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8/25/13Sometimes I like to close my eyes
And imagine that he's tracing his fingers
Up my neck and through my hair
And that I'm okay with it.
Because that's the thing about losing yourself:
That any form of contact is devastating;
Where you actually start to believe
That this empty shell of a body
But that's what's devastating:
When you find out
The Altar Beneath the Sun
It was getting worse, this madness that slithered everywhere Elm could get his claws on, and it would be too late if action wasn't taken soon. Birch was desperate, after all wasn't he dirtied enough by his elder brother’s actions? He had to save his siblings at least, to protect them from themselves. But the preparations were necessary to help defeat this foe, and Birch knew what he had to do.
He knelt before a stone altar, the center of his territory in the Grove, shaded by the vast canopies of the dozens of trees that surrounded it. No one ever came there but him. In fact, most of his siblings seemed to forget his existence at times, but that was fine with him, he knew his purpose was to be the messenger, not the message; the hilt, not the blade. But what was the message? What was the blade?
Acacia, the savior.
Acacia, the light in the dark.
Acacia, who was nowhere to be seen.
Birch had never really understood Acacia’s position, she was and yet wasn't, she existed and yet
NightshadeCypress didn't really understand why she came there, this cave that sat like a void in the Grove, an abomination to her father’s will, the mouth of death, gaping with sweet promises of solitude, but she resisted such thoughts, she had other plans. This, after all, was the result of Elm’s fight against his imprisonment, a deep crater, one of quite a few, created by his rage and hatred of Malus. Yet that was so long ago now, as Cypress could see from the bits of vegetation growing, as if trying to mask the scar of the battle; nature sometimes has a way of covering up mistakes.
She peered inside, squinting her eyes and leaning closer, anticipating any danger that might come her way, not that danger had any meaning to her (being immortal and whatnot). There was no danger, she knew, as a certain figure approached from the dark, cloaked in robes that seemed to reject the light itself, bearing a subservient aura that shook and struggled to even exist in a consistent form. There wa
You Were...You were a man
Whom I never knew, myself.
You were a soldier,
Serving his country in the smoke of war.
You were a drunk,
Cowering behind a putrid bottle.
You were a pig,
Getting his fill of all life’s carnal pleasures.
You were a beater
Whose fists knew no restraint.
You were a monster
To both your wife and children.
You were a father
Only by blood to those children.
You were a man,
Who lived his life and died.
You were my grandfather,
Whom I never knew, myself.
Elm and Cypress
Cypress thought it strange.
Strange for a visitor such as him to enter the Grove. After all, most guests to the home of the Children of Malus came unwillingly and were poor, sniveling, and trembling beings, worthless of even a second thought from the bitter Child. Yet this man before her had an air of confidence, or perhaps arrogance, and a smug look of self-entitlement, as if someone, somewhere, owed him something. That’s when he said to her: “Cypress, my dear, it’s been so long.”
She squinted her eyes at him, suspicious, “I don’t know you, mortal.”
And he laughed--how he laughed!--his mouth opened into a wide smile that showcased a set of jagged and horrid teeth, “Now, my dear, sweet, fragile Cypress, that is where you are wrong. As I am no mere mortal, and you do certainly know me.”
Then Cypress noticed the deep scratches that covered his body like sharp red flicks of a fountain pen on pale parchment, and she knew immediately tha
Birth of WisteriaAlone in the perennial abyss under the surface of the Grove, the primordial son whispered sweet nothings to the soil around him, clawing for release from his prison. He had been there since Malus, his father, had determined that he was too tainted to exist among the tranquility of the Grove, but tranquility is one of many things that can be easily tainted by his power. Digging his claws further in the soil, watching closely as the dirt curved under his fingers and cradled in his palm, a little clump let loose a tiny cry, and for the first time in his entire existence, he had hope. For if his father could make life from nothing, so could he.
Yet the life he held in his hands now, his little dirt child, was weak, but that could always be fixed.
The Welsh BloodI have the Welsh blood in me,
But it’s dead, dead and gone,
Flowing beneath my flesh
Like a bloated corpse
Faced down in a river.
I have the Welsh blood in me
But it’s freezing up inside,
Cracking great red fissures
In the cavities of my veins,
Flowing the great Red Dragon.
No more the Welsh blood in me,
With their proud intrepid ways,
Overthrown by the Brits
Allied by the Germans and French
On a genetic battlefield.
No more the lily-colored skies,
The rush-leaves of the mountain,
Nor that mountain’s misty peak.
Only the face of the conquerors
And the Hammer of the Scots.
The Dragon’s blood within
Is not in much anymore,
For it’s been bled and bled again,
By the pecking of the Eagle’s beak
And the Lion’s greedy claws.
I have the Welsh blood in me,
But it’s dead, dead and gone.
Yet there is no time for weeping,
For the tears aren’t mine to shed.
I, the diluted, bastard granddaughter
Of the Norse gods, the scholars,
And the Red
Drill Tooth"Pass along this message, love."
Said the Bird atop the Tree.
To which 'Drill Tooth' did reply,
"I shall and you shall see."
So down the trunk 'Drill Tooth' ran,
A scroll rolled up in his tail,
Down to where the Serpent lived
O'er dead souls that scream and wail.
Soon 'Drill Tooth' arrived in Hel,
Where the Serpent called his name,
"Ratatöskr, do come near'r,
And come play a little game."
So 'Drill Tooth' came upon call,
Staring back upon the Snake,
"I cannot, Nidhöggr, for
I've a message you must take."
"Very well, my furry friend,"
Said the Serpent with a purr,
"But you must com closer still!
Bring it here, Ratatöskr!"
And so was done as was told,
And the Serpent took it in,
And swallowed whole the message
And the messenger within!
As tales of immortals go,
The messenger's tale went on,
And he burrowed himself out
With his drill teeth and was gone.
Thus the message was received,
And the Serpent lived as well.
So ends this tale of 'Drill Tooth',
The Bird, and the Snake in Hel.
To J-Speak to me one word alone,
Whether it be of Hate or Love.
I'll hold it close, pressed to my heart,
And cherish each syllable.
I'll be your ugly Sappho
And write these words, for you, unread.
Cage this nightingale in your heart,
For I'll never fly away.
If one day you set me free,
And so command that I depart,
I'll listen to the word you say
And carry your memory.
If I were...If I were a creek
I would softly flow
a river I would seek
to become full and slow.
If I were the sea
I would hug the ground
I would hold the key
to show the world is round.
If I were a tree
I would spread my leafs
to reach high and feel free
to find some relief.
If I were a bird
I would fly very high
to see the whole world
and on it lay my eye.
If I were a cloud
I would cause a storm
I would be damn loud
so you hear me to perform.
If I were the Sun
I would love the Earth
I would let it run around
to the life I would give birth.
If I were a dream
I would kiss your lips
unreal I would seem.
Love me and don't miss.
BoundThe world is a beautiful place
when you can enjoy his embrace.
He is the one who makes you thrilled,
who makes you strong and fully healed.
The universe shines like diamonds
when you share with her the silence.
She protects you gently in her arms.
You feel overwhelmed and charmed.
The dusk brings happiness and joy
when you no longer feel like a toy.
Your sweet love flows all around.
You both are softly to each other bound.
Kristoff's Second Love poem to AnnaMy darling love shines like the bright sun when the morning sky is gray.
She is dutiful and still fun
she keeps me from dismay.
Her inner beauty may be hidden
yet her duty does suffice.
For her other men's gaze is forbidden
her beauty be more fair than ice.
In certain cases she's so hasty now
but in others she takes great care
Her faith and patience trust in God some how
she waits one day for her children soon to bare.
Can I describe this wondrous girl, or compare her to a dove?
Nay, I can not say much further but Anna has my love.
The Bluebird (Poem)I want so desperately to love you
but I fear I never will.
I am just a little bluebird
outside your window on the sill.
Always I am loving you,
peering through the glass so thin,
so close and yet so far away
for you will never let me in.
Outside I sing a song of passion
the music makes you smile, Dear,
but the words, they never reach you
and chirping sounds are all you hear.
The world is full of little bluebirds
singing to each other, too,
but I can’t sing for other bluebirds.
I can only sing for you.
One Last ChanceCan you hear me trying to fight
Can you see me holding on tight
This connection I don't wanna lose
But for who I wanna love, its you I choose
Can you see the stars in the sky
Imagine friendships growing that high
Take a second glance
And please give me one last chance
I am sorry for the things I have done and said
For all this time I have cried in bed
I miss you being with me
You helped me let go of the past and be set free
Free from the darkness in my heart
Though I feel we are now worlds apart
Please just forgive me one last time
I promise you I wont make the crime
Since you have made my heart soar
I wish to be together once more
Please tell me we can and be better than the shining sun
For the battle of darkness, with you I know I will have won
Please just give me one more try
I promise I wont let our love and friendship die
For you I would give up everything again
To have you as my love, and have you as my friend
I Love YouI will never be one for words but
Leaving is not an
Option for I will try, even in
Vain, to show you that you mean
Everything to me
You are simply the love
Of my life and I will always treasure our
Derelicts and DevotionLike leaning bikes against the unused door,
Their wheels immobile, chains now brown with rust,
Decay awaits the things a man works for
That lay untouched and thick with grimy dust.
We think to leave it be would keep it well,
Away from operating stress and strain.
Alas, without the forces that compel
The heart no tender love could thus remain.
It takes one sight to miss you all the more,
A fleeting moment by your side to pain me,
But better that your memory I store
To push me down our faithful path and train me.
Propinquity and paradox must meet
If future fruitfulness should be as sweet.
CaptiveDon't want to see you go
I was hoping you'd stay a while
I love spending time with you
And seeing your lovely smile
To your beauty and zest
The sunrise can try
But it's second at best
My stomach gets butterflies
When you are near
And my heart beats faster
That's also clear
But when you're away
I'm stuck in a daydream
Recalling our time
Of yesterday's scheme
There's a song
That makes me think of you
I play it over and over
Until the day is through
And when I fall asleep
It's of us I dream
Catching a movie
Or picnicking by the stream
To add it all up
I get a little divided
When your presence
Is not provided
I know it sounds needy
But I kind of need you
When we are apart
Do you think of me too?
People say there are others
But I don't think it's true
I think of you too much
To find someone new
I'd given up on love
Until we met
You're the exception
And my mind is set
You caught my attention
Like no one else could
If loving you is bad
Then I don't want to be good
I am hereThe stars above
Do not compare
To the love
That we share
Your eyes so bright
Your life so dim
You try to stay alive
You try to fight and strive
When gone is your hopes
You pull the ropes
I am here
To wipe your tears
And remove that frown
No matter how bad it gets
If you want to die
Sit in the corner and start to cry
I am here
To dry your tears
And no one knows
Icarus LoveYou are my Apollo, shining so bright,
And I, ambitious Icarus in flight,
Wings of cold wax and smooth, bending feather
Carrying my form above the Aether.
For you are my ambition, burning my flesh,
Tearing my mind in a love so afresh
As I soar above the deep, hallowed sea,
Approaching fast your clinquant brilliancy.
Yet as I draw nearer and nearer still
The wax of my wings fall, against my will,
Twisting and turning, invisible hands
Pulling me back to the drowning black sands.
Thus is when the fire comes, rending my back,
Burning light, crackling of feathers singed black.
No hope for me, yet I still know my love
For you, shining sun in the sea above,
As I fall, splashing into dark ocean,
Forever to gaze, death in slow motion,
I know that seeing is all that I need,
To simply see you, beyond the seaweed
And these walls of water and atmosphere.
For when I see you, I've nothing to fear,
Not even death, and fire, and earthly frights
Can tear my love asunder. The nights
Come fast, but I shan'
On preparing to never let goWalking slowly down the hall, arms filled with the day's mail, we spoke of morbid things.
She wants to be reduced to ash and I want to know if I can keep her on my mantle.
She looks at me sideways with a curious face and forgets her footsteps.
It's a little bit morbid, she tells me, deciding it's time to continue shuffling along,
but I think the way I'm trying to picture her perfect urn is probably worse.
There's nothing that I can think of that suits her, though,
and I wonder if I even know her.
Do I scatter you somewhere? You can't visit scatter.
(I think good daughters plant guilt in the carpet pile to trip upon.)
But she doesn't trip, instead she ruminates on how appalling it'd be to divide her in fourths:
she laughs as she's divvying up her body parts for our mantles.
I tell her we'll set up a custody schedule, but only between my closest sister and me;
we're the ones that take care of her. But in reality, I'm not planning on sharing.
She tells me she wants to be in the n
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