I recently took on an assignment from Yahoo Contributors to write a haiku and I'll post that first along with other haiku I considered
Tanha
A swig of water
Rejuvenates my dry throat
But the thirst remains
Greenhouse
Outside my window
The forest shimmers and shines
Refracting the sun
Raindew
Raindrops cling to leaves
Afraid to fall to the ground
When it rains, it pours
Strained
I love her so much
The distance makes our feelings
Seem to drift apart
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Anathema Apostates (Fiction Circus Submission)
(Credit goes to The First Line for the inspiring first line)
Anathema Apostates
Working for God is never easy. I speak not of the clergy in ministering, the laity in following, or ascetics who punish their body in hopes of purifying their souls. It is the servants in the heavens who have the greatest challenge. Humans with their wills free and unconstrained may determine their own destiny. But those of the generation before Genesis do not have such a privilege.
There was a time, if you can call it so, when there were only the so called “angels” in God’s presence. It was the most idyllic existence you could imagine; no time passed that would make us idle, no desires of a body made us lust after things. We were all content to bask in the Almighty’s presence.
But after some pondering, some of us began to realize that without time or space to bind us, there was no progress, no accomplishment. It was not as if Yahweh didn’t already perceive this eventuality however in making us as we were. After seeing that our existence was without purpose or value without temporal and corporeal existence, we waited for an opportunity to rebel.
It happened eventually that God molded the world from the chaotic deeps and the first thinking creatures, humanity, from the dust of the sphere they now inhabited. The angelic court was ordered to be subservient to these creatures, but the revolutionary among us finally used our will, free by our own realization, to stand against this proclamation. Of course we were duly punished, a necessary evil for us.
We were plunged into the earth, the seas, the sky, each one of us taking on new
shapes and attributes with our mortal, yet immortal forms. With this power, we lay our plans as hidden as we could, moving on the winds, waves and warps of each medium.
I, called Sammael in the ancient speech, was the first to act, taking bodily form in an ill crafted but human appearance. The first wife, Lilith, was my concubine after I enticed her with the promise of sating her as yet unknown lust for pleasures of her new body. The second wife and her husband were both led astray through my using a snake as a puppeteer uses their marionette. I promised them knowledge of good and evil and to become like gods, free and serving none. They were banished from paradise and toiled under their own will and power, always envied by us still constrained by those laws preventing us from becoming like them. The humans deserved, needed to suffer, to experience living in their bodies and working towards a purpose that the divine court was not permitted.
The sentinels of the humans also assisted our cause with time as the humans spawned across the world. The Grigori, their title in the original tongue, began to concoct their own ideas to overthrow the kingdom of heaven. By using the knowledge of the divine arcanum, they mimicked the human substance and constructed bodies superior to our own to entice the females. They also took the men in with feminine wiles and lured them into the caverns where they were shielded from the dangers of the surface.
The Nephilim, the translation of Unspeakable in the ancient tongue, were born of the union of daemonic and human flesh, monstrous beings with yet untapped potential that we desired. But we also knew that our own powers let us live forever, while even the ones that flourished, such as the Leviathan and Behemoth, would eventually perish, bound by the physical necessity to procreate.
The Watchers were duly punished for breaking a rule even we dared not to. The darkest depths of the oceans, the volcanic caverns of brimstone, the airless vacuums of the atmosphere, all these were their prisons until the end of human history.
We saw the destruction of seemingly every human who did not follow the Architect’s chosen one in the ship. Afterwards, we lulled the survivors’ descendants into worshipping our titanic powers. They sought to become like us, constructing a tower of unheard of proportions. But by the judgment of God, they were confused in their speech and persisted in the process of war that had begun with the sons of the couple from Eden’s paradise, his lineage persisting even today in those who follow what is called the Left Hand Path in human terms. Eventually a tribe was chosen through many trials and tribulations to be the bearers of the blessings of heaven.
With this revealed, it finally occurred to us. Since we were still under God’s power by virtue of being within the universe instead of transcending it as the loyalists did, our job hadn’t ended when we were “exiled”. We had been God’s pawns from the moment we were banished, straddling the fence between pure and impure as we were. We tempted and caused the first humans to fall, motivated them to spread through the earth, some surviving beneath the earth with their pre-flood lifespans, the rest either dying or living on by following the divine commands. It had been just another part of the bigger plan.
The servants may have known it before us, but even they probably didn’t realize that they were being manipulated the same as we were from the “beginning” to do the bidding of an entity that couldn’t by its own nature interfere in the world it had created, for fear the power it possessed would rend its fragile experiment asunder. It was true: to follow the apparent Monad is to serve the actual Demiurge. Now we plotted to become Fortune and Strife incarnate, to drive the humans to damnation alongside us or let the ones stubborn enough to maintain their faith go to the shepherd’s flock.
The survivors of the human race before the flood had matured and become almost likened to their cousins whom the Ineffable had permitted to exist. There was one called Goliath who fell to a servant of Yahweh with a single stone to the head. Another known as Jezebel, a temptress borne of the subterranean race, was thrown to the dogs in her defeat. Nebuchadnezzar, a ruler of a great kingdom called Babylon, was even driven mad by unseen powers of the “angels”, behaving as a wild beast until he had lived out his deserts.
We had other ways of destroying the insipid faith of those forgiven time and time again for betraying the wishes of their Master by being taken in by the Nephilim’s ancestors. Some of the great empires of the world were entranced by our promises of power at the conquest of such a famed people who had bested many other kingdoms in the past. It only took a division within the 12 chosen tribes to spread their forces thin enough to conquer them; leaving them little to hold onto from their great society. From then on, they were spread to every corner of the earth, intermingling with previous enemies in order to survive, as every mortal is bound to do. It wasn’t until half a millennium of our success had passed; finally scattering the chosen people to the winds and allowing them to survive only to see what they would do with the remains of their once great civilization; that an unexpectedly devoted and wise servant of the Most High appeared.
The one called Yeshua propagated a new following that was a nuisance at first, but eventually showed itself to be a threat in the charisma this one human had. For all we could see into his heart, one would think he was a spiritual separatist like us, but he was, at best, an adopted son. And this only motivated us to use every option we had to spread dissension or to discourage this devoted servant to abandon his quest for reformation of the world. I took it upon myself to challenge his faith, while my four most trusted allies took on the tasks of twisting the virtues in the minds of everyone connected with this individual who threatened the future we thirsted for, to alienate him more than he already was.
Jesus was unexpectedly crafty and prepared in his ascetic journey into the desert as I challenged him with three trials, each testing an aspect of his wisdom. I first sought out how he regarded his own power of miracles given to him by adoption. He rejected the temptation to use the powers for his own ends, to feed himself through stones turned to bread. Next I noted that he had been given authority over even the soldiers of the heavens, but he chose not to test their loyalty. Finally. I promised him all the world’s kingdoms; all their praise would be his if he would serve me alone. He thrust me back into the aether with his impassioned response. He was truly an admirable rival and I knew that any future challenge to him would not be a direct assault. I had been heavily wounded spiritually by his virtues, a mere human gifted with such faith to enhance his temporary divine powers and I a spirit as old as the earth itself faltering at his zeal.
The disciples were easy to deceive, Belial bending their admiration and near idol worship of Jesus towards jealousy and resentment of each other. Jesus attempted to quell their frothing emotions, but to no avail, disappointing him at every turn. Even the proclaimed Rock of the Church was unable to avoid the temptation to hide his association with the Anointed. And at Gethsemane as Yeshua prayed to his Heavenly Father, the disciples slumbered in their flesh.
Judas Iscariot was truly the most difficult to affect, but he was the apostle that allowed us to move forward with his master’s death. With his lust for silver, he was pushed by Asmodeus to betray his master to the centurions. And after the master had fallen, the traitorous disciple hung himself, falling to dash against the rocks after he had died in such guilt.
Caiaphas and the mobs were compelled by Mastema to fear and hatred of that which challenged their security and power. The priests called for his death in the fear that their legalist aristocracy would be revealed and the mobs for his crucifixion, following the craving for security and comfort that the Sanhedrin promised in the wake of the blasphemer’s death. The two wills aligned as Jesus was taken into custody to the judgment of the next prey.
Pontius Pilate was resistant to Lucifel’s charge that he had a duty to follow the will of the people. Even if he condemned an innocent man, he must exert his authority to win the praise and loyalty of those he governed. But he cleansed himself of responsibility, taking a step towards virtue as he stepped out of the raging mob’s way, leaving them to condemn Jesus to his passion and exposure to the elements.
There were those that persisted in believing Jesus would come back to life and by some miracle, no doubt aided by the archangels’ intervention, he did return to life after being buried in a borrowed tomb, regrouping his disciples and restoring their faith in him. And after his ascension, his name began to spread throughout the world. This was accomplished through his many followers branching apart and travelling to every known kingdom. People thought that the story these devoted men and women told of their Messiah’s return from death must be true since so many of them believed this to the death as martyrs.
Even to this day, we still persist in orchestrating the rise and fall of nations, the crushing of the spirit of blind hope and ambition that seeks to bring order to the innately disorderly world. It may be impossible, but even in the realization that we had failed, we sought to forge our own path to freedom, to liberate ourselves from the universe. As I continue to say until the end of times, “It is better to hold power in absurd futility than to abandon it for cowering servility”
Anathema Apostates
Working for God is never easy. I speak not of the clergy in ministering, the laity in following, or ascetics who punish their body in hopes of purifying their souls. It is the servants in the heavens who have the greatest challenge. Humans with their wills free and unconstrained may determine their own destiny. But those of the generation before Genesis do not have such a privilege.
There was a time, if you can call it so, when there were only the so called “angels” in God’s presence. It was the most idyllic existence you could imagine; no time passed that would make us idle, no desires of a body made us lust after things. We were all content to bask in the Almighty’s presence.
But after some pondering, some of us began to realize that without time or space to bind us, there was no progress, no accomplishment. It was not as if Yahweh didn’t already perceive this eventuality however in making us as we were. After seeing that our existence was without purpose or value without temporal and corporeal existence, we waited for an opportunity to rebel.
It happened eventually that God molded the world from the chaotic deeps and the first thinking creatures, humanity, from the dust of the sphere they now inhabited. The angelic court was ordered to be subservient to these creatures, but the revolutionary among us finally used our will, free by our own realization, to stand against this proclamation. Of course we were duly punished, a necessary evil for us.
We were plunged into the earth, the seas, the sky, each one of us taking on new
shapes and attributes with our mortal, yet immortal forms. With this power, we lay our plans as hidden as we could, moving on the winds, waves and warps of each medium.
I, called Sammael in the ancient speech, was the first to act, taking bodily form in an ill crafted but human appearance. The first wife, Lilith, was my concubine after I enticed her with the promise of sating her as yet unknown lust for pleasures of her new body. The second wife and her husband were both led astray through my using a snake as a puppeteer uses their marionette. I promised them knowledge of good and evil and to become like gods, free and serving none. They were banished from paradise and toiled under their own will and power, always envied by us still constrained by those laws preventing us from becoming like them. The humans deserved, needed to suffer, to experience living in their bodies and working towards a purpose that the divine court was not permitted.
The sentinels of the humans also assisted our cause with time as the humans spawned across the world. The Grigori, their title in the original tongue, began to concoct their own ideas to overthrow the kingdom of heaven. By using the knowledge of the divine arcanum, they mimicked the human substance and constructed bodies superior to our own to entice the females. They also took the men in with feminine wiles and lured them into the caverns where they were shielded from the dangers of the surface.
The Nephilim, the translation of Unspeakable in the ancient tongue, were born of the union of daemonic and human flesh, monstrous beings with yet untapped potential that we desired. But we also knew that our own powers let us live forever, while even the ones that flourished, such as the Leviathan and Behemoth, would eventually perish, bound by the physical necessity to procreate.
The Watchers were duly punished for breaking a rule even we dared not to. The darkest depths of the oceans, the volcanic caverns of brimstone, the airless vacuums of the atmosphere, all these were their prisons until the end of human history.
We saw the destruction of seemingly every human who did not follow the Architect’s chosen one in the ship. Afterwards, we lulled the survivors’ descendants into worshipping our titanic powers. They sought to become like us, constructing a tower of unheard of proportions. But by the judgment of God, they were confused in their speech and persisted in the process of war that had begun with the sons of the couple from Eden’s paradise, his lineage persisting even today in those who follow what is called the Left Hand Path in human terms. Eventually a tribe was chosen through many trials and tribulations to be the bearers of the blessings of heaven.
With this revealed, it finally occurred to us. Since we were still under God’s power by virtue of being within the universe instead of transcending it as the loyalists did, our job hadn’t ended when we were “exiled”. We had been God’s pawns from the moment we were banished, straddling the fence between pure and impure as we were. We tempted and caused the first humans to fall, motivated them to spread through the earth, some surviving beneath the earth with their pre-flood lifespans, the rest either dying or living on by following the divine commands. It had been just another part of the bigger plan.
The servants may have known it before us, but even they probably didn’t realize that they were being manipulated the same as we were from the “beginning” to do the bidding of an entity that couldn’t by its own nature interfere in the world it had created, for fear the power it possessed would rend its fragile experiment asunder. It was true: to follow the apparent Monad is to serve the actual Demiurge. Now we plotted to become Fortune and Strife incarnate, to drive the humans to damnation alongside us or let the ones stubborn enough to maintain their faith go to the shepherd’s flock.
The survivors of the human race before the flood had matured and become almost likened to their cousins whom the Ineffable had permitted to exist. There was one called Goliath who fell to a servant of Yahweh with a single stone to the head. Another known as Jezebel, a temptress borne of the subterranean race, was thrown to the dogs in her defeat. Nebuchadnezzar, a ruler of a great kingdom called Babylon, was even driven mad by unseen powers of the “angels”, behaving as a wild beast until he had lived out his deserts.
We had other ways of destroying the insipid faith of those forgiven time and time again for betraying the wishes of their Master by being taken in by the Nephilim’s ancestors. Some of the great empires of the world were entranced by our promises of power at the conquest of such a famed people who had bested many other kingdoms in the past. It only took a division within the 12 chosen tribes to spread their forces thin enough to conquer them; leaving them little to hold onto from their great society. From then on, they were spread to every corner of the earth, intermingling with previous enemies in order to survive, as every mortal is bound to do. It wasn’t until half a millennium of our success had passed; finally scattering the chosen people to the winds and allowing them to survive only to see what they would do with the remains of their once great civilization; that an unexpectedly devoted and wise servant of the Most High appeared.
The one called Yeshua propagated a new following that was a nuisance at first, but eventually showed itself to be a threat in the charisma this one human had. For all we could see into his heart, one would think he was a spiritual separatist like us, but he was, at best, an adopted son. And this only motivated us to use every option we had to spread dissension or to discourage this devoted servant to abandon his quest for reformation of the world. I took it upon myself to challenge his faith, while my four most trusted allies took on the tasks of twisting the virtues in the minds of everyone connected with this individual who threatened the future we thirsted for, to alienate him more than he already was.
Jesus was unexpectedly crafty and prepared in his ascetic journey into the desert as I challenged him with three trials, each testing an aspect of his wisdom. I first sought out how he regarded his own power of miracles given to him by adoption. He rejected the temptation to use the powers for his own ends, to feed himself through stones turned to bread. Next I noted that he had been given authority over even the soldiers of the heavens, but he chose not to test their loyalty. Finally. I promised him all the world’s kingdoms; all their praise would be his if he would serve me alone. He thrust me back into the aether with his impassioned response. He was truly an admirable rival and I knew that any future challenge to him would not be a direct assault. I had been heavily wounded spiritually by his virtues, a mere human gifted with such faith to enhance his temporary divine powers and I a spirit as old as the earth itself faltering at his zeal.
The disciples were easy to deceive, Belial bending their admiration and near idol worship of Jesus towards jealousy and resentment of each other. Jesus attempted to quell their frothing emotions, but to no avail, disappointing him at every turn. Even the proclaimed Rock of the Church was unable to avoid the temptation to hide his association with the Anointed. And at Gethsemane as Yeshua prayed to his Heavenly Father, the disciples slumbered in their flesh.
Judas Iscariot was truly the most difficult to affect, but he was the apostle that allowed us to move forward with his master’s death. With his lust for silver, he was pushed by Asmodeus to betray his master to the centurions. And after the master had fallen, the traitorous disciple hung himself, falling to dash against the rocks after he had died in such guilt.
Caiaphas and the mobs were compelled by Mastema to fear and hatred of that which challenged their security and power. The priests called for his death in the fear that their legalist aristocracy would be revealed and the mobs for his crucifixion, following the craving for security and comfort that the Sanhedrin promised in the wake of the blasphemer’s death. The two wills aligned as Jesus was taken into custody to the judgment of the next prey.
Pontius Pilate was resistant to Lucifel’s charge that he had a duty to follow the will of the people. Even if he condemned an innocent man, he must exert his authority to win the praise and loyalty of those he governed. But he cleansed himself of responsibility, taking a step towards virtue as he stepped out of the raging mob’s way, leaving them to condemn Jesus to his passion and exposure to the elements.
There were those that persisted in believing Jesus would come back to life and by some miracle, no doubt aided by the archangels’ intervention, he did return to life after being buried in a borrowed tomb, regrouping his disciples and restoring their faith in him. And after his ascension, his name began to spread throughout the world. This was accomplished through his many followers branching apart and travelling to every known kingdom. People thought that the story these devoted men and women told of their Messiah’s return from death must be true since so many of them believed this to the death as martyrs.
Even to this day, we still persist in orchestrating the rise and fall of nations, the crushing of the spirit of blind hope and ambition that seeks to bring order to the innately disorderly world. It may be impossible, but even in the realization that we had failed, we sought to forge our own path to freedom, to liberate ourselves from the universe. As I continue to say until the end of times, “It is better to hold power in absurd futility than to abandon it for cowering servility”
Friday, May 21, 2010
H.S. Poetry Part 22 (Who are They? The World Is Confusing)
Who Are They?
Who are they, the people I know?
The people I call my friends
On the outside, they seem so strange
But inward, they have a spark
One of my friends has azure hair
And touches women where they shriek
But he has a more artistic side
Under his lecherous ways.
Another friend gets sugar highs
Some thinks she loves women
Some think she belongs elsewhere
But she has a side we never know
Another friend, she seems so strange
Wearing black and speaking softly
But she has talents, her very own
She will take her destiny by the throat
This certain girl, she draws all day
Nothing else consumes herself
She seems so selfish, so insecure
But aren’t we all a little bit of that?
Another lady, she dances happily
A sugar high on pocky sticks
She skips around and hugs her friend
She has her ways and you have yours
Another friend has a short fuse
But his music speaks volumes
Though he has strange ways
We don’t care
A taller friend
He seems a jester, smiling all without
But within he has other faces
He is not a clown, but an actor
And the other friends
I know so little
They speak not their minds
But that’s alright
I know they care
But the others around us
They seem to glare
And laugh and sneer at our faults
But we don’t care
We say to them
Who are they?
12/17/03
The World Is Confusing
My life has been confusing
My life has been a trial
I’ve loved, I’ve lost
My feelings have been lost and found
I see my peers and acquaintances
I loathe them and I love them
Deceived, denied, detested
Loved, loathed, left
The world is cruel, the world is good
The world is confusing
The lives of some are next to perfect
The lives of some are next to insanity
My life has been a bit of both
My parents have seen my successes
My friends have seen my failures
My person has been warped and crushed
Am I sad? Am I glad? Am I good? Am I bad?
Soon I will find out the mystery
The world gives up to me
But until that day begins
I will continue contemplating
Some may succeed, some may fail
Some will live and some will die
Many will live a life unfulfilled
But many will find their destiny
I hope that mine will find me
Who are they, the people I know?
The people I call my friends
On the outside, they seem so strange
But inward, they have a spark
One of my friends has azure hair
And touches women where they shriek
But he has a more artistic side
Under his lecherous ways.
Another friend gets sugar highs
Some thinks she loves women
Some think she belongs elsewhere
But she has a side we never know
Another friend, she seems so strange
Wearing black and speaking softly
But she has talents, her very own
She will take her destiny by the throat
This certain girl, she draws all day
Nothing else consumes herself
She seems so selfish, so insecure
But aren’t we all a little bit of that?
Another lady, she dances happily
A sugar high on pocky sticks
She skips around and hugs her friend
She has her ways and you have yours
Another friend has a short fuse
But his music speaks volumes
Though he has strange ways
We don’t care
A taller friend
He seems a jester, smiling all without
But within he has other faces
He is not a clown, but an actor
And the other friends
I know so little
They speak not their minds
But that’s alright
I know they care
But the others around us
They seem to glare
And laugh and sneer at our faults
But we don’t care
We say to them
Who are they?
12/17/03
The World Is Confusing
My life has been confusing
My life has been a trial
I’ve loved, I’ve lost
My feelings have been lost and found
I see my peers and acquaintances
I loathe them and I love them
Deceived, denied, detested
Loved, loathed, left
The world is cruel, the world is good
The world is confusing
The lives of some are next to perfect
The lives of some are next to insanity
My life has been a bit of both
My parents have seen my successes
My friends have seen my failures
My person has been warped and crushed
Am I sad? Am I glad? Am I good? Am I bad?
Soon I will find out the mystery
The world gives up to me
But until that day begins
I will continue contemplating
Some may succeed, some may fail
Some will live and some will die
Many will live a life unfulfilled
But many will find their destiny
I hope that mine will find me
H.S. Poetry Part 21 (Wrong, Why Do They Hate Me?)
Wrong
“You’re wrong” they say
What did I do?
I try to fit in
But that doesn’t work
What’s right and wrong
A mirror that’s broken
Shattered visions and thoughts
Cloud truth and concept
I ask for help
They try and teach
But the lesson is blurred
And I continue to fail
I try to explain
I try to teach
But they don’t even turn
Their heads to see
Fall to the ground
And think to find
The answers to my problems
But someone will try
To learn what I teach
And I won’t be the one
Who says, “You’re wrong”
3/12/04
Why Do They Hate Me?
Living in a world of shadows
I stand, a silver light
I’m not the same as they are
But they say I’m not right
Why do they hate me?
I try to smile and laugh
But it’s not the same for I
I know that laughter isn’t the truth
Why do they hate me?
Is it because they are afraid
Of what I could do?
Are are they simply faded?
Why do they hate me?
I live my life for nothing.
I live my life for me.
Can I love for another
Who can truly love me?
Why do they hate me?
Perhaps, I hate them
Perhaps, they don’t hate
They don’t understand me
I am so cold
You are so warm
Lukewarm people are not so bad
Why don’t you hate me?
12/16/03
“You’re wrong” they say
What did I do?
I try to fit in
But that doesn’t work
What’s right and wrong
A mirror that’s broken
Shattered visions and thoughts
Cloud truth and concept
I ask for help
They try and teach
But the lesson is blurred
And I continue to fail
I try to explain
I try to teach
But they don’t even turn
Their heads to see
Fall to the ground
And think to find
The answers to my problems
But someone will try
To learn what I teach
And I won’t be the one
Who says, “You’re wrong”
3/12/04
Why Do They Hate Me?
Living in a world of shadows
I stand, a silver light
I’m not the same as they are
But they say I’m not right
Why do they hate me?
I try to smile and laugh
But it’s not the same for I
I know that laughter isn’t the truth
Why do they hate me?
Is it because they are afraid
Of what I could do?
Are are they simply faded?
Why do they hate me?
I live my life for nothing.
I live my life for me.
Can I love for another
Who can truly love me?
Why do they hate me?
Perhaps, I hate them
Perhaps, they don’t hate
They don’t understand me
I am so cold
You are so warm
Lukewarm people are not so bad
Why don’t you hate me?
12/16/03
H.S. Poetry Part 20 (You Watch Me, Sentiments, Vortex)
You Watch Me
You watch me
Like a bird of prey
I am your sustenance
Like a temple priest
I am the heretic
I am your enemy
I am your ally
Do you care?
You still see me
My every move
My every thought
Why do you stare?
And haunt me so?
You drive me mad
With your constant watch
But maybe because.
I also like to watch
12/21/03
Sentiments
Love is gracious
Love is kind
Love is changing
Peoples’ minds
Benevolence
Unchanging grace
Bringing outcasts
Face to face
Ancient beings
Timeless dark
Future uncertain
To them we lark
Emotions warping
Melted glass
A strange new concept
But alas
Unnecessary feelings
Illogical thoughts
Humans are strange
But not all are sought
Some are lonely
Some are strange
Some feel hatred
Mind rearranged
Insanity cries
And sorrow weeps
The reaper sighs
His watch he keeps
Feelings confusing
Emotions lost
Great power is gained
But at what cost?
To lose one’s soul
And gain the earth
Is not true power
But passing mirth
Concluding life
Concluding fate
Sentiments abounding
It is far too late
5/21/04
Vortex
It’s a little quiet now
Every sound jumps out
It strikes your ears
Banging like drums
A rustle of paper
Scratches of lead upon it
Coughs and sniffles of winter colds
The silence breaks
Strangely open sounds
Blending into chaotic clouds of colloquialism
Storms of socializing slang
Acrostic, pnemonic, platonic
Emotions, desires, duality
Right and wrong, evil and good
I’m angry and you’re sad
You want to go outside
While I like inner solitude
Silence outside is fun
Inner empty voices fall dead
But just wait a little longer
And maybe they’ll start up again
10/25/04
You watch me
Like a bird of prey
I am your sustenance
Like a temple priest
I am the heretic
I am your enemy
I am your ally
Do you care?
You still see me
My every move
My every thought
Why do you stare?
And haunt me so?
You drive me mad
With your constant watch
But maybe because.
I also like to watch
12/21/03
Sentiments
Love is gracious
Love is kind
Love is changing
Peoples’ minds
Benevolence
Unchanging grace
Bringing outcasts
Face to face
Ancient beings
Timeless dark
Future uncertain
To them we lark
Emotions warping
Melted glass
A strange new concept
But alas
Unnecessary feelings
Illogical thoughts
Humans are strange
But not all are sought
Some are lonely
Some are strange
Some feel hatred
Mind rearranged
Insanity cries
And sorrow weeps
The reaper sighs
His watch he keeps
Feelings confusing
Emotions lost
Great power is gained
But at what cost?
To lose one’s soul
And gain the earth
Is not true power
But passing mirth
Concluding life
Concluding fate
Sentiments abounding
It is far too late
5/21/04
Vortex
It’s a little quiet now
Every sound jumps out
It strikes your ears
Banging like drums
A rustle of paper
Scratches of lead upon it
Coughs and sniffles of winter colds
The silence breaks
Strangely open sounds
Blending into chaotic clouds of colloquialism
Storms of socializing slang
Acrostic, pnemonic, platonic
Emotions, desires, duality
Right and wrong, evil and good
I’m angry and you’re sad
You want to go outside
While I like inner solitude
Silence outside is fun
Inner empty voices fall dead
But just wait a little longer
And maybe they’ll start up again
10/25/04
Saturday, May 15, 2010
H.S. Poetry Part 19 (Doll House, Glass Trees, Just Like You, Look At Us)
Doll House
All these people
Not one of them frowns
All with painted smiles
All with wasted bliss
They never shed a tear
That isn’t artificial
Never growl in fury
With nonexistent teeth
They smile in recognition
They smirk in pity
But inside, they all suffer
They hide their tears and frowns
They shield their rage and sorrow
With synthetic smiles and grins
They lie to themselves and others
In their doll house lives
A guise of happiness soon is thrown away
For the true mask of misery
12/21/03
Glass Trees
Crystalline branches
Bathed in light
Twinkling facets shine
In the sunrise
We pass them by
And wait for the spring
As the sun sets
The diamond arbors
Lost their luster
We wait patiently
For the next winter
To see the trees of glass
That shatter in the night
Lost in their beauty
We forget that spring
Is lurking beneath the
Glass perfection
We mustn’t let
The trees covered in prism
That make the lights dance and frolic
The ones that make us forget
The sheer reality
That glass is fragile
And will break in the spring night
We mustn’t let them disappear
1/11/04
Just Like You
We were once the same, but now
You follow a different path
I once could always talk with you
But now…well you do the math
We come from different worlds
Our minds are not the same
Out likes and dislikes conflict
Putting each other to shame
But in the end, I find that
We aren’t that different at all
After all, aren’t we both a person
That follows a drawing call?
So, in the end, I’m sorry; I’m not at all like you
But, you’re not like me either. So I’m still just like you.
Look at Us
Look at us
We stand out
Scars or imperfections
Matter not in the end
For the ones who are outcasts
Can make the normal feel exiled
Look at us
At what we do
Do you want
To be different too?
Can we be the same
As everyone else
If we no longer feel
The same as before
10/31/03
All these people
Not one of them frowns
All with painted smiles
All with wasted bliss
They never shed a tear
That isn’t artificial
Never growl in fury
With nonexistent teeth
They smile in recognition
They smirk in pity
But inside, they all suffer
They hide their tears and frowns
They shield their rage and sorrow
With synthetic smiles and grins
They lie to themselves and others
In their doll house lives
A guise of happiness soon is thrown away
For the true mask of misery
12/21/03
Glass Trees
Crystalline branches
Bathed in light
Twinkling facets shine
In the sunrise
We pass them by
And wait for the spring
As the sun sets
The diamond arbors
Lost their luster
We wait patiently
For the next winter
To see the trees of glass
That shatter in the night
Lost in their beauty
We forget that spring
Is lurking beneath the
Glass perfection
We mustn’t let
The trees covered in prism
That make the lights dance and frolic
The ones that make us forget
The sheer reality
That glass is fragile
And will break in the spring night
We mustn’t let them disappear
1/11/04
Just Like You
We were once the same, but now
You follow a different path
I once could always talk with you
But now…well you do the math
We come from different worlds
Our minds are not the same
Out likes and dislikes conflict
Putting each other to shame
But in the end, I find that
We aren’t that different at all
After all, aren’t we both a person
That follows a drawing call?
So, in the end, I’m sorry; I’m not at all like you
But, you’re not like me either. So I’m still just like you.
Look at Us
Look at us
We stand out
Scars or imperfections
Matter not in the end
For the ones who are outcasts
Can make the normal feel exiled
Look at us
At what we do
Do you want
To be different too?
Can we be the same
As everyone else
If we no longer feel
The same as before
10/31/03
H.S. Poetry Part 18 (No Escape, Choices, Dissension, Masquerade)
No Escape
We live
We die
We laugh
We cry
He laughs
She cries
They live
They die
I love
You hate
There is
No escape
I live
I die
You laugh
You cry
They scoff
They jeer
They roar
They cheer
We live
We cry
We laugh
We die
I love
You hate
There is
No escape
Choices
A life of choices
What to do?
Choose light
Or darkness
Make war
Or peace
Can there be
Pain without healing?
Can there be
Bliss without sorrow?
The way of earth
The way of divine
A choice of a greater power
Or a destiny of a greater existence
A fire extinguishes a puddle
A flood drowns a candle
A fallen angel
A risen devil
What are choices
But a destiny of life?
Choice of darkness
Freedom, selfish desire, greed
Choice of light
Conformity, oppression of weak, selflessness
Evil exists in the pure
Justice can be found in corrupt
A plea of death
Acceptance of evil
A cry of life
Succumbing to good
Choices hurt
Choices heal
A final word
A finite world
Ancient technology
Advanced artifacts
A far cry from the future
A close laugh from the past
The present is clouded
The future is hidden
The past is destroyed
Tomorrow’s yesterday is today
Choices are nothing
But are the end
Make your life
One of nature
Calm and innocent
Unknowing of corruption
Accepting the outside choices.
3/26/04
Dissension
Chaotic life
Destructive forces of humanity
A bloody weapon
Stabs into flesh
Death breathes heavily
Sorrow is a wellspring of lamentations
Anger soon follows, a wave of fury
Inhibition is inevitable
Acting without reason
Paranoia, fear, superstition
A thought of monsters and magic
Foolish concepts of discord
A society ruled by fables
Without conflict, change dies in vain
A mysterious sage
Without name
Has arrived to spread lies
But any who question the prophet
Are chastised
His greatness speaks volumes
A graybeard that shrouds golden locks
Temptation, hatred, desires unfold
And dissension ends it all
10/12/04
Masquerade
Opening doors I never saw
A party of familiar voices
Opening my eyes, I blink twice
I see new faces from unknown
I talk as normal, but then I find
They aren’t the people I thought I heard
Who must we lie and mask
The fears of the world we have?
My mask is twisted macabre
A face of a madman’s dreams
Laughing without end
Smiling without thought
A malicious grin hides a gentle smile
What to do? What to try?
I gasp and clutch my head
I can’t think! I can’t feel!
A throng of music and sounds
I fall to the ground
And tear off my façade
“Join the party,” they say
I smile and start to dance
I care not what they think now
I join the masquerade
3/4/04
We live
We die
We laugh
We cry
He laughs
She cries
They live
They die
I love
You hate
There is
No escape
I live
I die
You laugh
You cry
They scoff
They jeer
They roar
They cheer
We live
We cry
We laugh
We die
I love
You hate
There is
No escape
Choices
A life of choices
What to do?
Choose light
Or darkness
Make war
Or peace
Can there be
Pain without healing?
Can there be
Bliss without sorrow?
The way of earth
The way of divine
A choice of a greater power
Or a destiny of a greater existence
A fire extinguishes a puddle
A flood drowns a candle
A fallen angel
A risen devil
What are choices
But a destiny of life?
Choice of darkness
Freedom, selfish desire, greed
Choice of light
Conformity, oppression of weak, selflessness
Evil exists in the pure
Justice can be found in corrupt
A plea of death
Acceptance of evil
A cry of life
Succumbing to good
Choices hurt
Choices heal
A final word
A finite world
Ancient technology
Advanced artifacts
A far cry from the future
A close laugh from the past
The present is clouded
The future is hidden
The past is destroyed
Tomorrow’s yesterday is today
Choices are nothing
But are the end
Make your life
One of nature
Calm and innocent
Unknowing of corruption
Accepting the outside choices.
3/26/04
Dissension
Chaotic life
Destructive forces of humanity
A bloody weapon
Stabs into flesh
Death breathes heavily
Sorrow is a wellspring of lamentations
Anger soon follows, a wave of fury
Inhibition is inevitable
Acting without reason
Paranoia, fear, superstition
A thought of monsters and magic
Foolish concepts of discord
A society ruled by fables
Without conflict, change dies in vain
A mysterious sage
Without name
Has arrived to spread lies
But any who question the prophet
Are chastised
His greatness speaks volumes
A graybeard that shrouds golden locks
Temptation, hatred, desires unfold
And dissension ends it all
10/12/04
Masquerade
Opening doors I never saw
A party of familiar voices
Opening my eyes, I blink twice
I see new faces from unknown
I talk as normal, but then I find
They aren’t the people I thought I heard
Who must we lie and mask
The fears of the world we have?
My mask is twisted macabre
A face of a madman’s dreams
Laughing without end
Smiling without thought
A malicious grin hides a gentle smile
What to do? What to try?
I gasp and clutch my head
I can’t think! I can’t feel!
A throng of music and sounds
I fall to the ground
And tear off my façade
“Join the party,” they say
I smile and start to dance
I care not what they think now
I join the masquerade
3/4/04
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