply endorsed yet, by t'is poetry writing-
And with thy soul that remains but too witty,
Tearing me away, but with loveliness-
from my cautious present engagement,
Thy charms might be just too hard to bear,
for thy tongue is too sweet;
and thy veracity too chaotic, ye' imminent.
In thee shall I find peace-of that I am convinced,
Peace whose soul is calm, neat and on all occasions, careful-
Unlike t'is bustle which is at times perpetual, and sorrowful;
Unlike t'is very city of Coventry,
Which is damp with exultant bareness, and haziness,
In many ways exalted, but indeed too proud;
And its tongue which is blurred with sin and poison-
Its all-too-loud excitement makes everything but faint,
And at times sends my heart to exile, sends my heart to pain,
In every possible way too unlike thee,
With an imagery, and coaxing voices so sweet
Thou shall leave all my poems bright and freshly lit,
Even though I am still here, even though we are still yet-to meet.

Coventry is too proud and vibrant-yes, too vibrant,
Amidst its own foolishness, which sadly made itself formerly too elegant.
Too elegant to me-in various shapes, and keenly cloaked in unseen deceit,
But only by some beings, whom I was to meet, and my breath to greet.
And as I wake up to an early morning hour,
the plain summer strangely makes me thirst for honest water.
And should I love still-one intelligence t'at is so bitterly repugnant?
I shall certainly not; I shall turn to thee, Yorkshire, who is truer ye' far above, tolerant.
Ah, Yorkshire, but honesty is something Coventry promises not;
for its soul has been maliciously beheaded, and twitched,
It has been paled, corrupted, and despaired-
by its own claws, derived from the jaws of those evil souls
Veiled by their even still inhuman, disguises,
And shall still be wicked, otherwise.
In t'is sea of hate, and these waves of despondency,
I shall think of thee with tantalising depth and scrutiny,
Though thou art still imprisoned in my soul,
Thou who hath flattered and accepted me as a whole.
But Coventry is-still, accidental with some of its bindings,
For mortal as thou art, itself, and is unable to escape its fate,
Still I canst think only of the beauty of thy linings,
And upon thy lands shall I venture to fill my plate.
Ah, Yorkshire, remember that virtue is in thy hand,
but neither is vice-thy dormant enemy, is in its therein,
Virtue who is vile to all of t'is world's inconsolable men,
like in Coventry, as deemed it is, unreasonable and ungenerous, within.
Virtue which is tragically abandoned, in its pursuit of honour;
virtue which was rich, but flattened, and dismayed and disfigured
within the course of one unsupervised hour.
Ah, York, Yorkshire, when shall I ever taste the grandeur
And the very superiority of thy dignity?
For in yon picture, thou art still but a comely neighbour,
Which endorses and attests to my mute, yet unaffected-virginity.

Ah, but Coventry shall despise thee, and with its stubbornness
and overwhelming pride, shall jostle and taunt thee;
Shall defect and isolate thee-when I am but by thy side,
But God be with me still, and blind shall not, my virtuous sight.
Detesting and confronting thee for the remainders of years-as 'tis to be,
Which for thee lie ahead; as how hath it deluded me-just now!
I, who, disconcertingly, placed my heart within its sacred vow,
hath been robbed of my satisfactions, and utmost fortune,
All were perused in centuries and gone in one moon.
Ah, Yorkshire, shall I continue my poetry here-but call out endlessly to thee?
And shall I abandon this tiny caprice of mine-which is a fine, tiny desire of glory
And let myself on the loose, and for evermore be in search
of thee, whom I shall've lost-under the very indulgence of their mirth?
O, I think not!
For I shall mount my poetry-and achieve my silent dreams,
I shall take him with me, if allowed am I-to conquer him,
And make him and thee mine, just like I hath made my poetry,
And be thy light; and thy spiritual and endless reciprocal adoration
All day and night, at the end of our quest for destiny
Wherein I shall dwell, and thrive as my intellect be granted-its long-lost coronation.
O, Yorkshire, for within thy hands now I shall lie my faith-
and trudge along thy forking paths, unto the light of my fate.

Ah, Yorkshire, I am infatuated with these paintings-
these very paintings of thy lush green lands,
And of myself wandering and skulking idly about thy moors;
With my best frock, and his fingers, the one I love, entwined in my hand
As lights procured and on our storming out of yonder wooden doors.
I am shining like a bee is-upon the sweet finding of its honey;
but in whose tale 'tis like thee-to sweet and unpardonable to me.
Be with me, Yorkshire, and be with me forever, only,
As I leave behind this faint malice and commence my journey;
I shall be with thee, and my poems shall be free,
And t'is bitterness of winds shall be no more tormenting me,
Furthermore-be them what they desire to be;
But let me write; and play my song as beautifully as yon naive bee.

Ah, Yorkshire, and wait, wait again for me;
But before let me sink again into a deep sleep,
and tease thee again in my dreams;
Read me once more-the very passages of thy indolent poetry,
Take me out of my stiffness; swing me out of abhorrent Coventry.
Coventry shall be envious, and waiting forever for thy demise;
but honesty is honesty-and one that has no lies,
for thy virtue is clear as thy Western gem,
which is to God, shall always be virtue, all the same.
Tearing at my heart
Ripping me apart
The air just isn't enough
I can't breath
A hand squeezing my heart
The pains of anxiety
I don't know how to deal
Slowly my head starts to ache
All because of my mistake
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
O darkest night, what are you for?
Sometimes to wrestle, sometimes to rest
But always to cling to Jesus more

Though senses are dulled, desires awaken
Aching grows stronger, inhibitions are taken
Less seeing, less hearing, more hunger, more longing
Answers are dimming while questions are thronging

More drilling, more filling
The canyons of my soul
More boring, more pouring
Himself into the hole
More stretching, more catching
Away my gasping breath
More tearing, more sharing
In the union of His death
"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them *******, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ--the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead."  Philippians 3:7-11
May 9, 2012, 7:01:02 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




The rivers of winter ice had melted with spring sunshine's awakening and the noises of the forest announced the awakening of the fauna. a young fox stretched her long legs and fluffed up her tail as she yawned awake. this winter had been a lonely one for her, as she did not have a mate. throughout the winter she had felt the tingling feelings of her ****** urges creep between her legs and she moaned slightly as she felt them creeping there again.  she stepped slowly out of her den and took a cool breath of the spring air, bringing her the scents of the amorous flowers and the frolicking prey. she watched two birds in courting flight above har and she sighed at her loneliness. the fox hung her head low and walked softly forward. at some point she closed her eyes and yet kept walking, a few tears of longing falling from her eyes. the tingling urges grew stronger and she fought to keep them at bay. she kept walking a bit, aimlessly, though. she cried out as she stumbled over a heavy rock.
She tumbled into the nearby brook and felt a sharp stone cut her right hind leg. she clambered on to the bank, shivering and soaking wet with the chilled water. she attempted to stand and felt a fiery sting to her leg. she looked and saw a shallow **** marring her orange fur. "ow... ow..." she whimpered as she walked on. as the sun peaked over her, she felt her stomach's pleading for sustenance and she groaned. she could faintly smell a rabbit nearby and crouched low, going over how to stalk her prey. she sniffed for it and it seemed to be close, on the other side of a group of trees. she flanked around as best she could and spotted the furball. she licked her lips hungrily and pounced. the rabbit was dead in an instant as she tore its throat out. she chomped at it once and then felt a feeling of dread. she gulped once and heard a wolf growl nearby. i'm wounded... i can't avoid it now.
.
she thought. she heard the wolf running toward her and was bowled over by it. when she stopped
Rolling she was on her back. looking up at the wolf, a young grey, white chested wolf, at the beginning of his manhood. he snarled at his prey as she whimpered beneath him. then to her surprise, he sniffed at her and tilted his head, the tenseness of the hunt gone from his yellow eyes. the wolf took a step back and looked her up and down, stopping as he saw something. he spoke softly, almost caringly, "you are female... and in heat... i apologize for interrupting your meal."
the fox looked at him curiously, "You...?"
he glanced at her and finished her thought. "...do not harm females. it is a code of honor i choose to live by."
she sniffed at him, "you have no mate, no lover."
his breath caught. "nor do you, young fox, lest he'd be satiating your body's desires, and his as well."
she felt the tingling between her legs again and attempted to say something, but was stopped. the wolf said, "nor do i wish to take advantage of females either."
The fox replied suggestively, "you spared my life, surely theres some way i could repay you, handsome wolf."
the wolf looked at her, eyes dilated and his breathing rough. he shook his head, "no.. i couldnt. its not my place."
she could feel the urges burning inside her, she wanted to release them, she wanted this wolf to release her. "chivalrous, i see. then, dear wolf, alleviate my longing, my pain, and i shall alleviate your own."
the wolf took a step closer, his own longing feeding his fire. "beautiful fox... your offer intigues me... you- you are wounded..." she looked and saw her leg still bleeding. "let me aide you, dear fox." he took a few steps and lay beside her, licking her wound. with each lick, the pain receded and was replaced by a wave of pleasant ache. the bleeding stopped and he stopped licking, for the moment. he sniffed her, his cold nose brushing the swollen flesh, and as it quivered between her legs, he knew she was ready for him. "my den is close by, young fox."
She nuzzled against his chest and felt his heart pounding. she took his paw and pressed it against her own chest, letting him feel her heart. "you know we cant wait that long, here.. in this group of trees." she gestured to the spot a few feet away. the wolf quickly walked into the tangle of trees, followed by the fox. the wolf had hardly stepped inside the treeline before the fox began nudging at the furry bulge between his legs. "you're not quite ready yet, dear wolf." the wolf whimpered a few times as she licked at it, taking his smooth member in her mouth and enticing it with her tongue. once it was throbbing in its full glory, she licked one last time and said, "now you're ready." and raised herself in preparation for him. he got into position on top of her and with one paw she guided him inside her. she gasped as he stretched her a little. she glanced over her shoulder and
realized that he wasnt that much bigger than her. he looked nervous and she realized something,
This is his first time... mine too... lets make this memorable.. she experimented with different positions, and after finding her favorite, set about making this wolf howl.
the wolf ****** slowly at first, drawing out the ecstasy. only when she began to whimper amorously did he begin to ****** harder, faster. she joined him, as he pulled back, she leaned forward, leaving only his tip inside her. when he ******, she leaned back on him with a wet squish. the wolf's tongue lolled and his eyes were glazed over in sweet agony. he howled softly at first, and as the ****** came, he howled again, echoing with the fox's cries as the ecstasy reached its ****** and rocked their bodies. the wolf staggered slightly at the passionate waves of ******. he pulled out his member and looked at his mate. "come with me to my den, so we can sleep, dear fox." the fox looked at him and nodded, grateful.
* * *
The fox and the wolf walked quietly to his den, set inside a secluded cluster of trees. the den itself was set in the ground, like a cavern, just large enough for the two of them to lie down comfortably. "its going to get cold tonight," said the wolf. "we should... share body heat." he had a faint twinkle in his eyes as he glanced nervously at her. when she tilted her head to him, the wolf looked down at his paws. the fox licked his muzzle and laid down next to him. the wolf's grey fur was thick, and she was  already beginning to feel warmer. she felt the wolf's heart beat a little faster, and he curled around her. his furry tail wrapped around the fox and she purred slightly as she nuzzled him and rested her head on his foreleg. for a moment they lay there, eyes closed, listening to the others' breathing, when he whispered to her, "i never did catch your name, young fox."
she grinned at him, "my name's Sasha, the only fox in this forest. and what be your name, dear wolf?"
The wolf opened one eye slightly to look at her, "my name is Ronan, i'm the last wolf of my pack."
she held him in her gaze a few beats and replied, "i haven't seen many wolves 'round these parts, where do you come from, Ronan?"
the grey sighed and said, "Farther north, over the mountains and into ice country. the food became scarce and the pack withered away, all but me. i treveled over the hills and mountains, through forests and grassland, and i kept going, finally stopping here. what of you? you said yourself you were the only fox in this forest."
Sasha swished her tail back and forth for a moment before, "i was separated from my family during a blizzard. i- i couldn't see anything, and i couldn't hear anything over the wind. i wandered aimlessly in the whiteout, tripping and stumbling until i bumped into something big. then again, i was just a kit and everything was big to me, but i looked up and saw a pair of eyes looking at me. i was so scared the snow beneath me turned yellow.
The monster bent over and picked me up by the scruff of my neck and carried me for a long time. i was so exhausted i fell asleep in its grip. when i woke up i was in a chilly den. i looked and realized that the monster had been a snow-white she-wolf. she sat at the enterance to the den and kept looking outside, waiting for something. when the snowstorm cleared out, she turned to me and said, 'little fox. have you a family?' i shook my head as i realized they were gone. from then on, the wolf raised me and taught me how to survive. then one day a few years ago... she was gone..."
Ronan was watching the fox as she told the story. "i'm sorry."
"don't be, ronan. ever since she left ive been alone. no fox to breed me, no one for a lover. until you came along..."
ronan licked her muzzle, "no need for loneliness now." sasha smiled and was soon asleep, warmed by her lover.
*
The sun rose and shone brightly into the entrance of the den the next morning, waking sasha from her slumber. she yawned and felt around for the grey. she felt nothing. she stood up and looked around the empty den. did he... leave me? a single tear fell when she imagined the possibility. "no.... please no..." she whimpered. her breath caught as she heard something rustling the grass outside the den. sasha shrank back and hid behind her tail, peeking over it slightly. she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and feel it rising in her throat as the rustling got closer and closer. she squeaked, "who... who's there?"
she flinched as a dark mass blocked the sunlight, its shadow stretching across the wall. the mass stepped slowly forward and sasha shut her eyes tight, fearing what might come next. "sasha?" it was ronan. "what's the matter?"
she gasped at him before rushing forward and burying her muzzle in his chest fur. "i thought you'd left me..."
with a paw, ronan stroked the fur on her back. "i'm a wolf, ***. loyalty and chivalry are the only things i know." she buried herself deeper in his fur and scolded herself for not realizing that. "i caught breakfast, i figured you'd be hungry after i interrupted your meal yesterday." she looked behind him and saw a small pile of ****** rabbits. sasha licked her lips hungrily. "its all yours, dear fox." she looked gratefully at Ronan before pouncing on the pile of carcasses, tearing into one and bloodying her maw. ronan watched her with pleasant  affection. the den was filled with the sounds of flesh being rendered from bone and the snapping of Sasha's teeth. she feasted upon the **** until she could eat no more, her belly now filled. two rabbits still lay uneaten, and ronan devoured them slowly, savoring the ****** meat as it slipped down his gullet. sasha lay nuzzled up against him while he ate, toying at his tail and
otherwise teasing at him. he gave her a look of amusement and somehow got into a game of tag with her.
He chased her around the den and she dodged his paw as he reached for her. when he did finally touch her, sasha dove between his legs and poked his furry belly. leaving him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. he then chased sasha outside and they continued their game within the cluster of trees around them. sasha laughed, a liquid smooth, crystal clear laugh. ronan watched her jump around him, the sun's rays catching her fine orange fur in such a way that it seemed almost like fire. he watched her a moment and loosed a soft howl. she's so beautiful... he thought.
* *
Paul Jones Jun 2017
I sit on the fence       that keeps two sides from
tearing each other      down. I built that fence.
10:00 - 02/06/17
State of mind: doubtful; contemplative.

Thoughts: from thinking - about how I am sometimes accused of sitting on the fence and not having much of an opinion on current affairs.

Every conflict needs a mediator, a diplomat to quell or cool the heat of an argument.

Questions: what is the value in seeing all perspectives of an argument only to side with none? Is that really indifference or is there something deeper to do with acknowledging that there is no truth, only interpretation?

09:50 - 04/06/17
Afterthoughts: change is important because it encourages diversity. Conflict stimulates change.

I think what I am developing with this thought is more to do with the conflict in shaping what people believe is the best environment to exist in. In reality, there are many. There should be many and we should be free to move between them.

The internet is an environment. Some people ascribe to it, others don't. But both it and alternatives are important. Many facets has the diamond.

I believe the fence is symbolic for realising that there is not one perfect way, but many and is wrong to tear down the diversity we have in favour of a singular way.
Jane Doe Apr 2014
Do not. Think. About. Him.
I’m really ******* stressed, he says get dressed to cover the scars of the lies they’ve placed upon your head with sounds of the still screaming dead.
I’m really ******* stressed, because I have a million things to do and a million and one reasons to stop thinking about you.
Do. Not. Think. About. Him.
Your breath still lingers on my skin, and I can still feel you within me.
Do not think about him.
Your gentle fingers pulling at my hair and I’m here alone in this small town and I’m about to drown in the memory of your hands.
I’ve got to study, I’ve got to write, I’ve got to type and try to figure out the differences in my head between wrong and right.
Do not think about him.
I’ve drunken too many shots to fire anything close to fire into your iced over veins
I am trying to restrain myself from sounding too much like a sap, but perhaps there’s room enough in your heart for two beside me, besides her, beside you.
I’m likely to linger in this this place for too long. I’m more than likely going to hold you down with my tongue and torture you until you give in.
Do not think about him.
he’s out of your league, he can’t see your bones but he can feel them between you two.
I’ve still found myself in cased in chaos and caring too much about what you think, when obviously you don’t.
Because if you did you’d have stayed, if you did you wouldn’t have left me if you did I wouldn’t be standing so close to the edge because you wouldn’t have mapped out a way for me to get to it, you wouldn’t have plugged the location into my GPS and locked the doors on my car, no if you cared you wouldn’t have asked me so quickly to get dressed, ******* I’m stressed and I can’t win..
Do not think about him.
you’ve become a mantra, a saying to keep myself warm, you’ve become the warning sign that carries with it nothing but harm, because like previously stated you’ve sedated me into driving myself of a cliff and  my unconscious body can’t swim.
Do. Not. Think. About. Him
They say I write about myself too much, they don’t know that you’re my crutch. They’re right, I’m willing to try and branch out and stick myself to the source of my issues but of course I know what that entails and the extra miles between your heart and mine have been tearing me apart, but if we had this discourse it would be about discording and according to you I’d be getting too close for comfort, and I’m still losing myself in the opportunity of something more and I can’t hold myself up with these hands . I can’t stand the idea for loosing you and unwinding but I suppose that’s what it’s come to hasn’t it?
I’m all over the place at this point, I could spout out more rhymes but honestly, you were right when you said you were running out of “time and gin,” like it’s a big thing, like it’s more important for me to be there than for me to be thin, and the sin that keeps us together has been the same since the start, and the extra miles between your heart and mine is what’s keeping me together, you’re keeping me together. You’re tearing me apart.
I started with a bad deed, and now I’ve got about nine, I can’t count the amount of times I’ve tried to stop myself from tying off the loss ends and starting again, and it’s about time I stand up for myself it’s about time I start to think things through. The only things that are separating us, is me and I and you.
Hold on to me for another minute, hold on to me for another day, I can’t promise you forever because nothing good ever stays. I can’t reach you while you’re falling, but if it helps I’m falling too.
The only difference is the traps I’m not falling for, mainly the ones set by you.
Michael R Burch Aug 2023
Sappho Translations by Michael R. Burch

These are Michael R. Burch's modern English translations of the immortal Sappho of ******, the great lyric poet who was called The Tenth Muse by her ancient peers. The other nine muses were goddesses, so Sappho was held in the very highest regard!



A short revealing frock?
It's just my luck
your lips were made to mock!
—Sappho, fragment 177, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.
—Sappho, fragment 47, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.
—Sappho, fragment 22, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Gongyla, wear, I beg,
that revealing white dress …
—Sappho, fragment 22, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Bed the bride with the beautiful feet,
or bring her to me!
—Sappho, fragment 103b, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



That hayseed ****
bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!
—Sappho, fragment 57, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I long helplessly for love. Gazing into your eyes not even Hermione compares. Who is your equal? I compare you only to goldenhaired Helen among mortal women. Know your love would free me from every care, and keep me awake nightlong beside dewy deltas.
—Sappho, fragment 22, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Aphrodite, do you not love the windlike dances
of beautiful, apple-cheeked Abanthis?
—Sappho, fragment 301, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I am an acolyte
of wile-weaving
Aphrodite.
—Sappho, fragment 12, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Sing, my sacred tortoiseshell lyre;
come, let my words
accompany your voice.
—Sappho, fragment 118, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



She keeps her scents
in a dressing-case.
And her sense?
In some undiscoverable place.
—Sappho, fragment 156, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?
—Sappho, fragment 36, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



May I lead?
Will you follow?
  Foolish man!
Ears so hollow,
minds so shallow,
never can!
—Sappho, fragment 169, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



With my two small arms, how can I
think to encircle the sky?
—Sappho, fragment 52, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



The black earth absorbed grief-stricken tears along with the interred sons of Atreus.
—Sappho, fragment 297, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Menelaus, son of Atreus, lies returned to the black earth, finally beyond agony.
—Sappho, fragment 27, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Gold does not rust,
yet my son becomes dust?
—Sappho, fragment 52, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Atthis, so charming in the bedroom, but otherwise hateful, proud and aloof, her teeth clicking like castanets.
—Sappho, fragment 87a, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I sought the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.
—attributed to Sappho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Mnemosyne was stunned into astonishment when she heard honey-tongued Sappho, wondering how mortal men merited a tenth Muse.
—Antipater of Sidon, translated by Michael R. Burch



Mere air,
my words' fare,
but intoxicating to hear.
—Sappho, cup inscription, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



What cannot be swept
------------------------------------- aside
must be wept.
—Sappho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Pain
drains
me
to
the
last
drop
.
—Sappho, fragment 37, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?
—Sappho, fragment 102, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


Spartan girls wear short skirts
and are brazen.
—attributed to Sappho, translator unknown



Someone, somewhere
will remember us,
I swear!
—Sappho, fragment 147, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



No droning bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!
—Sappho, fragment 146, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent
yet here I lie—alone.
—Sappho, fragment 168b, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Sappho, fragment 136
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

after Aaron Poochigian

Nightingale,
how handsomely you sing
your desire,
sweet crier
of blossoming spring.

2.
Nightingale, enticing-songed harbinger of spring. Sing!



Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.

2.
Eros, the limb-loosener,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.



Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I lust!
I crave!
F-ck me!



Sappho, fragment 93
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gongyla, wear, I beg,
that revealing white dress
when you come,
so that desire surrounds you,
descending in circling flight as you dance
to the strains of Abanthis's lyre
while I compose hymns to your loveliness,
both of us stirred by your beauty
and that dress!
Wherefore I once prayed to Aphrodite: I want
and she reprimanded me.



Sappho, fragment 24
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Don't you remember, in days bygone,
how we did such things, being young?

2.
Remember? In our youth
we too did such reckless things.

3.
Remember how we did such things in our youth? Many lovely and beautiful things in the city of dangerous enticements! We lived face-to-face with great daring amid those who inflict pain. Daring even to believe in golden-haired, slender-voiced Love …




The fragment below seems to be one of the most popular with translators …

Sappho, fragment 145

If you're squeamish, don't **** the beach rubble.―Mary Barnard
If you dont like trouble dont disturb sand.―Cid Corman
Don't move piles of pebbles.―Diane J. Rayor
Don't stir the trash.―Guy Davenport
If you're squeamish don't trouble the rubble!―Michael R. Burch
Let sleeping turds lie!―Michael R. Burch
Leave every stone unturned!―Michael R. Burch
Roll no stones, let them all gather moss!―Michael R. Burch
do not move stones―Anne Carson



Sappho, fragment 33
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Golden-crowned Aphrodite,
don't be a glory-hog!
Share a little of your luck with me!



Sappho, fragment 133 (Wharton 133, Barnard 31)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Blushing bride, brimful of rose-petaled love,
brightest jewel of the Goddess of Paphos,
come to the bridal bed,
tenderly entice your bridegroom.
May Hesperus lead you starry-eyed
to stand awestruck before the silver throne of Hera,
Goddess of Marriage!

2.
Of all the stars the fairest,
Hesperus,
lead the maiden straight to her bridegroom's bed,
honoring Hera, the goddess of marriage.

3.
The evening star
is of all stars the brightest,
the fairest.



Sappho, fragment 160
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I shall now sing skillfully
to please my companions.

2.
I shall sing these songs skillfully
to please my companions.

3.
Goddess,
let me sing skillfully
to please my companions.



Sappho, fragment 102 (Lobel-Page 102 / Diehl 114 / Bergk 90 / *** 87 / Barnard 12)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?

2.
Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?
Sly Aphrodite incited me!



Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
May the gods prolong the night
   —yes, let it last forever!—
as long as you sleep in my sight.

2.
I prayed that blessed night
might be doubled for us.



Sappho, fragment 123
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Just now I was called,
enthralled,
by golden-sandalled
dawn…



Sappho, fragment 22
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I bid you, Abanthis, grab your lyre
and sing of Gongyla, while desire
surrounds you. Sing of the lovely one,
how her clinging white dress excited you
as she whirled. Meanwhile, I rejoice
although Aphrodite once chided me
for praying … and yet I still pray to have her.



Sappho, fragment 23
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I long helplessly for love.
Gazing into your eyes not even Hermione compares.
Who is your equal?
I compare you only to goldenhaired Helen among mortal women.
Know your love would free me from every care, and keep me awake nightlong beside dewy deltas.



Sappho, fragment 78
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… nor were we without longing together,
as flowers long to delight …



Sappho, fragment 44
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The Wedding of Andromache and Hector

The herald arrived from Cyprus, Idaios, the fleetfooted Trojan messenger, whose ringing voice announced the wedding’s immortal fame to all Asia: “Hector and his companions deliver delightful-eyed delicate Andromache over the salt sea, on ships from holy Thebes and eternal-shored Plakia, with many gold bracelets, fragrant purple garments, iridescent adornments, and countless silver cups and ivory.” As he spoke, Hector’s beloved father sprang joyously to his feet and the report soon reached Hector's friends throughout the sprawling city. Immediately the sons of Ilos, Troy's founder, harnessed mules to smooth-wheeled carriages as throngs of women and slender-ankled virgins climbed aboard. Priam's daughters came in royal carriages. Elsewhere bachelors harnessed stallions to their chariots. From far and wide charioteers rode like gods toward the sacred gathering. Everyone of one accord they set out for Ilion accompanied by the melodies of sweet-voiced flutes, reed pipes and clacking castanets. The virgins sang sacred songs whose silvery echoes brightened the heavens. Everywhere in the streets wine bowls and cups were raised in jubilant toasts. The fragrances of myrrh, cassia and frankincense mingled together, perfuming the wind. The older women cried aloud for joy and the men's voices rang forcefully, calling on the archer Paion Apollo, master of the lyre, as all sang the praises of godlike Hector and Andromache.



Sappho, fragment 132
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I have a delightful daughter
fairer than the fairest flowers, Cleis,
whom I cherish more than all Lydia and lovely ******.

2.
I have a lovely daughter
with a face like the fairest flowers,
my beloved Cleis …



Sappho, fragment 295
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I fluttered
after you
like a chick after its mother …

2.
I fluttered
after you
like a chick after its hen …

3.
I flew back like a chick to its hen.

4.
I flew back like a child to its mother.



Sappho, fragment 30
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stay!
I will lay
out a cushion for you
with the plushest pillows …



Sappho, fragment 46
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My body descends
and my comfort depends
on your welcoming cushions!

From Herodian, according to Edwin Marion ***.



Sappho, fragment 140
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

He is dying, Cytherea, the delicate Adonis.
What shall we women do?
Virgins, rend your garments, bare your ******* and abuse them!



Sappho, fragment 168
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Alas, Adonis!



Sappho, fragment 55
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded,
as your worm-eaten corpse like your corpus degrades;
for those who never gathered Pieria's roses
must mutely accept how their memory fades
as they flit among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

2.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded,
as your worm-eaten corpse like your verse degrades;
for those who never gathered Pierian roses
must mutely accept how their reputation fades
among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

3.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded;
then imagine how quickly your reputation fades …
when you who never gathered the roses of Pieria
mutely assume your place
among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

4.
Death shall rule thee
eternally
now, my Lady,
for see:
your name lies useless, silent and forgotten
here and hereafter;
never again will you gather
the roses of Pieria, but only wander
misbegotten,
rotten
and obscure through Hades
flitting forlornly among the dismal shades.



Sappho, unnumbered fragment
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All mixed up, I drizzled.



Sappho, fragment 34
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Awed by the Moon's splendor,
the stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.

2a.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
the fairest.

2b.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
the brightest.

2c.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
by far
the fairest,
the brightest―
possessing the Moon's splendor.

2d.
You are,
compared to every star,
by far
the fairest,
the brightest―
surpassing the Moon's splendor.

3.
The stars lose their luster in the presence of the waxing moon when she graces the earth with her silver luminescence.

4.
The stars, abashed, hide their faces when the full-orbed moon floods the earth with her clear silver light.

5a.
Stars surrounding the brilliant moon pale whenever she lights the earth.

5b.
Stars surrounding the brilliant moon pale whenever she silvers the earth.



Sappho, fragment 39
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're merely mortal women,
it's true;
the Goddesses have no rivals
but You.



Sappho, fragment 5
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're eclipsed here by your presence—
you outshine all the ladies of Lydia
as the bright-haloed moon outsplendors the stars.

I suspect the fragment above is about Anactoria aka Anaktoria, since Sappho associates Anactoria with Lydia in fragment 16.



Sappho, fragment 16
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Those I most charm
do me the most harm.

2.
Those I charm the most
do me the most harm.



Sappho, fragment 68a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Apart from me they became like goddesses
in their unrestrained excesses.
Guilty Andromedas. Deceitful Megaras.



Sappho, fragment 62
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You lay in wait,
beautiful in your garments
beneath a sweet-scented laurel tree,
then ambushed me!



Sappho, fragment 154
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
The moon rose and we women
thronged it like an altar.

1b.
As the full moon rose,
we women
thronged it like an altar.

1c.
Women thronged the altar at moonrise.

2.
All night long
lithe maidens thronged
at the altar of Love.

3.
Maidens throng
at the altar of Love
all night long.

4.
The moon shone, full
as the virgins ringed Love's altar …



Sappho, fragment 2
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Leaving your heavenly summit,
I submit
to the mountain,
then plummet.



Sappho, fragment 129
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You forget me
or you love another more!
It's over.

2.
It's over!
Who can move
a hard heart?



Sappho, fragment 51
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I'm undecided.
My mind? Torn. Divided.

2.
Unsure as a babe new-born,
My mind is divided, torn.

3.
I don't know what to do:
My mind is divided, two.



Sappho, fragment 78
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… nor were we without longing together,
as flowers long to delight …



Sappho, fragment 68a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Apart from me they became like goddesses
in their unrestrained excesses.
Guilty Andromedas. Deceitful Megaras.



Sappho, fragment 23
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I long helplessly for love. Gazing into your eyes not even Hermione compares. Who is your equal? I compare you only to goldenhaired Helen among mortal women. Know your love would free me from every care, and keep me awake nightlong beside dewy deltas.



Sappho, fragment 62
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You lay in wait,
beautiful in your garments
beneath a sweet-scented laurel tree,
then ambushed me!



Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the bride comes
let her train rejoice!



Sappho, fragment 113
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bridegroom,
was there ever a maid
so like a lovely heirloom?



Sappho, fragment 19
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anoint yourself
with the most exquisite perfume.



Sappho, fragment 120
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I'm no resenter;
I have a childlike heart …

2.
I'm not resentful;
I have a childlike heart …

3.
I'm not spiteful;
I have a childlike heart …

4.
I'm not one who likes to wound,
but have a calm disposition.



Sappho, fragment 126
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
May you sleep, at rest,
on your tender girlfriend’s breast.

2.
May your head gently rest
on the breast
of the tenderest guest.

3.
May your head gently rest
on the tender breast
of the girl you love best.



Sappho, fragment 107
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Is there any good in maidenhood?

2.
Is there any synergy
in virginity?



Sappho, fragment 81
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dica! Do not enter the presence of Goddesses ungarlanded!
First weave sprigs of dill with those delicate hands, if you desire their favor,
for the Blessed Graces disdain bareheaded girls.



Sappho, fragment 58
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
I confess
that I love a gentle caress,
as I love the sun's ecstatic brilliance.

1b.
I confess
that I love her caresses;
for me Love blazes with the sun’s brilliance.

1c.
I love refinement
and for me Eros
blazes with the sun's beauty, brightness and brilliance.

2.
I love the sensual
as I love the sun's ecstatic brilliance.

3.
I love the sensual
as I love the sun's celestial splendor.

4.
I cherish extravagance,
intoxicated by Love's celestial splendor.



Sappho, fragment 127
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Assemble now, Muses, leaving golden landscapes!



Sappho, fragment 138
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Darling, let me see your face;
unleash your eyes' grace.

2.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' indulgence.

3.
Look me in the face,
           smile,
reveal your eyes' grace …

4.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' acceptance.

5.
Darling, let me see your smiling face;
favor me again with your eyes' grace.



Sappho, fragment 38
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You inflame me!

2.
You ignite and inflame me …
You melt me.



Sappho, fragment 12
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am an acolyte
of wile-weaving
Aphrodite.



Sappho, fragment 4
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What can Sappho possibly offer
all-blessed Aphrodite?



Sappho, fragment 104a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hesperus, herdsman most blessed!,
you herd homeward the wayward guest,
herd sheep and goats back home to their rest,
herd children to snuggle at their mother's breast.



Sappho, fragment 105
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Like the quince-apple ripening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed, or forgot—somehow—
or perhaps just couldn't reach, until now.

Like a mountain hyacinth rarely found,
which shepherds' feet trampled into the ground,
leaving purple stains on an unmourned mound.

2.
You're the sweetest apple reddening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed, or forgot—somehow—
or perhaps just couldn't reach, until now.

3.
You're the sweetest apple reddening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed … but, no, …
they just couldn't reach that high.



Sappho, fragment 145
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Prometheus the Fire-Bearer
robbed the Gods of their power
and so
brought mankind and himself to woe …
must you repeat his error?



Sappho, fragment 169
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

May I lead?
Will you follow?
Foolish man!

Ears so hollow,
minds so shallow,
never can!



Sappho, fragments 156
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Your voice—
a sweeter liar
than the lyre,
more dearly bought
and sold,
than gold.

2.
Your voice?—
more melodious than the lyre,
more dearly bought and sold
than gold.



Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
She wrapped herself then in
most delicate linen.

2.
She wrapped herself in
her most delicate linen.



Sappho, fragment 57
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
That country ***** bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!

1b.
That country ***** bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art
is hiking her dress
to reveal her ankles' nakedness!

2.
That hayseed ****
bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!



Sappho, fragment 54
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Eros
descended from heaven
clad in his imperial purple mantle.

2.
Eros
descends from heaven
wearing his imperial purple mantle.



Sappho, fragment 121
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As a friend you're great,
but you need a much younger bedmate.

2.
Although you're very dear to me,
please don't be silly!
You need a much younger filly.

3.
Although you're very dear to me
you need a much younger filly;
I'm far too old for you,
and this old mare's just not that **** silly.



Sappho, after Anacreon
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Once again I dive into this fathomless ocean,
intoxicated by lust.



The Legend of Sappho and Phaon, after Menander
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Some say Sappho was an ardent maiden
goaded by wild emotion
to fling herself from the white-frothed rocks of Leukas
into this raging ocean
for love of Phaon …

but others reject that premise
and say it was Aphrodite, for love of Adonis.



Sappho, fragment 140
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Phaon ferried the Goddess across:
the Goddess of Love, so men say
who crowned him with kingly laurels.
Was he crowned for only a day?



Sappho, fragment 105c
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Shepherds trample the larkspur
whose petals empurple the heath,
foreshadowing shepherds' grief.



Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The softest pallors grace
her lovely face.



Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I yearn for―I burn for―the one I miss!

2.
While you learn,
I burn.

3.
While you try to discern your will,
I burn still.



Sappho, fragment 30
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virgins, keeping vigil all night long,
go, make a lovely song,
sing of the love you abide
for the violet-robed bride.

Or better yet―arise, regale!
Go entice the eligible bachelors
so that we shocked elders
can sleep less than the love-plagued nightingales!



Sappho, fragment 122
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
A willowy girl plucking wildflowers.

1b.
A willowy girl picking wildflowers.

2.
A tender maiden plucking flowers
persuades the knave
to heroically brave
the world's untender hours.



Sappho, fragment 125
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love, bittersweet Dispenser of pain,
Weaver of implausible fictions:
     flourishes in prosperity,
     weeps for life's perversity,
     quails before adversity,
dies haggard, believing she's pretty.



Sappho, fragment 201
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Death is evil;
so the Gods decreed
or they would die.

2.
Death is evil; the Gods all agree.
For, had death been good,
the Gods would
be mortal, like me.



Sappho, fragment 43
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, dear ones,
let us cease our singing:
morning dawns.



Sappho, fragment 14
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Today
may
buffeting winds bear
all my distress and care
away.

2.
Today
may
buffeting winds bear
away
all my distress and care.



Sappho, fragment 69
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I gladly returned
to soft arms I once spurned.

2.
Into the soft arms of the girl I once spurned,
I gladly returned.



Sappho, fragment 29
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since my paps are dry and my barren womb rests,
let me praise lively girls with violet-scented *******.



Sappho, fragment 1
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Beautiful swift sparrows
rising on whirring wings
flee the dark earth for the sun-bright air …



Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Girls ripening for marriage wove flowers into garlands.

2.
Girls of the ripening maidenhead wove garlands.

3.
Girls of the ripening maidenhead wore garlands.



Sappho, fragment 94 & 98
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Listen, my dear;
by the Goddess I swear
that I, too,
(like you)
had to renounce my false frigidity
and surrender my virginity.
My wedding night was not so bad;
you too have nothing to fear, so be glad!
(But then why do I sometimes still think with dread
of my lost maidenhead?)



Sappho, fragment 114
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Maidenhead! Maidenhead!
So swiftly departed!
Why have you left me
forever brokenhearted?



Sappho, fragment 2
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch, after Sappho and Tennyson

I sip the cup of costly death;
I lose my color, catch my breath
whenever I contemplate your presence,
or absence.



Sappho, fragment 32
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
The Muses honored me by gifting me works.

2.
The Muses gave me their gifts and made me famous.

3.
They have been very generous with me,
the violet-strewing Muses of Olympus;
thanks to their gifts
I have become famous.



Sappho, fragment 3
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stars ringing the lovely moon
pale to insignificance
when she illuminates the earth
with her magnificence.



Sappho, fragment 49
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You have returned!
You did well to not depart
because I pined for you.
Now you have re-lit the torch
I bear for you in my heart,
this flare of Love.
I bless you and bless you and bless you
because we're no longer apart.



Sappho, fragment 52
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Yesterday,
you came to my house
to sing for me.

Today,
I come to you
to return the favor.

Talk to me. Do.
Sweet talk,
I love the flavor!

Please send away your maids
and let us share a private heaven-
haven.



Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There was no dance,
no sacred dalliance,
from which we were absent.



Sappho, fragment 152
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… shot through
with innumerable hues …



Sappho, fragment 46
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You came and did well to come
because I desired you. You made
love blaze in my breast, thus I bless you …
but not the endless hours when you're gone.



Sappho, fragment 153
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They call me the sweet-voiced girl, parthenon aduphonon.



Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anointed yourself
with the most exquisite perfume.



Sappho, fragment 42
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As their hearts froze,
their feathers molted.

2.
As their hearts grew chill
their wings grew still.

3.
Their hearts quieted,
they alighted.



Sappho, fragment 134
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Selene came to Endymion in the cave,
made love to him as he slept,
then crept away before the sun could prove
its light and warmth the more adept.



Sappho, fragment 47
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.



Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?



Sappho, fragment 52
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

With my two small arms, how can I
think to encircle the sky?



Sappho, fragment 137
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gold does not rust,
yet my son becomes dust?



Sappho, fragment 48
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You did well to come and I yearned for you.
Though I burned with desire, you cooled my fevered mind.



Mere air,
my words' fare,
but intoxicating to hear.
—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Sappho, fragment 9
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Mere breath,
words I command
are nevertheless immortal.



Sappho, fragment 118
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sing, my sacred tortoiseshell lyre;
come, let my words
accompany your voice.



My Religion
attributed to Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
I discovered the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.

1b.
I found the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.

1c.
I sought the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.

2a.
My religion consists of your body's curves and crevasses.

2b.
My religion became your body's curves and crevasses.

2c.
I discovered my religion in your body's curves and crevasses.



Sappho, fragment 37
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Pain
drains
me
to
the
last
drop
.

2.
Pain drains me;
may thunderstorms and lightning
strike my condemners.



Sappho, fragment 147
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Someone, somewhere
will remember us,
I swear!



Sappho, fragment 146
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
No droning bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!

1b.
No buzzing bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!

2.
Neither the honey
nor the bee
for me!



Sappho, fragment 168b
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
Midnight.
The hours drone on
as I moan here, alone.

1b.
Midnight.
The hours drone.
I moan,
alone.

2a.
The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent
yet here I lie—alone.

2b.
The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent
yet here I sleep, alone.



Sappho, fragment 119
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
We brought the urn aboard the barge, inscribed:
This is the dust of Timas,
whom Persephone received, *****, into her bedchamber,
for whom her fellowmaidens in mourning
slashed their soft curls with sharpened blades.

2.
This is the dust of Timas, dead, *****,
whom Persephone took to her dark bed,
for whom her fellowmaidens, mourning,
hacked off their locks like sheep at a shearing.



Sappho, fragment 21
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A purple scarf shadowed your face—
a cherished gift from Timas,
sent from Phocaea.



Sappho, fragment 290
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Dancing rhythmically, with light feet,
the Cretan women thronged the altar,
trampling circles in the fine soft flowering grass.

2.
Dancing rhythmically, with light feet,
to the pulsating beat,
Cretan
women thronged the altar in their mass,
trampling circles in the fine soft flowering grass.



Sappho, fragment 128
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come join us, tender Graces
and lovely-haired Muses,
in our ecstatic dances!



Sappho, fragment 93
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Our playmates are pink-ankled Graces
and golden Aphrodite!



Sappho, fragment 53
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, rosy-armed Graces,
Zeus's daughters,
in your perfection!



Sappho, fragment 111
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Raise the rafters, carpenters.
Hoist high the roof-beams!

***** Hymenaeus!

Here comes the bridegroom,
statuesque as Ares!

***** Hymenaeus!



Sappho, fragment 112
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lucky bridegroom,
your wedding day has finally arrived
and your alluring bride is your heart’s desire!



Sappho, fragment 32 (Barnard 32)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virginity!
Alas my lost Virginity!



Sappho, fragment 57
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Heavy-lidded Slumber, child of Night, claimed them.



Sappho, fragment 57a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Aphrodite's handmaid, resplendent in gold,
Hecate, Queen of Darkness untold!



Sappho, fragment 63
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Last night, Cyprian,
you and I clashed (s)words
in my dreams.



Sappho, fragment 48
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Now I know why Eros,
of all the gods’ offspring,
is most blessed.



Sappho, fragment 68
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

That was then, this is now!
In those days my maidenhead was in full bloom,
then you …



Sappho, fragment 135
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Golden Persuasion, Aphrodite's daughter,
how you deceive mortals!



Sappho, fragment 88
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why, Procne,
delicate swallow, daughter of Pandīon,
why do you weary me with tales of woe?



Sappho, fragment 287
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I once instructed Hero of Gyara, the fleetfooted.



Sappho, fragment 15
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Cypris, may she find you a harsh mistress,
Doricha, the ****!
Put an end to her bragging,
nor let her boast that she fooled him twice,
my brother's embezzler!

Doricha was a courtesan who allegedly caused Sappho's brother Charaxus to lose considerable wealth. Doricha was also known by the pseudonym Rhodopis, which means "rosy-cheeked."



Sappho, fragment 7
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Doricha commands arrogantly,
like young men.



Sappho, fragment 148
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A vagabond friendship,
a public blessing …
repent Rhodopis!



Sappho, fragment 138
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The beautiful courtesan Rhodopis,
lies here entombed, more fair
than when she walked with white lilies
plaited in her dark hair,
but now she's as withered as they:
whose dust is more gray?



Sappho, fragment 5
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Revered Nereids, divine sea-daughters, please grant that my brother may return unharmed,
his heart's desires all fulfilled,
and may he show his sister more honor than in his indifferent past …
But you, O august Kypris, please keep him from unbearable dooms!



Sappho, fragment 148
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wealth unaccompanied by Character
is a dangerous houseguest,
but together they invite happiness.



Sappho, fragment 201
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Gold is indestructible.

2.
Gold is God's indestructible Child:
the One neither moth nor worm devours.



Sappho, fragment 66
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ares bragged he'd drag forge-master Hephaestus off by sheer force!



Sappho, fragment 120
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Over fisherman Pelagon's grave his father Meniscus left creel and oar, relics of a luckless life.



Sappho, fragment 143
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How golden broom brightens riverbanks!



Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You remind me of a little girl
I once assisted picking flowers.



Sappho, fragment 95
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lord Hermes, you guide spirits to their final destination.
Now guide me, for I am despondent and wish only to die,
to see the lotus-lined shores of Acheron.



Sappho, fragment 150
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1
Cleis, daughter, don't cry!
Mourning is unbecoming a poet's household.

2.
For those who serve the Muses,
mourning is unbecoming.



Sappho, fragment 56
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Will any woman
born under the sun
ever match your art?

2.
No woman
born under the sun
will ever have your wisdom.



Sappho, fragment 135
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Erinna, why does darkwinged Procne, King Pandion's daughter, beckon?



Sappho, fragment 17
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hear me, Queen Hera, as your delightful festival nears,
you to whom the sons of Atreus performed vows,
those dazzling kings who did such amazing things,
first at Troy, then later at sea.
And yet, sailing the sea-road to our island,
those mighty kings still could not attain it
until they had called on you and Zeus,
the god of seekers and beseechers,
and Dionysus, alluring son of Semele.
Now we too perform the ancient rites,
O most holy and most beautiful Goddess,
we throngs of virgins, young women and wives.
Please allow us to arrive safely at the shrine.



Sappho, fragment 86
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In this quiet moment,
I beg a boon from Zeus,
the bearer of the aegis,
even as I implore, O Aphrodite,
the tenderness of your benevolent heart;
hear my prayer, as once before,
when, departing Cyprus,
you heeded my earnest cry
and chose not to be harsh.



Sappho, fragment 44a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Golden-haired Phoebus was sired on Leto by the high-soaring son of Kronos. His sister, Artemis, swore a great oath to Zeus: “By your crown, I shall always be an ***** ****** hunting on remote mountaintops. Assent!” The father of the Blessed Ones nodded his consent. Now gods and mortals call her The ****** Huntress and Eros, limb-loosener, dare never approach her!



Sappho, fragment 168c
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gaia, rainbow-crowned, garbs herself in myriad hues.



Sappho, fragment 101a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Undaunted by summer ablaze
the cicada emits its high, shrill song.



Sappho, fragment 103
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sing of the bride with shapely feet, fair as the violet-robed daughter of Zeus, Artemis. Let the violet-robed bride calm her bridegroom's anger. Come holy Graces and Pierian Muses, whose sweet-toned songs soothe the overwrought heart. Let the annoyed bridegroom complain to his companions as she redoes her hair, fiddles with her lyre, and tries on dawn-golden sandals!



Sappho, fragment 103b
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bed the bride with the beautiful feet,
or bring her to me!



Sappho, fragment 141
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hermes mixed ambrosia in a bowl,
then poured it for the gods
who, having lifted their cups, made libations,
then in one voice blessed the bridegroom.



Sappho, fragment 27
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Because you were once young and loved to dance and sing, come, think favorably of us and be gracious. You know we're off to a wedding, so quickly as possible please send the virgins away. And may the gods bless us here since there's no path yet for men to reach great Olympus.



Sappho, fragment 115
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dear groom,
to whom
may I compare you?
To a slender sapling.



Sappho, fragment 103c
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
… remembering delightful Arheanassa,
her laughter lovely as any Lorelei's …

2.
… remembering delightful Arheanassa,
her laughter lovely as any water nymph's …



Sappho, fragment 76
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fulfill?
At my age I'm just hanging on!



Sappho, fragment 45
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As long as you desire, I do!

2.
As long as you command, I obey!

3.
As long as you will, I submit.

4.
As long as you want me, I'm yours.



Sappho, fragment 50
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A handsome man pleases the eyes
but a good man pleases.



Sappho, fragment 41
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

For you, O my Beautiful Ones,
my mind is unalterable.



Sappho, fragment 18
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Everyone extols my storytelling:
"better than any man's!"



Sappho, fragment 88
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Though you prefer not to get carried away
and may imagine someone sweeter to behold,
someone who may yet say "Yes!"
still I will love you as long as there's breath in me,
swallowing the bitter,
ever the faithful lover.



Sappho, fragment 158
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When anger floods your chest,
best to still a reckless tongue.



Sappho, fragment 129
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They say Sappho's sweetest utterance
Was the hymeneal hymn of Love.



Sappho, fragment 153
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Queen Dawn,
solemn Dawn,
come!



Sappho, fragment 26
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why, Mistress Aphrodite,
*******! Why do you
fill me with such lust? Why
inflict such suffering on me?
When I prayed to you in the past,
you  never treated me with such indifference!



Sappho, fragment 132
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love, the child of Aphrodite and heaven;
Sappho, of earth;
Who had the more divine birth?



In the following 101 short translations the fragment numbers are Lobel-Page unless otherwise noted. All translations are by Michael R. Burch and should be so credited if they are used in any way, shape or form.

I now, with all my heart, fully, as much as it is possible for me, blossom to see your lovely face, touching. (4)

Let's go ogle golden-armed Lady Dawn before our doom. (6b)

It's impossible to be happy and human; yet I still pray a share for myself, of happiness. (16a)

Even this pressed for time, tonight we can raise a toast to the stars. (18a)

Put on your finery and with any luck we'll make harbor — back to dry land, back to the black earth. (20)

Though I'm skilled in lament and trembling with wrinkle-skinned age, yet there is the chase. Strum your lyre and sing to us of violet-robed loveseekers, Abanthis! (21)

Left to our own devices, two pretty young things, we found our way to the bedroom. (25)

Menelaus, son of Atreus, lies returned to the black earth, finally beyond agony. (INCERT. 27)

Colorful Lydian sandals covered her feet. So beautiful! (39)

At your altar, unforgiving Mistress, I will sacrifice a white goat and offer libations. (40)

I and Archeanassa, Gorgo's wife … (42a)

Beauty brings peace when my mind is troubled. Come sit beside me, friends, for day draws nigh. (43)

Once fleeing, hounded and bitten by gods, you gave me a name, put fame in my mouth. (58a)

O darkwinged dream you soar on night's drafts to sleep with the gods, and I am in agony to sense such distant power for I expect to share nothing with the blessed. I would rather not be left with mere trinkets, yet may I have them all! (63)

Andromeda may have abandoned you, but I, Aphrodite, Queen of Cyprus, still love you, Sappho, as the sun illuminates everything, everywhere; even by the dewy banks of Acheron, I am with you. (65)

I come to join the harmonies of a joyful chorus: sweet-toned, clear-voiced. (70)

Aphrodite, goddess of sweet-sung desires, sits on her throne of blooms in the beautiful dew. (73)

Aphrodite, sweet-talking goddess of love, sits on her throne of blooms in the beautiful dew. (73)

Joy? What joy? You gave me nothing: though beautiful, always unsmiling. (77)

She was all hair, otherwise nothing. (80)

Mnasidika is more curvaceous than even our soft Gyrinno. (82a)

Wait here once again, because … I come! (84)

You enrich me, like listening to an old man. (85)

We, having left rumors behind, departed people in a frenzy, tearing out their hair. (87)

Atthis, so charming in the bedroom, but otherwise hateful, proud and aloof, her teeth clicking like castanets. (87a)

Though you caused my soul and my heart sorrow, here's a small truth: I will always say "I love you" with a true heart. (88a)

Persuasion, Aphrodite's fledgling, with her broad, arrogant wings, sped me to Gyrinno, then to graceful Atthis. (90)

Irana, you're the biggest pain I've ever met! (91)

… saffron-dyed Phrygian purple robes and rugs … (92)

Later Polyanaktidis takes the lyre, strums the chords till they vibrate softly, and yet the sound pierces bones and melts the marrow. (99a)

Sons of Zeus, come to your rites from wooded Gryneia, here to our oracle! Then let the ritual songs begin! (99b)

Expensive gifts, these scented purple headscarves Mnasis sent us from Phokaia. (101)

Gorgo took her many insignificant verses to Cyprus, to be admired by many. (103a)

******'s singers reign supreme! (106)

Lesbian singers out-sing all others. (106)

… a most beautiful, graceful girl … (108)

The doorkeep’s feet are seven fathoms long, fill five oxhides, and it took ten cobblers to strap his sandals! (110)

Groom, to whom can I fairly compare you? To a slender sapling. (115)

Rejoice, most honored bride and groom! Rejoice! (116)

May the bride rejoice and her groom rejoice. Rejoice! (117)

The newlyweds appeared at the polished entryway. (117a)

Hesperus, star of the evening! *****, god of marriage! Adonis-like groom! (117b)

She stunned us in / wet linen. (119)

I'm talented, it's true, / but you / Calliope, remain unrivaled. (124)

I now wear garlands, who once wove them. (125)

Come again, Muses, leaving the golden heavens. (126)

Andromeda had a fine retort: "Sappho, why did Aphrodite so favor you? Did you ****** her?" (133)

We once spoke in a dream, Cyprian! (134)

Nightingale, enticing-songed harbinger of spring. Sing! (136)

The gods alone are above tears. (139)

They've all had their fill of Gorgo. (144)

Nightlong celebration wearies their eyes, then closes them. (149)

Our eyes embrace the black sleep of night. (151)

… many colors mingled … (152)

Women thronged the altar at moonrise. (154)

A hearty "Hello!" to the daughter of Polyanax. (155)

Lady Dawn, arise, / flood night's skies / with cerise. (157)

Imperial Aphrodite said: "You and Eros are my vassals. (159)

Imperial Aphrodite! bridegrooms bow down to Her! kings are Her bodyguards and squires. (161)

You "see" me? With whose eyes? (162)

Oh, my dearest darling, never depart/ or you'll wreck my heart! (163)

Leto summons her son, the Sun. (164)

To himself he seems godly, to us a boor. (165)

Leda, they said, once discovered a hidden, hyacinth-blue egg. (166)

Whiter than eggs, your unsunned *******. (167)

She's fonder of children than cradlerobber Gello. (168a)

We ran like fawns from the symposium: me, Cleis and reckless Gongyla. (168d)

Destiny is from the Muses, / and thus I was destined to leave him / to become / Sappho, Mistress of Song. (168e,f)

Unknowing of evil, I was pure innocence. (171)

Eros, pain-inducer, desist! (172)

She grew like a trellis vine. (173)

Mighty Zeus, World-Holder! (180)

Little is learned with an easy passage, much by a hard. (181)

May I go, or must you? (182)

Eros gusting blew my heart to pieces. (183)

I live in danger of too much love. (184)

Men fell in love with my honeyed voice, but I fell for girls. (185)

Sappho: Let me be one of the Muses when I die! Aphrodite: Granted! (187)

Eros, story-weaver, never a happy ending? (188)

I was very wise, except in the ways of love. (190)

That girl grew curvy and curly, like celery. (191)

We raised golden goblets inlaid with ivory and toasted the stars. (192)

I once instructed Hero of Gyara, the fleetfooted runner. (287)

We collapsed, drenched in sweat on both sides. (288)

Dawn spilled down the high mountains. (289)

Trading rosy health for less heartache, I fled my girlish youth. (291)

Such a boy once drove his chariot to Thebes, while Malis spun his fate on her spindle. (292, Malis was a Lydian war goddess)

"Thorneater?" That doesn't offend irongutted Arcadians! (293)

Hecate, Aphrodite's golden-armored ally, Queen of the Underworld. (294)

Learn from Admetus to love the courageous and avoid cowards, who seldom show gratitude. (296)

The black earth absorbed grief-stricken tears along with the interred sons of Atreus. (297)

Nightingale, sing your song and I'll sing along. (298)

Aphrodite, my mind is troubled. I'm still your servant, but Atthis remains a headstrong child. (299)

As when before your light streamed like honey but I was in darkness still. (300)

She is lovely as before, but where now is Hope? (300a)

Aphrodite, do you not love the windlike dances / of beautiful, apple-cheeked Abanthis? (301)

Cyprian, how splendid your altar ablaze in blue, silver and gold. Yet you all the more amazing! (302)

The bride lovely as dawn's unfolding sky, the groom nearly as handsome. (303)

Cyprian, here we come, singing songs and offering libations! (304)

A graceful girl, shy as a fawn and as flighty. (305)

Glorious passions! Passions uproarious! (306)



Sappho, fragment 306a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O most revered Queen of Heaven,
Golden Aphrodite!

Blessed above all mortal women,
and blessed by them …

Goddess, come!

Aphrodite, most beautiful,
enter with your train of elegant attendants!

Arise now for me,
honeysweet Aphrodite!

Meet me with greetings holy and divine!

Be mine!

What ecstasies, O my Queen,
shall we revel in at midnight?



THE LONGER POEMS OF SAPPHO

Unfortunately, the only completely intact poem left by Sappho is her "Ode to Aphrodite" or "Hymn to Aphrodite" (an interesting synchronicity since Sappho is best known as a love poet and Aphrodite was the ancient Greek goddess of love). However, "That man is peer of the gods" and the first poem below, variously titled “The Anactoria Poem,” “Helen’s Eidolon” and “Some People Say …” are largely intact. Was Sappho the author of the world's first "make love, not war" poem?



"Some Say"
Sappho, fragment 16
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Warriors on rearing chargers,
columns of infantry,
fleets of warships:
some call these the dark earth's redeeming visions.
But I say—
the one I desire.

Nor am I unique
because she who so vastly surpassed all other mortals in beauty
—Helen—
seduced by Aphrodite, led astray by desire,
departed for distant Troy,
abandoning her celebrated husband,
deserting her parents and child!

Her story reminds me of Anactoria,
who has also departed,
and whose lively dancing and lovely face
I would rather see than all Lydia's horsemen, war-chariots
and columns of infantry parading in flashing armor.



Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To the brightness of Love
not destroying the sight—
sweet, warm noonday sun
lightening things dun:
whence comes the Night?



Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How can I compete with that ****** man
who fancies himself one of the gods,
impressing you with his "eloquence" …
when just the thought of basking in your radiant presence,
of hearing your lovely voice and lively laughter,
sets my heart hammering at my breast?

Hell, when I catch just a quick glimpse of you,
I'm left speechless, tongue-tied,
and immediately a blush like a delicate flame reddens my skin.

Then my vision dims with tears,
my ears ring,
I sweat profusely,
and every muscle twitches or trembles.

When the blood finally settles,
I'm paler and wetter than the limpest grass.

Then, in my exhausted madness,
I'm as dull as the dead.

And yet I must risk all, being bereft without you …



Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To me that boy seems
blessed by the gods
because he sits beside you,
basking in your brilliant presence.

My heart races at the sound of your voice!
Your laughter?—bright water, dislodging pebbles
in a chaotic vortex. I can't catch my breath!
My heart bucks in my ribs. I can't breathe. I can't speak.

My ******* glow with intense heat;
desire's blush-inducing fires redden my flesh.
My ears seem hollow; they ring emptily.
My tongue is broken and cleaves to its roof.

I sweat profusely. I shiver.
Suddenly, I grow pale
and feel only a second short of dying.
And yet I must endure, somehow,

despite my poverty.



Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… at the sight of you,
words fail me …



Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your voice beguiles me.
Your laughter lifts my heart's wings.
If I listen to you, even for a moment, I am left stunned, speechless.



The following are Sappho's poems for Atthis aka Attis aka Athis …



Sappho, fragment 49
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I loved you, Atthis, long ago …
even when you seemed a graceless child.

2.
I fell in love with you, Atthis, long ago …
You seemed immature to me then, and not all that graceful.

3.
I loved you, little monkey-faced Atthis, long ago …
when you still seemed a graceless child.

4.
I loved you Atthis, long ago,
when my girlhood was a heyday of flowers
and you seemed but an awkward adolescent.



Sappho, fragment 131
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You desert me, Atthis,
as if you find me distasteful,
flitting off to Andromeda …

2.
Atthis, you forsake me
and flit off to Andromeda …



Ode to Anactoria or Ode to Atthis or Ode to Gongyla
Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

So my Atthis has not returned
and thus, let the truth be said,
I wish I were dead …

"Honestly, I just want to die!"
Atthis sighed,
shedding heartfelt tears,
inconsolably sad
when she
left me.

"How deeply we have loved,
we two,
Sappho!
Oh,
I really don't want to go!"

I answered her tenderly,
"Go as you must
and be happy,
trust-
ing your remembrance of me,
for you know how much
I loved you.

And if you begin to forget,
please try to recall
all
the heavenly emotions we felt
as with many wreathes of violets,
roses and crocuses
you sat beside me
adorning your delicate neck.

Once garlands had been fashioned of many woven flowers,
with much expensive myrrh
we anointed our bodies, like royalty
on soft couches,
then my tender caresses
fulfilled your desire …"



Sappho, fragment 96
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Our beloved Anactoria dwells in distant Sardis, but her thoughts often return to the life we shared together here, when she saw you as a goddess incarnate, robed in splendor, and loved to hear you singing her praises. Now she surpasses all Sardinian women, as, rising at sunset the rosy-fingered moon outshines the surrounding stars, illuminating salt seas and flowering meadows alike. Thus the delicate dew sparkles, the rose revives, and the tender chervil and sweetclover blossom. Now oftentimes when our beloved wanders aimlessly, she is reminded of gentle Atthis; then her heart assaults her tender breast with painful pangs and she cries aloud for us to console her. Truly, we understand the distress she feels, because Night, the many-eared, calls to us from across the dividing sea. But to go there is not easy, nor to rival a goddess in her loveliness.



The following translation is based on an imaginative translation by Willis Barnstone. The source fragment has major gaps.

Sappho, fragment 96
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How can mortal women rival the goddesses in beauty? But you may have come closest of all, or second to only Helen! With much love for you Aphrodite poured nectar from a gold decanter and with gentle hands Persuasion bade you drink. Now at the Geraistos shrine, of all the women dear to me, none compares to you.



Sappho, fragment 92
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

“Sappho, if you don’t leave your room,
I swear I’ll never love you again!
Get out of bed, rise and shine on us,
take off your Chian nightdress,
then, like a lily floating in a pond,
enter your bath. Cleis will bring you
a violet frock and lovely saffron blouse
from your clothes-chest. Then we’ll adorn
you with a bright purple mantle and crown
your hair with flowers. So come, darling,
with your maddening beauty,
while Praxinoa roasts nuts for our breakfast.
The gods have been good to us,
for today we’re heading at last to Mytilene
with you, Sappho, the loveliest of women,
like a mother among daughters.” Dearest
Atthis, those were fine words,
but now you forget everything!



Sappho, fragment 98
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
My mother said that in her youth
a purple ribband
was considered an excellent adornment,
but we were dark
and for blondes with hair brighter than torches
it was better to braid garlands of fresh flowers.

2.
My mother said that in her youth
to bind one's hair in back,
gathered together by a purple plaited circlet,
was considered an excellent adornment,
but for blondes with hair brighter than torches
it was better to braid garlands of fresh flowers,
or more recently, to buy colorful headbands from Sardis
and other Ionian cities.
But for you, my dearest Cleis,
I have no iridescent headband
to match your hair's vitality!



Sappho, fragment 41
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

For you, fair maidens, my mind does not equivocate.



Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with such vigor!

But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers, as you did so graciously before;
O, come Divine One, descend once more
from heaven's golden dominions!

Then, with your chariot yoked to love's
white consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you came gliding from heaven's shining heights,
to this dark gutter.

Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.

Asking me what I sought in my bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should Persuasion
summon here?"

"Although today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, soon she shall give them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"

Come to me now, O most Holy Aphrodite!
Free me now from my heavy heartache and anguish!
Graciously grant me all I request!
Be once again my ally and protector!

"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety.



Sappho, fragment 2
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, Cypris, from Crete
to meet me at this holy temple
where a lovely grove of apples awaits our presence
bowering altars
                            fuming with frankincense.

Here brisk waters babble beneath apple branches,
the grounds are overshadowed by roses,
and through their trembling leaves
                                                              deep sleep descends.

Here the horses will nibble flowers
as we gorge on apples
and the breezes blow
                                       honey-sweet with nectar…

Here, Cypris, we will gather up garlands,
pour the nectar gratefully into golden cups
and with gladness
                                 commence our festivities.



The Brothers Poem
by Sappho
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… but you’re always prattling about Kharaxos
returning with his ship's hold full. As for that,
Zeus and the gods alone know, so why indulge
idle fantasies?

Rather release me, since I am commending
numerous prayers to mighty Queen Hera,
asking that his undamaged ship might safely return
Kharaxos to us.

Then we will have serenity. As for
everything else, leave it to the gods
because calm seas often follow
sudden squalls

and those whose fortunes the gods transform
from unmitigated disaster into joy
have received a greater blessing
than prosperity.

Furthermore, if Larikhos raises his head
from this massive depression, we shall
see him become a man, lift ours and
stand together.



Sappho, fragment 58
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virgins, be zealous for the violet-scented Muses' lovely gifts
and those of melodious lyre …
but my once-supple skin sags now;
my arthritic bones creak;
my ravenblack hair's turned white;
my lighthearted heart's grown heavy;
my knees buckle;
my feet, once fleet as fawns, fail the dance.

I often bemoan my fate … but what's the use?
Not to grow old is, of course, not an option.

I am reminded of Tithonus, adored by Dawn with her arms full of roses,
who, overwhelmed by love, carried him off beyond death's dark dominion.
Handsome for a day, but soon withered with age,
he became an object of pity to his ageless wife.

And yet I still love life's finer things and have been granted brilliance, abundance and beauty.



And now, in closing, these are poems dedicated to the Divine Sappho:



Sappho's Rose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The rose is—
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.



Sappho’s Lullaby
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy

Hushed yet melodic, the hills and the valleys
sleep unaware of the nightingale's call
as the dew-laden lilies lie
listening,
glistening …
this is their night, the first night of fall.

Son, tonight, a woman awaits you;
she is more vibrant, more lovely than spring.
She'll meet you in moonlight,
soft and warm,
all alone …
then you'll know why the nightingale sings.

Just yesterday the stars were afire;
then how desire flashed through my veins!
But now I am older;
night has come,
I’m alone …
for you I will sing as the nightingale sings.
These are modern English translations of ancient Greek poems by Sappho of ******.
Kenn Rushworth Oct 2016
“As old as man,
Way back before the past…”
Said by the historian in the perpetual cemetery,
His book and ours open on the same blank page
“What is to become of us,
we are just memories of sound in a silent room”


The image of man
Tearing down his own tower of babel
with an “Eloi!, Eloi!” to himself
Grasping at the light
Without thought of the fire
All felony and no fingerprint
forever

And I watch
And I watch
And after my illness, I walk alone
And notice the words of children
collecting sun in a bucket

To 80 years from Spanish misery
To Syrian sand and tears
Mixing with the shores of ****** and Liverpool, London and Lemuria
Nothing gathered
Nothing gained

We slip further into the walls of parliament
Slip into the walls of web, corridors of code
And hear of occultist cataclysm
and those so intelligent all before them is dismissed
(“eloi, eloi, I am eloi!”)

In cold grey-green bathrooms
of flatblocks or apartment buildings
licking seasalt and gunpowder
from the fingers of our Atlantic cousins
In human skin suits
a rough version of something long worked on. some inspiration from an Ian Bellard line.
Jimmy King Dec 2014
.              Part One               .

January
I wake up in a hungover haze that seems
Irrevocably unending. All the places I threw up,
That stiffness in my neck, the emptiness in my love;
There is too much to feel
So I feel numbness
And I feel remnants
Of ***** in my throat, only manifested fully
When my friends and I make fortune cookies,
Singing along to songs that we’re hearing for the first time
Amidst the chaos of exploding poinsettia plants and nascent tattoos,
All of which litter your mom’s otherwise bare counter.
I don’t make much mention, in my fortune cookies,
Of that girl who still leaves me hungover;
I fill them instead with cruel jokes
That send me cackling
Until my dehydrated headaches pass into

February
When I’m moonlit tipsy stumbling
Through a campus-wide coniferous forest in Washington State
With two strangers that I soberly think
Might be my future.
We arrive at the clear polluted waters
Of the Puget Sound, our boots all
Sinking into deep-mud as we walk past broken bits of shells
To low tide.
Even as the full moon sinks and I realize
That those two strangers can never be my future
(That Athens, Ohio is my future)
I still walk forward
Into the Puget Sound
Knowing that the water will stay with me
In my lungs, on my skin,
In my mind, and although I don’t tell a single person, I fear,
So rightly,
That the water from the Puget Sound,
Set to perpetually accumulate in my lungs,
Will one day come to drown me.
Even as I cry to my mom in our kitchen,
Relieved from that seemingly endless indecision
I’m not surprised. I’m not surprised
By the choice I’ve made, I’m not surprised
By the fears I still have, all that surprises me
About any of this
Is the immediacy with which
My conclusion’s future culmination begins, as I begin
And continue
While always feeling like I’m concluding,
An infinite

March
In spirals, spirals, spirals, leaving trails
In subconscious sands, someone paints
Blue spirals on my body, and when
I drive back to Lake Erie later,
To retrieve abandoned items and moments,
The road looks much different.
Less swirly, less threatening at first, and when we get there
We eat pineapple/onion pizza on my ****** cottage’s front porch,
Just barely shielded from the snow, and just barely
Shielded from one another. And even those
Slim shields between us begin to fall
When we stand on our melting Lake Erie.
Because the whole world
Calls to us.
The sky screams, the wind explodes,
The thin layer of water above ice rushes
Blissfully, almost hallucinogenically, towards you and towards I
And I am howling
Into the face of it all,
Fearing nothing—not even
The absence of that girl’s palm in mine
Or the water from the Puget Sound
Or the cold of the air
That is tearing at my scalp; that is tearing
At my whole being and

April
Is best described by a rampage
Home from a campsite
That I only ever saw
Drunkenly, in the dark, and under the pressure
Of Allan Ginsberg’s poetry and an ultimately failed ****.
On that rampage we steal tombstones,
We steal memories for ourselves,
And we steal crass glances
With crass jokes that sound sort of
Like the crass fortune cookies which somehow
Never went bad.
Someone notes during that drive
That the air is getting warmer
With regularity now,
And while I somehow can’t bring myself to cry when my cousin is shot to death,
I have to struggle to hold back tears
In our high school’s only classroom when you tell me
That you’re quitting that play we signed up for together.
I guess it’s cuz I’m concerned—
Cuz I’m deeply
Deeply
Deeply concerned—
That it’s a lack of dedication
To me, to what we do together, to everything
That will prevent my rampage from concluding quietly
Amidst the smells of Indian food and the soft light
In your future dorm room
Where I will hug you
And where I

May
Finally
Let all the tears
Flow freely.
I guess it’s the unnecessary intensity
Of this collective celebratory anticipation
That preemptively reveals to me
That the moment of walking across a stage
To receive my high-school diploma
Won’t be quite as transformative as I’d hoped it might be,
And when I make out with that girl who still has me hungover
In the bed at my dad’s house where I lost my virginity
Almost exactly one year prior, I realize that in fact,
I’m still marching the same march, and
Both magic moments of idealized transformation in that bed
Were just as illusory.
Somehow though
Your no longer nascent tattoos have not yet faded
And I can’t help but worry,
(As sweat pours from my forehead and drenches these bedsheets;
As my finger nestles itself tiredly between the folds of her ******)
That I have, and in

June
When all my anticipation is realized,
People clap in the audience despite the fact
That it’s the same stream of sweat
That’s trickling down along my spine
To reach my ***.
I stare into the spotlight
For just a moment, amidst those stale applause
And in my squint, I think briefly
That none of it ******* mattered. I mean,
Despite this perspiration, I’m
Dehydrated. Hungover. I guess
Drinking more alcohol
Isn’t the best way to get over it, but I can think of nothing else,
So even when I acknowledge
That all my attempts have not even been half-assed,
But, like, one-quarter-assed
The only resolve I find is in distraction, in
******* my other ex-girlfriend instead
And not until that distant

July
When I’m ascending through Never Sink,
Does my head finally
Feel clear, yes,
In that glowing blue pit
Of bioluminescence,
I feel the whole world slow to a stop,
Embrace my body with its taproots
And whisper
Playfully and
In a child’s voice,
“You are the whole world” and I know that I
Am the whole world.
I breathe heavily, the only sound for miles around,
And for a moment I feel that the Puget Sound,
Along with everything else that is so ******,
Has fallen away.
For it is not my body
That is climbing on-rope through the stars and galaxies of this great sinkhole
But my mind,
But my soul,
Because Never Sink
Is not a landscape
But a mind-scape,
A soul-scape,
And it is one which is never dark
Thanks to the blue lights of soulful- (not bio-) luminescence—
A glow that is strong enough to see
Finally
A singularity
In the form of an unlocked lock,
Appearing with grace upon my driveway
After I return home
From ******* my other ex-girlfriend
For the last time.
It is only when I stop the car,
Open the door,
And hold that unlocked lock in my hand that I realize the extent to which
I am being
Un-defined.
The ethereal being in Never Sink’s soul-scape,
Alone in the blue grace of the night,
With nothing in my breath.
The thought is terrifying.
So in

August
On the night of my eighteenth birthday,
The girl I’m hung over and I
Send magical, sparkling lanterns into the sky
With a wish so brilliantly bright and simultaneous
That even I am able dismiss the slurring drunk words spoken next to us—
“Here’s hopin’ that you two get married some day”
As superfluous.

.                Part Two               .

The winds above Lake Erie carry me,
Along with that lantern, into the foreignness
Which Never Sink foreshadowed.
But with the lantern as my very being
And the Puget Sound in my every breath,
Athens, Ohio does not become my soul-scape;
Even its gorgeous autumnal rolling hills
Are just land-scape, and I don’t know
Whether things would have been different
Had I not walked into that stranger’s party
For that terrible beer
On one of my first nights there, but regardless in

September
I walk up endless hills and stairs daily
To get around this hellhole where the only genuine people I’ve yet found
Were prepared to leave from day one, like I
Wasn’t. I wasn’t preparing for that at all, but the Puget Sound,
Lingers like phlegm in my lungs and distorts my regular refrain
Of “I can be happy here, I can be happy here,” keeping it
From ever loosing its hypothetical but eventually forcing it
To loose its conclusion:
I can be…
I can be…
I can be anything that I want to be and I am still here,
Sitting on the top terrace of this weird-assed biker bar with some girl
I just met, with some guy
Who seems cool, but in both cases
I drink one too many Blue Moon’s because I know
That neither of these people
Will ever loose their hypotheticals and will only ever
Loose their conclusions.
Gazing upwards towards the stars in the fading summer,
I try to ignore the physicality of all that’s around me,
But the alcohol churns in my stomach like violent waves, like in

October
How I rock like tides between the shores
Of two continents, of two
Acid trips.
One, on the floor of my dorm room, staring at my ceiling
In an attempt to make patterns
Out of patternless white paint, all the while holding hands
With that guy who seems cool, who has been dancing
In and out of hypothetical.
And the other acid trip with you,
Who somehow in the face of everything
Became one of my only certainties.
You, with whom I stood on Lake Erie
Howling into the wind in an unrealized epiphany.
An epiphany
That is now realized
Because the beers on that top terrace didn’t matter.
The white speckles on my dorm room ceiling during that first acid trip
Didn’t matter.
Hell, that girl I am in love with
Didn’t (doesn’t, can’t, won’t) matter.
What matters to me,
As I’m dressed in drag on Halloween,
Lying in your dorm room that smells of Indian food
With 120 dollars of drug money in my pocket,
Is what’s ultimately present. Right there.
Right here. But then, lying there, the time
Clicks over into

November
And at two in the morning it becomes
One in the morning.
I don’t know which of those hours wasn’t real
But when I hug you and cry in the soft light
It is a moment too brief.
It is a moment from which I am pulled straight
Into a hotel bed halfway to New York City,
Where I lie with that girl who I guess I’m in love with
And I’m kissing her, and I realize
That blue spirals still linger on my body, but when she groans,
So softly
That “we shouldn’t be doing this”
I pause before saying “I know,”
And in that pause, my pixelated, televised, and falsified image of reality
Briefly turns to fuzzy grey static, its finite infinity like the trance
Of meat on a rotisserie; I’m waiting
For this turkey to cook
In my friend’s mom’s home—funny
Because I’m still a vegetarian
Who sometimes likes to think of himself, in quest for definition,
As a vegan, but man
I’m beyond definition, I’m beyond anything,
I’m beyond even my darkest imaginings of myself, so when I get wasted
At a 2am that doesn’t click back on Thanksgiving morning,
I have a slice of that ******* turkey,
Cuz the vegan chili my friend and I made at school was good and all,
But I had to bike through freezing rain to get the peppers
And even though I’m starting to feel
Like I’ve found a few people who I can take in with permanence
Nothing feels more like permanence
Than this home-cooked meal
Of turkey and cranberries and sweet potatoes at a granite counter
Where, on January 1st when the ball dropped,
We all took shots, leaving me drunk, stumbling
And eventually
Hungover.
And of course in

December
I’m still
Hung over it all.
Part one, part two,
The futility of that division is so obvious now.
It’s the same poem, same sentence,
And when two not-so-new-anymore friends and I sit on a rooftop in Athens
With a bunch of still so-new I-guess-friends
Right before exam week,
Right before this emotionally excruciating semester comes to a close,
Right before I prepare to head home,
I realize that even though this place
Hasn’t quite become home yet,
My ‘home’ isn’t really at home now either.
I am without a bed in which I feel comfortable,
Without a body next to which my whole life makes sense,
And I am driving to go swing dancing—
An activity I can’t believe I’m still trying to like—
When I finally tell her that I’m in love with her:
Words that don’t matter despite
How much they do. Ultimately,
To me, to her, it’s just
A quick red-light phrase
And this poem is, without too many layers of resonance,
Not even addressed to her,
But to that girl with whom I stood on Lake Erie,
Howling into the wind,
Imagining part two but preparing
For part three, so
With that lantern still floating skyward, “here’s hopin’ that”
                                         (No. No. No. Start over.)
Here’s hoping that
At midnight
On this New Year’s Eve,
When the ball drops and when we all take shots,
Perhaps around that same granite counter-top,
These clocks
Won’t click back again.
These spirals
Will fade.
Wandisa Zwane Oct 2015
Written by

Wandisa Zwane  


April 16, 2015



INT.  APT 3101 - THE BEDROOM  

It's 02:31 am and I find myself laying silently on my bed scrolling through Instagram...Twitter...Tumblr....and Snapchat. I find myself struggling to go to sleep.  I wasn't even able to sleep for an hour or two. It's not normal as its way past my curfew. I receive a text message. I'm confused because it's
still too early for anyone to be texting me, and I know everyone nearby is fast asleep because we have school. So who could be texting me?

CUT TO: PHONE SCREEN

HER ( via text )

I'm struggling with the math homework, help ? Are you up ?

ME ( via text )

I am actually. FaceTime, call or text?

20 minutes later my phone starts ringing. She was FaceTiming me. I stare at her name for about 5 seconds trying to put myself together.

ME

Hello, Ellie

I wasn't focused on the math. I was hoping that we could forget about the math and just talk about us and the futility of life. For some stupid reason I really thought you were gonna say something cheesy like I can't get you out of my head but can we just talk until we fall in love? But no it never happened as we had an hour long conversation about math.

CUE " MATH CONVERSATION"

The futility in that conversation was cosmic to the point where I began questioning existence. But when the call finally ended I was disappointed.

CUT TO: VARSITY

It's 8am and I'm at sitting in English tired and drained. Still contemplating about the futility of life.

HER

Hey, Tyler thanks for helping me with the math homework.

ME

Uhm Ellie do you want to come over too my apartment over the weekend and chill ?

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101

It's 12am and the apartment is really untidy. I jump out of bed and clean the entire apartment in a record time of 12 minutes and 44 seconds. I'm going crazy over here as I'm trying to remember if I gave her the correct directions. Thank god I gave her the correct directions as I see the uber pulling up in front of the apartment complex. I start sweating and shaking and I'm fearful that I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. I start cringing.
I open the door the door and it's her standing directly in front of me. I can't breathe. I'm overwhelmed by an awe of emotions. Literally - she's beautiful

ME

I mumbled - Hey Ellie it's so good to see you ( the hug was very awkward because I was nervous - it was one of those hugs where both people don't know how to hug each which makes things really awkward)

HER

Hi


ME

So glad you could make it. How was the drive ( note to self: I should stop making things awkward ) I'm so irritated at myself.

CUT TO:  APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

She's sitting on the couch. And I'm sitting right next to her. Okay let's just say there was a 30cm gap between the both of us. I was really nervous. I found myself drinking gallons of water. I forgot to offer her anything. I was nervous to the point where I couldn't even make eye contact. I just stared at her forehead and her lips.

ME

Aren't you exhausted I mean that drive was really long ( she lived like 3 blocks away from me )

HER

Not really , I'm just really stressed about varsity and stuff I guess.

We actually start conversing with one another for 5 hours straight.We smoke about 3 cigarettes and have the most fruitful conversation ever about female energy and the power of the the heart. She's really enlightened - I thought she was really basic. We both can't go to sleep because we're actually  enjoying the presence of one another. It was cathartic and refreshing actually.

ME

Want go up to the roof and look at the universe?

HER

I'd love too.

CUT TO : COMPLEX ROOF

I brought a blanket up to the roof cause I thought it was cold. It wasn't but we just layed down underneath the open night sky and gazed into the stars. We connected with the universe/ourselves/each other. It was bliss. We ended up falling asleep on top of the roof. To my amazement we were silently wrapped around each other.

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - THE KITCHEN

HER

( chuckling )
How'd you sleep

ME

( Smiling )
I slept pretty well.

ME

Do you have any plans for today?

HER

YES actually...

SEVERAL HOURS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN/BEDROOM AND LIVING ROOM

The sun is setting and she still hasn't packed her bags.

ME

When are you leaving?

She said she was leaving on Sunday

HER

In 30.

ME

(I tried to not crack in front of her)
Cool.


APARTMENT 3101

About 2 weeks later she surprisingly pitches at my door with her luggage.

HER
I'm moving in with you!

I was excited at the fact that she was moving in with me but I obviously tried acting cool and composed.

CUT TO: WOLVES CAFE

As they're sitting there talking to each other about their families, Osho and meditation over a cup of tea.

ME

I was adopted.

HER

WOW - That's a huge plot twist.

She sat there speechless for about 2 minutes trying to fathom the knowledge I just presented to her.

HER

So do you ever think about your real parents?

ME

All the time - they both died in a car accident when I was 3.

HER

I'm so sorry.

ME

It's okay - I mean I know they're somewhere out there in the universe checking up on me. I speak to them when I feel lonely.

Enough about my tragic past..How are your parents?

I've never told any other soul about my parents before. She was the first person I ever told .

HER

I never knew my dad but my mom has been living with a brain tumour for like 2 years now.

ME

Wow. That's must've been so tough for you when you found out about it.

HER

It was. I went through the most vicious cycle of depression for an entire year. But I'm trying to make most of the time I have left with her.

ME

How much time do you have left to see her her and stuff ?

HER

(She starts tearing up)
3 months

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

I'm still fascinated by the fact that she's into Osho, existentialism, metaphysics and epistemology. But I also felt like our relationship had escalated so quickly. We're we rushing things? The relationship felt like it was moving at the speed of light.

ME

Do you feel like we're moving too fast ?

HER

There's no such thing, if it's meant to be it will be, whether fast or slow as long as it's true, it will last as long as you want it to.

I was momentarily tongue-tied as I was trying to digest the words she just said.

ME

......

(Still voiceless)

She still had a lot more to say after that

CUES : "rants"

But in that entire rant she said something that echoed within me.

HER

YOU KNOW I MAKE YOU HAPPY

After she said this I felt like fainting. So not only did she make me voiceless I was overwhelmed by an ocean of indescribable emotions- wow

DAYS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN

I'd finally recovered from those powerful words she preached to me. So I found myself sitting in the kitchen trying to write a letter to her about how I really felt. I wasn't the best at expressing my emotions through writing but I gave it a shot.

ME

Love is the unforetold explanation for creation. Love is life. It's the merger of minds. The marriage of minds. It transcends through time, it's timeless. It takes you into a dimension filled with possibilities and opportunities. It helps you understand you are that you are not worthless. Every time I am with you I understand we are here for a reason. And every time I stare into your eyes. I realise that you are mine.  

I sealed it an envelope and put it on the kitchen counter.

LATER ON THAT DAY:

She opens the letter and starts crying.

CUT TO: THE TREEHOUSE

I introduce her to some of the guys in the treehouse. They welcomed her to the treehouse with open arms.

HER

So what do you guys do in the treehouse?

PAUL : (one of the guys part of the treehouse)

Well in the treehouse we just try to expand. We write, make music, poetry, nothing much really.

MCDONALDS DRIVE- THRU

She was to lazy to go home and cook supper she was s bit hypocritical cause she said we should stop buying junk food. So we decided to go to McDonald's. We were down to our last packet of 2 minute noodles anyway.


CUT TO: HOSPITAL

We went to visit her mother. She introduced me but there was no warmth in the hug we shared. I could feel her shrill body disintegrating. She was really cold. You could see she was dying.

HER

How've you been mom ?

MOM

She couldn't even speak properly. It was sad but when she eventually managed to responded to Ellie's question.

MOM

I'm still fighting but I don't know if I can do this for much longer.

HER

No mum you can't leave me.

MOM

I don't want to make you empty promises my child.

Who's this handsome young man Ellie?

HER

(Smiling heavily)
It's Tyler, my boyfriend

She just called me her boyfriend in front of her mom. She just put a label on our relationship. I thought it was completely platonic.

ME

Afternoon Mam. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

I knew her name ( Stacy )  but in that moment I felt like a child in primary school - so I decided to be respectful and call her mam. I wasn't sure whether or not I should call her "Ellie's mom" or Stacy. It was just a tricky situation. So I opted for mam.

MOM

( smiling )
The pleasure is all mine Tyler.

She told me to come closer to her cause she wanted to whisper something into my ear.

MOM

Tyler I'm clearly dying as you can see. So I'm leaving with you an important task of ensuring that's my daughter remains happy at all times.Take care of her for me - please

ME

I'll take care of her - she's in safe hands.

MOM

That's the spirit Tyler. Can you give us a moment please Tyler.

HER

Just go down to the kiosk and get me a bottle of distilled water. Please.

(Tyler leaves the room)

MOM

I remember the first time you wrapped your tiny hand around my index finger , you had my soul laying on 3 cms of palm.

( Ellie interrupts )

HER

Mom don't do this , prolonging life is pure idiocy.

(she smiles as a tear rolls down her cheek )

Die so your soul can have its summer ,don't worry about my pain cause I'm really happy for you, your soul can finally taste true liberation, see my tears as autumn leaves falling from trees , I'm naked and all I can show you is the truest forms of love.

MOM

You're so beautiful because you're so true. Our connection has no equation my daughter, as I leave my body just know that my time with you transcends forever.

HER

Mother it's time for you to leave. Take a piece of my happiness, it's futile anyway and I have it in abundance but I shall be lost without you in body, I shall be found when I'm with you in soul.

MOM

Clarity comes with the last breath, as hatred and love become nothing, you are nothing and everything all at once, I'm happy for you have given it to me, tomorrow and yesterday no longer matter

(her heart stops beating and her souls goes home - heart rate monitor indicates her mom has just flat lined)

Ellie starts screaming. The nurses and doctors come sprinting in.


DOCTOR

NUURSE HAND ME THE DEFIBRILLATOR !!

HER

(in agonising pain and disbelief that her mother is dead she starts screaming)

SAVE MY MUM, PLEASE SHE CANT LEAVE ME !! YOU CANT LET HER DIE.

DOCTOR

Nurse get her out of here.

She's kicking and shoving the other nurses as she is being escorted out the room.

NURSE

Don't worry the doctors are doing all they can to save her.

Tyler comes back from the kiosk with the distilled water to find Ellie on the floor crying.

ME

What's wrong?

HER

( Her face goes pale )
She's gone ....

2 DAYS LATER: BACK AT 3101

Ellie has locked herself in my/our room. We haven't spoken to each other for like 2 weeks.

She finally decides to come out of the room.

HER

(Breaks down, again  )
It's her birthday today.

I've never seen her so broken and disfigured before. She's in pieces - distorted.

NARRATOR

Death is the door between two lives; one is left behind, one is waiting ahead. Death is the ultimate experience of this life - Osho

“Birth leads to death, death precedes birth. So if you want to see life as it really is, it is rounded on both the sides by death. Death is the beginning and death is again the end, and life is just the illusion in between. You feel alive between two deaths; the passage joining one death to another you call life. Buddha says this is not life. This life is dukkha – misery. This life is death"

HER

I WONT CRUMBLE - IM A BIG GIRL NOW. MOMMA RAISED ME TO BE A STRONG WOMAN SO IM GONNA DO THAT.

She put up this facade as if nothing ever happened. She didn't allow herself to mourn the death of her mother. She was apathetic for the next 2 weeks.

This  was a tricky phase because she either woke up angry or sad. She just rampaged through the house, didn't attend lectures - she just left a trail of destruction wherever she went. I even have the scars to prove it.

A FEW WEEKS LATER: THE DEATH ORDEAL IS FINALLY OVER

She gained about 5 kilograms in that entire period. She just kept on stuffing her face with ice cream and chocolates

HER

Tyler thanks for being there in my moment of absolute depression.

ME

I thought you were never going to be able to get yourself out of that dark abyss you were trapped in.

AT THE BEACH

The sun is setting and the couple is walking along the sand enjoying each other's company.

ME

I've got something for you Ellie

( I hope she likes it )

HER

Yes?

ME

Close your eyes

(Takes out a heart shaped pediment from back pocket  and places it around her neck )

You can open your eyes now.

HER

(Smiling)
It's lovely, thank you

ME

(Smiling back)
I'm giving you my heart but not my soul.

HER

(Blushes)

ME

(In my head)
I'm giving her my heart she better not break it.

Have you ever had that feeling before in a relationship where you think you love the other person more than they love you. To the point where you'd even get their names tattooed onto your chest. Cause that's how I feel right now.

IN THE CAR:


I'm driving Ellie to the airport. OR Tambo in fact. I'm playing some Jamie ** but I quickly change it and play my favourite song Female Energy.

CUE "FEMALE ENERGY"

ME

You excited?

HER

Yes I'm really really excited for this.

ME

I'm really gonna miss you

HER

Me too.

Ellie was completing her mothers bucket list - so she had had to travel all the way to Tibet and learn Buddhism. Nothing much really she was leaving  for 2 months.


But little did Tyler know that this was going to be the last time he sees Ellie because her plane never landed in Tibet - the plane crashed and it sunk with no no one  surviving.

STILL IN THE CAR:

Ellie hands Tyler a letter

HER

Tyler please don't open this until you get home.

ME

(Smiling)
I'll try my best.


Car parks at drop and go zone at the airport. Tyler takes out Ellie's bag from the boot.

They hug and kiss

Ellie cries.

CUT TO : "APT 3101 - LIVING ROOM "

Tyler opens the letter.

CUE "ELLIES VOICE AND ON OUR SWEATERS "


It's funny how for someone who has been so used to being lonely, the second I grip onto something that seems real, my biggest fear is losing that grip - even though for the longest time ever I've become immune to the feeling of loneliness. The same way people become dependent on other beings, people can become dependent on loneliness too - you become immune to self reassurance, your insecurities, your vulnerability and after a while it seems ideal and okay, but only because it's all you've got. You allow yourself to be consumed by this self indulgent energy making you think you don't need anybody because how else do you get by when you know that you have nobody. So when someone comes creeping in through the front door, with nothing but good intentions - you shut them out because you've lost sight of the difference in the realness of someone coming through the front door and the fakeness of someone coming through the backdoor. I struggle to fathom your presence because I didn't see you coming, through any door, you were just always there in plain sight. I don't know how to describe what I feel when I'm around you because I have never felt anything like it. All I know is that it leaves me in a place
An incomplete screenplay.
Deneka Raquel Jun 2014
Heartbreak, isn't as easy as it looks.
You took my heart,
Put it on hooks,
And butchered
Whatever remained.
Now it will never work the same.

Yet still I see your name
And that heart ache becomes,
A mobile destructive vortex
Of violently rotating winds
A funnel-shaped cloud
Attached to a large storm system.

Yes, heartbreak is like a tornado,
That spirals within me,
Each time I think of you,
Tearing and ripping,
And pulling me through.
Nothing could prepare me for this weather.
Yet I can't imagine anything better,
I prefer to face this tornado everyday,
It will,
Remind me,
Of you,
Forever.
zebra Apr 2017
"Claim me,"
she whispers in a plea
"claim my soul as I wilt"
Crimson lips parted,
head thrown back
in ecstatic ache
jugular bared
she needs to feel
that sharp -edged love,
skin and barriers broken
as she melts into
the underworld
of a new grace
a magenta cry into
the inky sky
sacred silence penetrated
as only gasps are heard
milky ******* decorated
with red liquid ribbon,
his nourishment,
her demise
******* pierced with
beads of her sunset life flow
as he ***** and bites...
and howling
into heaven's delicious gate,
she writhes
Her soul dissolving
into his night
and as his spirit
absorbs her vermilion soul
their power rises,
black as coal
…………….
your lips
stick black  
sanguine smile
tremulous murmurs
oh happy blood blossom of deaths surrender
sacrificial lamb
cats sparrow entranced
thighs on fire
sobbing from a thousand needled kisses
******* tearing blood
each wound a weeping mouth licking
milky white alter of cold stone
saturated alizarin rust
legs wide
feet and ******* trussed
in chains and drenched rags
for cruelties arrow
o crimson queen,
pomegranate half eaten
mouth smudge black
agape
snake tongue dancing
through cherry lips twisted
darkened eyes of fire and blood
a wash in devils incense
beloved veiled
in evils cradle
bind not the demons kiss
then face down my love upon the crypt of mist
black heavens gate
pupa
vampires bate
a blood moon shaking
a scourge you are now
goddess of pleasures wretched
in the Tuileries of the abyss
consort
your every piercing fang
duck tail ****
a boiling cauldron
desire
spills out

dark cupid witch
legs tied to throat
devil ***** twitch
******* in a mote
ive got the itch
feet scorched in rope
hot ******* *****
hells dark pope

vampiress *****
dark girl feeding
the sun is no more
loves the bleeding
****** horror
Benji James Sep 2018
Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

Need a hand
Here hold mine tight
Need an ear, I’m here
Let out all your frustrations
That are weighing you down
In your emotions
Won’t let you drown
There is always a way out
Tell me all the nightmares
That keep you awake at night
Let me take them out of your mind
Demons hunted me down
But I cast them out
Listen my little queen
You just gotta take some time to see
Look deep inside and realise
You can beat these challenges
Laid before your feet
I’ve got faith more than belief
Open your eyes real wide
Let your heart be your guide
Instinct won’t steer you wrong
You’ve got power deep within
Let it out to fly
Fill the world with pure light

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

You’ve written songs in the dark
Been bruised, been scarred
Still beautiful, still art
Can’t take away all these lessons learned
The fires in your eyes
Come on girl
Ignite those stars
Make them shine bright
Encrypted in twilight skies
Memories etched into your mind
A smile begins to take place
Rosie cheeks light your face
Hair sways slowly in the wind
Such a pretty picture
Captured in a frame
Deep inside she pushes down her pain

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

I see beyond your lit up eyes
Deep inside you want to cry
Hurt yourself, leave scars
Now you are marked on the outside
From the frustrations and hurt
Breaking apart your insides
It’s tearing up your heart
Eating at your conscience
Why is it you always feel responsible,
When it’s not your fault
All the damage caused
even those mistakes
Aren’t yours to bare
To ******* yourself
Your feelings you wish to share
Trust in people was hard to find
Locked in your room
Pillow tight
Till sleep you cried

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

You grow a little more everyday
Take a step, take a breath
Just breathe, easy angel
You’ll see this world
It’s yours for the taking
Even with all these shattered parts
You can still mend the heart
Even scars fade with time
Need to learn to capture the thrill
On this roller coaster life
Take a look back
See how far it is you’ve come
All these races you have run
Each mountain peak climbed
Come so far, got a long way to go
Take a moment to enjoy the ride
Doing so well it all gets better with time
Beautiful girl with the adventurous heart
She has a new road to start
Take a look back at the trails blazed
Then to your future you can make your way.

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

©2018 Written By Benji James
My mouth blooms like a cut.
I've been wronged all year, tedious
nights, nothing but rough elbows in them
and delicate boxes of Kleenex calling crybaby
crybaby , you fool!

Before today my body was useless.
Now it's tearing at its square corners.
It's tearing old Mary's garments off, knot by knot
and see -- Now it's shot full of these electric bolts.
Zing! A resurrection!

Once it was a boat, quite wooden
and with no business, no salt water under it
and in need of some paint. It was no more
than a group of boards. But you hoisted her, rigged her.
She's been elected.

My nerves are turned on. I hear them like
musical instruments. Where there was silence
the drums, the strings are incurably playing. You did this.
Pure genius at work. Darling, the composer has stepped
into fire.

— The End —