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12th Grade: '04-'05

can you tell what i like? crayon!! hahah! and kitties.

As I stare into your brillent blue eyes,
Hope brushes my mind with butterfly wings
I'm linked to you with unbreakable ties
But I must pull away, stretching the strings.

I try to whisper that the pain wont last
I feel the lie sinking into my heart
Carefree delight is thing of the past
The cold loneliness is so bitter tart

bright crystal tears drip slowly down your cheek,
you brush them off with a slender white finger,
the pain is back, I know my smile is weak
memories of your face will always linger

I cannot live with you and remain sane
Yet as I leave I am shadowed with rain

Soaring, roaring, wild and untamed,
Streaming exctasy makes the heart sing
Pleasure merges into one with pain.

Flying, crying, over a great plain
Wind streams under invisible wing
Soaring, roaring, wild and untamed.

Lifting, twisting, impossible to feign,
Hot molen joy makes the ears ring,
Pleasure merges into one with pain.

Rushing, gusting, wind begins to wain,
Still it continues this free and floating thing,
Soaring, roaring, wild and untamed.

Lancing, glancing, in a fiery rain,
The fearless flyer savors the sting,
Pleasure merges into one with pain.

Leather tethers strive to bind in vain,
Tangled webs slow it none: simple string,
Soaring, roaring, wild and untamed,
Pleasure merges into one with pain.

The Artist
The slender silver pen
Poises over the clean white page
Like a razor sharp surgeons scalpel
Preparing to cut deep into the subject
Revealing its red and beating heart

The heavy gilt picture frame
Smashes to the floor
Like a mine exploding
Crashing throughout the house
Spraying out shrapnel with a deathly glitter

The little
Black puppy

Folding its legs

As it slowly
On the bed

Small stubby tail

So much depends

The old straw hat
Frayed and worn

Hanging quietly
On its little yellow peg
By the screen door

Patiently waiting
That bright
Summer day

Wild Thing
She is the bird
The one you see soaring up above the world
Her wings stretch out so far they strain the eye
Her brilliant plumage like a tropical flower
Even when you turn your head
She glows in the corner of your eye
Her bright fierce gaze falls on you like a weight
Freezing you
So its hard to see the soft down
That hides under glossy feathers

It is perfect building material
Be it castle wall or roof for a hidden fort

Or the weapon of choice
For a roomful of happily screaming children

It is the protecting arms that enfold you
As you let your weary body collapse

The ear that listens quietly
Throughout all hours of the night

It is a soft shoulder to cry on
Who doesn’t mind a dampened shirt

A safe outlet for anger
The uncomplaining punching bag

Calm, loving, unquestioning
The faithful friend forever.

Stage Struck
The jaunty jay tips his top hat at
The daintily dancing damsel
She smiles sweetly as she spins
And boldly blows him a carmine kiss
As the curtains close slowly over the silvery stage

I dont know how it happened
The chill wind erodes my memory
The aching bite of unforgiving stone numbs my mind
Sharp and hard like his eyes
None of her fire, her passion
So warm; she was so warm
Soft, so tender, small neck
So delicate
So alive
She danced like a flickering flame
She was burning up from the inside, her heat so strong
I just wanted to feel it
Share it
Take it
I'm so cold
I thought her fires could warm me
Her soft neck, so slim
So warm under my hands,
The pulse of her life so strong
His eyes
Like blue steel, flinty pebbles flat and empty
Sucking away all the warmth of my body
Like hers, so small
Lying on the floor, blue dress pail skin
Where did her fire go?
It was not in her blood
The flame died out so quickly
Warmth fleeing, red darkening to black
And his eyes
How they cut into my heart
The frost in his eyes drives me to my knees in soft white snow
Will I never be warm?

I try to hold my smile
But you are taking so long
My lips twitch, wishing to cover my teeth
They feel so naked
Out in the air
My face is fake
I wait
Wondering when it will come
The click
The flash
The release

What are you thinking as you stand there?
You smile so sweetly
Laugh lines hiding your eyes
What do they say?
The shutters are down
Closing out the world
But inside
Are you crying?

I wish you could have seen us then

Before time etched lines around our eyes
Before tears wore tracks down our faces
Before gravity with its relentless pull
Bent our backs, weighted our hearts

I wish you could have heard us then

Before we lost our bets
Before our cars were stolen
Before our dreams were analyzed
Before our words grew old and tired

I wish you could have known us then

Before we’d lived our lives

In a sea
Of blue jean
Little legs
Propelling swiftly
Over a fold
Through a crevice
Only to find
Another mountain to scale
Rough material
Clinging feet
Little feelers brush the cloth
Frantic movement
The blue desert
Stretches out
Covering the horizon

cat. one of my favorite sketches ive done so far.

The painting sits in the back corner
2nd shelf of an abandoned bookcase
gathering dust beside the jar of marbles
sharp dark lines wounds across white
one bright splash of color
like a drop of blood fallen
form the quivering paint brush suspended
above the yearning canvas
the blank surface cries for color
sucks the life out of the smear of paint
striving to fill itself
always needing more
sitting with the old photos
strewn across the floor like autumn leaves
frozen moments
it waits
for animation
for the life it can taste
that it has taken from the paint
that vivid drop
the dust smothers it
behind a mask of grey
always planned
are never completed.

Floor so cold
On bare feet
Slick smooth tile
White and blue
Checkered like me

The sky
So bright
It burns
My mouth
So I cant taste
For days

Cold Wind Blows
my dearest darling, how I will miss you when you are gone
the bright artic morning skies ablaze with light
will be lonesome without your soft song
how will I rise to great the sun
knowing I am alone
at night I hear the wolves howl in sympathy
I am lost in the ice sea though I am still at home
No babble of children no muter of men
No chatter of women no breath of the people
How silent it will be then
Already the jingle of sleigh traces begins to fade
Your departure seems to take with it all the breath in my body
I sit in my hut and stare long at the fire you have made
As the fire burns lower I begin to feel the age in my bones
Cold winds bite deep at old work worn joints
I can hear the breath of the ocean
The water crashes and foams
But above it the call of death begins to grow loud
The padding of feet yipping and snarling
Hungry snuffles
A sharp black face pokes into my hut its eyes wise and proud
With an understanding sigh
I prepare to give my soul back to the artic.

A poster ripples in the fan’s slight breeze as I walk in.
The empty spot on my shelf glares at me from the door.
Tumbled on its side, the cage lies on the ground,
Scattered seed around it. Water drips softly.

Curled up, wings folded, feet tucked close to his downy chest,
He lies. No flutter of breath moves his breast.

I reach in and gently stroke soft green feathers,
Curling my fingers around him, I cup him in my palm.
He’s so cool and light. So fragile,
His wings stiff, no shiver of life in his small form.

I gently wrap his little figure in a small square of cloth.
Setting him down, I replace the cage
And straighten the dangling perch, then
I refill the food box
With a little yellow scoop,
and put fresh water in the bowl.
The small white shroud is very still beside the bright, colorful cage.

That afternoon I bury him in my old garden,
The helpless little body is quickly covered in moist earth.
I call momma to see if the little yellow parakeet’s still at the store.
It is.

Bed Time Stories
the painting is mine. Mother gave it to me. She told me to love it, to learn from it. It hangs on my wall, a window into another world. Its occupants are as real as my reflection beside it. The gypsies stare into my eyes, they tell me long stories and sing me sad tales. Deep into the night they sit, clustered around their fire. The caravan rests behind them. The wagons have the comforting presence of watchful parents. When the moon hides behind the clouds, they move about with small rustling sounds. In the dark of my room, I hear their whispered conversation above the crackling flames. If I stretch out my toes, I can share the warmth of their fire.

The cold makes my bones ache. I can almost see the chill air creeping across the frozen floor, to wrap skeletal fingers around my ankles, binding them down to the ground. The cold steals the breath from my body, putting its clammy lips against mine to suck away my warmth. The cold stiffens my skin, changing its soft suppleness to white marble, thin and brittle. It leaches the color from my eyes, changing warm red and vibrant green into dull washed out ice. My mind slows as the air thickens with cold. The thoughts cannot pass through it. They must struggle to move. The cold wraps me in its burning embrace, trailing hard nails down my back and across my face. My soul retreats, abandoning my body to its doom.

Night on the Cliffs
she started across the shadowed rocks
then froze on the edge of the cliff
like a deer transfixed
seeing its doom in the approaching light
the wind called with a sorrowful voice
as the foreboding clouds hovered above
hiding the faint light of the moon
the rain whipped small needles across her pale cheeks
her white feet stained red with the blood of blackberry brambles
with a small sigh she spread her wings
and flew

sharp smell of ozone
bitter tang bites at the nose
promise of power

The Room
white light glares bright on
hard rectangular corners
the eye shies away

coppery sweet smell
chokes the throat with lost memories
the light fades away.

Pigeon PIe
the pigeon flutters past the window
wings a gentle curve
the soft feminity of its neck
strives to be a swan
abruptly tumbles to the ground
the blooming flower on its chest
a mirror to the brilliant elderberry
fallen on the snow

Night Lives
Soft beams rest easy on the eye
The dusky sun shedding its waning light
Bright red gold on lakes it gleams
Splitting the world into black and white
Refusing to give up the daily struggle
Retreating slowly before impeding night

Away, warm day, time now for night
Colors and contrast fade from the eyes
Through the thick dark clouds it struggles
The pale shining glimmer of moonlight
Starts peeking through now, burning white
O’er a land clad in darkness they gleam

Creatures fro whom the sun too bright gleams
Furred and fanged, large and small, shadows of the night
They all hide form day that burns too white
Keen of ear, sharp of eye,
Seeking shadows to hide from light
Out of sleep to eat and run and struggle

This small beast will not die without a struggle
In a hollow, eyes blink and gleam
Mouse creeps out, unheard steps so light
Staring, glaring, out into the night
Scenting for danger, straining its eye
Nose twitches quickly, soft fur is white

The great owl, moon shining on face white
Winging above the trees, searching to end all struggle
A hard yellow, merciless, predatory eye
Upon sighting small frozen bodies it gleams
Swooping down, silent death in the night
Little beast will never again have to run from the light

Wolves streak through forest like rays of light
Dappled grey, brown black and white
Running, hunting through the night
Death with quick snap of jaws, no breath for struggle
Howling to the moons lonely gleam
Looking down upon them with a cold eye

The first light over the horizon struggles
Blinding white it gleams
Creatures of the night flee before its hot eye.

The Killer
The fire burning in my breast
Sends glowing warmth to al my limbs
Your swaying hips that fan the flames
Hot molten blood pounds through my veins

The copper taste that floods my mouth
Twines with sharp oiled steel
Spice bite of black gun powder
Lust is in the air

My hungry eyes ravage soft curves
Preparing to float into ecstasy
My hands tense on the trigger
Pulling me to heaven

Judgement Day
The dark bleak night of judgment time grows near
Sinners, saints, all fall to the ground so cold
Trembling, shaking, wailing in deathly fear
Blinded by the terrible light foretold

Burning, freezing, soft flesh melts from white bone
The lies of life burn away in a blink
They quiver before the eyes, hard as stone
Freezing them, now impossible to think

All will suffer, all will know of the pain
That they inflicted upon the earth
Tears fall on the ground as bitter rain
They scream in condemnation of their birth

The merciless eyes survey the suffering souls
Judgment day has taken its painful toll.

Crimson mouth so tender soft
Flinging words that sting
Candied lips, red and sweet
Spitting spiteful hurtful things
Carmine smile, glossy sheen
No comfort for the hurt they bring

Mistake in Red
The sky is on fire tonight, its burning red
Like love, like loss, like pumping blood its red

Silhouetted against the dieing sun a figure hunched
Round its body bend a flaming halo glows red

From the depths of a constricted throat comes the cry
Staining cracked lips the color of its pain, red

Waning light turns crimson sky to black
Yet still the raw wounds bleed, tinting the air red

Curling words of deceit fall from limp fingers
Though regretted now, they one with little care were read

Foolish mortal, to have signed your precious soul away
Your deep cut name binds you in dark red

Ode to Time
Ah Cronos
How patiently you wait
Counting seconds of silver sand
Glowing flowing by
Infinite moments suspended in glass
How they hover and spin
Dancing in your eyes
An eternity of waiting
Clicking ticking clocks
Only you will always be
Ancient and unmoving
Ah father time
You watch with care
As the world slips through or fingers
Only you know
The world cannot be kept
Everything crumbles under your heavy hand
Grinding on relentlessly endlessly
Swiftly flashing lives
Blink and dim
Burst into flickering stars
Sand grains disappear from sight
Countless particles raining down falling

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