In the hour of death, after this life’s whim,
When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim,
And pain has exhausted every limb—
  The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.

When the will has forgotten the lifelong aim,
And the mind can only disgrace its fame,
And a man is uncertain of his own name—
  The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.

When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed,
And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
And the widow and child forsake the dead—
  The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.

For even the purest delight may pall,
And power must fail, and the pride must fall,
And the love of the dearest friends grow small—
  But the glory of the Lord is all in all.

Romance once lived in a tragic heart.
Released.
Now she dances.
Only through the catacombs of ancient Rome.
Where Latin lovers once lived.

Love is a larceny.
A tragic crime in time.
Sent to prison.
For crimes not committed by woman.
Nor man.
Insulted by emotions.

Playing games of idiocy.
In idiosyncratic ways.
Left awarded only agony.
Prize for suffering such pain.
Pain not caused by self.
Self trapped.
With eyes wide shut.

Unseeing eyes.
Hiding secrets.
Broken.
Away from the world.
Don't want to love again.

One more love would be a wonder.
Seared by pain.
Won't love again.
Scared to love again and lose.
Unjustly executed.
Believes emotion's dead!




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

What is the hardest part
                    Of being alone?
It's the quietness,
A stillness making
What ought have been a home-
a house.
It's filled with beds,
But those lover's nests
Are             Empty.
And the thought is
As occupying as a dream.
A dream you cannot feel
Because the loneliness is keeping you awake

With no one to hold down your fears
         And keep you safe.

this city
smells of
cheap perfume
bad habits
long nights
stale beer
and regret
the grunge
the people
tell us the story
of creation
and destruction
teaching people
how to be
human

The earth may ring, from shore to shore,
  With echoes of a glorious name,
But he, whose loss our tears deplore,
  Has left behind him more than fame.

For when the death-frost came to lie
  On Leggett's warm and mighty heart,
And quenched his bold and friendly eye,
  His spirit did not all depart.

The words of fire that from his pen
  Were flung upon the fervent page,
Still move, still shake the hearts of men,
  Amid a cold and coward age.

His love of truth, too warm, too strong
  For Hope or Fear to chain or chill,
His hate of tyranny and wrong,
  Burn in the ******* he kindled still.

When I was younger, I used to stare into my mirror
and see not the yellow of my skin
nor the slant of my eyes.
I used to see a cop
a robber
sometimes a Power Ranger or Pokemon trainer.

When I grew older, I was still blind to me
but they were not. They saw the yellow of my skin
and the slant of my eyes
the black of my hair
And for the first time.
So did I.

I heard the ching chang chongs
and wondered what it meant
and if it meant anything at all.

I learned years later that it meant nothing.
It held no translational meaning to those whom it may have applied
but to me
to them
it meant that I did not belong.
I would not belong.

When I was younger, but somehow older,
I was taught that I was different.
I was taught that I would never be the same
and to keep my head from being crushed by the
waves of their learned behaviors that I had to be the same
as everyone around me but I was taught that I was different.

And that it wasn't only skin deep.

-trj

Oh, will you ever return to me,
My wild first force, will you return
When the old madness comes to
Blacken in me and to burn
Slow in my brain like a slow fire
In a blackened brazier - dull
like a smear of blood,
Humid and hot evil, slow-sweltering
up in a flood!
Oh, will you not come back, my fierce song?
Jubilant and exultant, triumphing over
the huge wrong
of that slow fire of madness that feeds
on me - the slow mad blood
thick with its hate and evil, sweltering
up in its flood!
Oh! will you not purge it from me -
my wild lost flame?
Come and restore me, save me from the
intolerable shame
Of that huge eye that eats into my
Naked body constantly
And has no name,
Gazing upon me from the immense and
Cruel bareness of the sky
That leaves no mercy of concealment
That gives no promise of revealment
And that drives us on forever with its
lidless eye
Across a huge and houseless level of
a planetary vacancy
Oh, wild song and fury, fire and flame,
Lost magic of my youth return, defend
me from this shame!
And Oh! You golden vengeance of bright
song
Not cure but answer to earth's wrong