Five Mornings

I remember that morning –
Beeing funny with pleid and a book
Having pure innocent look
I was happy of feeling myself
Reading George Sand and beeing twelve!

I remember that morning –
I’ve gathered it with million pieces...
With the memories... with tender kisses...
I was sad of feeling myself
Knowing someone loved had left...

I remember that morning –
When I knew what to do
And I wasn’t afreid to look like a fool
I was rept of feeling myself
Making my dream come true till the end!

I remember that morning –
Open eyes for whole night... mourning...
Paper world of mine was falling
I was empty of feeling myself
Wishing that person not to be dead...

I remember that morning –
Waking up with a pen in my hands
Reading up story that never ends
I was glad of feeling myself
Seeing writtnings gave me such help!

I remember that morning forever!


Hope of Morning

I’m dying...
This is the time
When I know that I am!
Staring
At empty entity
Of window I have felt –
My fear has gone away!

I’m feeling sorry
For loosing life
In things I’m not suppused to be!
But this is glory
To open eyes
Before the point where I must leave!

I breath so quite
And look for a star
Which’s melting in the dawn sky...

I’ve catched my mind –
I’ll be all right
Till hope of morning will not die!


Lady-Hawk

There is a story of painful morning,
Of evil changing and endless fading...
There is a story of something immortal –
Tears and betrayal, love and a prayer!

I sing and sing:
The daugter of the night
Is looking for the knight...
But black wolf is a friend of her life....
I sing... sing... sing...
Oh, Lady, where is your dream?

I say and say:
The knight of justice is sad
High in the sky he has left
His only hawk-friend!
I say... say... say...
Oh, Knight, can you ever pray again?

I cry and cry...
What have they done
To be parted by day and night
To be cursed for the love?!
I cry... cry... cry...
‘Cause Lady-Hawk never see the Wolf-Knight!

There is a story of painful morning
When they have less then one moment
To see each other’s eyes
To tear forever their life...

There is a story of painful evening
An instant is burning their feeling
Another piece of hope to find
Their love with no day and no night!

__________________

...the children of chernobyl...

November

Rising,
a storm gathers.

There builds the dark fury,
clouds forming together
and creeping
so quiet
in dreams.

And in her love's eyes,
he is seen.
Their child,
their miracle,
their chance for a future
at ease.

Once a hope, dreamt upon,
now in actual flesh,
royal bone.
The soul has been chosen
from the stars,
from their hearts...
and placed as a small,
squalling prince.

The break of the storm begins.

Tears from her eyes
drift on down.

Her son will be all
that remains.

So small, saggitarius,
yet come morning
you'll have risen
as king.

__________________

__________________

Forbidden Fruit

If I were to taste the corners of your frigid mouth
would my own lips burn with the heat of a million flames?
You are tainted, forbidden fruit. The proverbial apple,
fall of paradise and curse of Eve.

Yet you are Heaven in a handbasket and Hell in a ice storm.
Warm, wonderful words formed by your accursed lips and
cold calculating deeds done by your hands.

Demonic captor or fallen man? Son of the preacher or of Sam?
Serpent tongue, eyes like swords burrowing thru my flesh and bone
'til the sting of reality hits every once sleeping nerve.

I continue along my crooked path seeking you always
but stopping before I find the golden key.
To drink of my all knowing chalice is not your right.
To burn eternally underneath your icy all seeing stares is not mine.
Eden's lost nothing but gained another admirer.
Alone I walk again blame engulfing, consuming in its fiery last hurrah.

Tempted and tortured, Godly and Godless.
Worthy and worthless. I burn.

__________________
If it looks like a skunk and smells like a skunk, it aint no kitty cat......

The house was old, as were the memories in it
I ventured back as I had many times before
It was time to bury the demons here
and finally settle the score

It seemed to laugh at me and my plan of escape
It sensed my fear and fed off of my despair
I knew it was time to bury the pain
and I gave it one last long hard stare

As I lit the match I knew that there would be no going back
I calmly stood back and watched the engulfing flame
It was then I realized through all the smoke
my feelings were the same

As ashes fell I understood that the demons possessed my heart
The pain had not escaped me or smoldered in the blaze
It was still right there waiting
tormenting the rest of my days

There was no sense in escaping, the damage had been done
Long before the fire, there was the sinister burn
You can not escape your past I have found
Yet, too little, too late to learn

__________________
Seems so far that I have gone down this road, only to find that it ends...
“We expect our lives to be happy, trouble free and victorious. We forget that victories come only after we fight battles.”

__________________
Come join!

Burn

Equations go up in flames
My eyes are on fire
As the scene reflects on the
Convex glass I always pretended
I didn't need.

It purifies and burns away
Everytime I was hated.
Sitting in the library
Reading Stephen King even
though the red stickers forbid
me to imagine a better life.

For the times I tried to get away
From all the "art" lessons where
My fantasies were not allowed
And my favourite artists were
Condemned, I burn my sketchpad
And break my pencils.

It's all wasted in the dragon
Tongues that spit on the times
RE teachers pretended they were
not preaching the word of salvation.

For the time my favourite works of
Literature were torn apart, I burn
the contents of my bag.

The burning takes my uniform
That I'll never have to wear again.
I have been taught it is alright to
Intimidate and bully, so long as
The shirt is tucked in.

__________________

Burn

What I purged now wastes his needle scarred skin
Like the flame-licked pages residing within
Fermenting demon’s relief with clover’s luck struck
Six-Six-Six, lover’s lane enough for Devil’s nip and tuck

Howls of greed beseeched my tired wasted need
Of what this drug like infancy cannot ever feed

Fallen before branches bleached by parasite
This dancing whirl of scarcely fed yellow-white
Find me now without words as he turns and leaves
Tom’s riddle that cried wolf that no one believes
Anger fed lies at the sight of retched black and white
3 a.m. - morning’s revelations cannot care of might

Forgotten tides never shown, emotions dulled
Never thought this void would soon become; soul hulled

Sunshine ignored and left to fester, only to pester
Somehow wishing for this loss to bring me closer
But to this end of blank pages only dirty looks
Like winding vines collapsing upon re-shelved books

Dreams of calmed minds of mine never realized
As I burn, calloused crimson suicide, paralyzed
How much swept away feelings, petty things or shimmers
Drowning the darkness inside that incessantly glimmers
Fraught with envy, pores like the tired old maid
Just as the childless do, as this flame will fade

Preposterous revelations, and rusted cross I beckon to
To be without sin like the hypocrites and challenged do

Clasped hands before knees quivering hoping this isn’t true
As cinders cool, ashes swaying by burn-slashed feet
Moved to dance upon the floor as though by invisible hands
Eyes gazing into flames, shadowed by its furtive demands

Swan’s wandering calls of dying smiles murmured aghast
Finding what this rage has undone at last
Cold deafening parasites, ears muffled by fingers near
Calls of lies and mirrors clamoring “never sincere”

Bowing as though a stage has fallen before her
A ballerina’s tangled shoe’s whose tattered rags cling yet scatter
Rat’s remains before fire place ripped apart decomposing
And chandelier’s candles snuffed, swinging askew creaking

Peering into a past she’d wished she’d known in vain
She’d chosen to walk a path, a sloth, welcoming pain

Crow’s incessant cries foreshadowing death that coincides
With emblazoned coals, willow’s vampires, and mermaid cries
Cackling clowns strewn across purged candy canes
And a child’s twenty-two, cowering with hopes of shame
Yet calmed in this sorrow-place, looking into the flames
As it burns away…

Ooh! I wrote this poem about a month ago and it just so happens to be titled The Burn. I must submit...to the handcuffs.

The Burn
Speared residence
No hesitance
Spare precedence
Surface to air
Treasure chest
Dirt and debris
Mercury sea
Orange cloud flee
Burning up
Turning up
Downtrodden it
Drained bog sit
Merciless
Those turbulent
Scream and shout
Flipping out
Holding you
Turn a clue
Eagle flew
Side road
Rock erode
Bouncing round
Slamming sound
Dreaming to escape
Living to return