12. November 2006, 16:33
Autumn's Child
A tiny girl stands quivering in the cool breeze under the muted autumn sun. Evening falls around her, breathing hints of beauty, beauty so rare.
Tiny hands are shoved into the holey pockets of a beloved and battered mossy green jacket, as a golden head extends upwards towards the eastern sky. Little lips move slowly, forming requests, smiling softly, attempting to be winning. “Surely you won’t refuse me if I’m cute enough?”
A deep sigh wafts along with the breeze.
This little one shuffles around slowly, circumnavigating a house to her little bedroom. The heat pulls off her shoes and jacket for her and she lays on her back in the dark on the floor, smiling small. Smiling a smile which conceals a beautiful secret.
Daylog Poetry 0 comments permalink
23. October 2006, 13:17
Clouds So Smug
Enveloped by a blanket of sound, story and sweater in the midst of a cool rush of air. The screen door acts as a sieve, filtering away the muggy warmth of the outer air, letting in only the cool and fresh and the scent of wetness. Nose quivers with delight at the soothing autumnal air. The weather is teasing, playing, toying, and I can’t help but fall for its tricks.
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22. October 2006, 15:23
Hush
Shy sun peeks through a gap in thickly veiled grey sky on heavy lidded blue eyes of a little reader lulled into sleep by an undulating rhythm of words. Singing wafts faint. Rosy lips smile slight. One quiet, pretty moment in the restless sea.
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17. September 2005, 00:52
A Quiet Return
Frustration, madness, and pressure are giving way to peace, contentment, and determination…finally? What pulled me together? Am I pulling together? Did the coils of long distance strain too much?
I just want to put all of this behind me. I think, and I dearly hope, that all of my bitter words and suffocating silences are finally falling away. I didn’t force them off, I didn’t scream and tear them away, I just closed my eyes and turned my face to the sun and drowsed in a daydream. I imagined them gone. And so they loosed. They slipped slowly away, for not being fed by my thoughts. Perhaps then, I should say that I starved them…and a breath of tranquil silence wafted them away. I can’t provide them with sustenance again. So I won’t recount it in detail…
I will…I would…I want to float so far away from all that. Us, to float away. Brush my lips against your fevered brow. Cool you, comfort you, caress you into a healthy, sunny warmth. I long for more than to feel you as a tickle and a yearning in the depths of my heart. I wish to gather you soft and solid in my arms, drink the nectar of pleasure from the quivering fullness of your eager lips. I am your wistful butterfly. I fly, fly free again. I flutter for to see you… I am slipping back to peace but it’s an unspeakable matter. I’ll heal. All I yearn for now is you…close…
P.S. I have a date with the ACTs on October 22.
Daylog Poetry 2 comments permalink
31. July 2005, 22:32
Twixt Earth and Sky
(first poem in several months, sprung from a game of poetry tag. purposely appropriate for certain sunny days gone by…)
Brown halos
gold streaks
in
pretty eyes
which
scatter sunshine smiles
round
creamy silken
petals white
of
daisy child
who
drinks his daylight
with
laughing desire
Poetry 1 comment permalink
3. June 2005, 16:00
Fairy Books
The last gold edged page lays open before you. In the center of the page stand big, Gothic letters, decorated with pink and white flower laden vines that merrily declare, “Happily Ever After…”
Did you catch the ellipsis? No? That’s because it’s too small. If you squint, look harder, get a magnifying glass, you’ll catch it. And scrawled in the tiniest hand underneath these letters, it says “to be continued.” Because maybe the cynics were wrong, and it’s not impossible to live happily ever after, but they just have the meaning of the happiness wrong. And what’s a black spot on the happiness here and there? Even with blemishes, it’s still happily ever after.
But the to be continued is mysterious, intriguing. Let’s flip the page over…
Instead of a blank, end the book filler page, a new story is beginning. Magically, the book gains pages, like a special fairy book which changes stories every time you open the book. But in this one, the stories aren’t erased, they just keep building.
So you eagerly begin to pursue this sequel, hoping for something wonderful after the first saga, but not really expecting anything great. You’re preconditioned by Hollywood to expect the second and third and fourth parts to be dull, flat, plot less regurgitations of the original story. This sequel is different though. It’s hardly a sequel, but it continues the last story which ended so neatly. It doesn’t elaborate, because it’s a new story of it’s own, but not independent of the first story.
It’s the same things, but at the same time, they’re new. They’re even more beautiful than they were before. The pages increase and continue, with their captivating lines of letters and pages of brilliant illustrations filled with princes and princesses and unicorns and lakes. It only gets better, and better, even in the darkest moments. Another chapter ends, and you find the next one is being slowly written.
The pages I letter. The pages you letter. The pages we letter. The pages lettered, lettered, lettered, constantly ending in a lovely little, “to be continued…”