Cradle

Cradle ~

There is a cradle in the snow,

that rocks itself, divinely gentle,

nourishment for its babe,

who rests within the folds of,

unexpected stories, told,

only in the days of old,

when Jesus walked in yards of light,

which fell in glistening sashes.

The baby rocks, in loving bows,

and lifts a hand upon its chest,

while stories of love pour without,

whispering the songs of love,

begging the ears, sweet and tender,

to understand man's mistake,

to forgive those who'd made it suffer,

and the oldest song-

that which is the most complicated for all of us to understand,

is taken to the heart and mind,

of this little babe,

who floats away from this difficult life,

soft and tranquil . . .

Bitter Musing

~ Bitter Musing ~

The bitter taste,

the bitter taste of sour tea

I did not take the mean black, poignant gleam,

that shimmered in a whirring-circled, roiling stir,

and left me musing over its moor,

to take me back again where I love best,

where my heart can sing in sweet rapture,

where the birds glow and flit and cry,

their cadences, and I gently rest, with my hands splayed,

before the dynamics of them . . .

take me away from the sour taste,

the cold anchoring of my hands, upon-

it cruel distaste,

and burn me not, while I sit here and deeply ponder over its,

shimmering boil, hatred filled heat,

and the blackened tornado,

when the birds flit out of my minds eye,

and I become aware of my mooring, 'gain,

sitting and gently resting with the

seeing them in my minds eye,

as I listen to the cadences,

of a places that passes above me,

somewhere in my brain within me,

somewhere, somewhere I cannot see,

and the sounds finally fade,

filling me with nothing but this dark taste,

the flows along my tongue now burning,

trembling with the sour thought-

and deep distaste . . .

Agonizing Love

Note: Is it always so difficult to love someone who has an uncertain past? How capable is the human body of loving, in spite of a conditional circumstance?

[Warning: Contains dark content. Read at your own risk]

  

Agonizing Love ~

This body which has torn and ravaged,

the blackened souls which it has touched,

a physical force with strength untrammeled,

the charcoal color in which I dipped each soul . . .  

I painted every semblance of their skin,

black with my physical paintbrush,

 and every portal of their minds charcoal,

watched as the gleam in each eye, blue or hazel,

darkened immediately upon my artistic choice,

darkening those thoughts of sweetness,

killing them with my black body, soul,

the fear I caused, the shivering pain,

the blood which dripped between them. . .

the charcoal which colored them,

it was all because of me.

My body sought among this evil,

looking for elements of pain,

they became one with my own internment,

the acts became a cage . . .

one for my own pain.

The guilt I live with now for it,

is comprised of sins unsaid,

My has ravaged the souls of many,

torn these virgins from precious glass orbs,

the moment that I slipped inside them, into white,

and colored them with my blackness . . .

though stitched them up again, to staunch the bleeding-

the best that I could manage.

As I laid down beside her, now thinking,

that I am not good enough for love,

that her blessed purity has killed all my feelings,

for anything save hatred and revulsion,

the terms float before my vision,

and mocks my saddened gaze,

as I wonder at what I have done to her,

this tiny flutter between my breast,

blossoming from this small stem,

that lays beneath me still, in solace,

who refuses to leave me and my poison.

Oh, why can I not leave the burden,

of my self-hatred,

to anyone else save for her,

why did I need to fall in love at last,

and taint her with all of my pain, myself?