1.
inexplicable things
that we sense
like wings fluttering
in the shadows

or chest rising with the effort
of feeling

crystal chandeliers
so fragile in the wind

shards of memory
piercing the stillness
and screams silenced
with agony

the lashes to our eyes
hurt and bleed

come again
and wound me

so close to breaking
I can see the cracks.
they widen
and begin to disintegrate

the holes patched
the pain "forgotten"
(as if things
like that can just go away)

I see light
cold and clear through dry eyelashes
whispers in the ink
and music that sings


2.
inexplicable things
darling and sweet
unmistakable
…and there

I see the light in your eyes
I hear your warm heart

I know your thoughts
…I feel you here

there it is
on the raven's wings:
happiness…
on the feathers of pain

I can see the black
far away

but always close
as a dream (nightmare)

I am not lost
I can see beauty
light is fun to watch…
dancing in the eddies

hands are warm
inviting and open
new for me and my still heart
who are you?

a new word is mine
never mine before
glass – fragile with color prisms:
happy.


3.
inexplicable things
so incomprehensible
and wrong
opposite and backwards

impossible to understand
I don't…

a paradox
brows furrowed

flashes and color
exploding
rampant, run wild
and be beautiful

yes or no?
stutter in silence

numb and trapped
words with no explanation

behind the scenes
a fairy (or elf?)
pulls the strings
marionette or voodoo doll?

highs and lows
intense beyond measure
tears and smiles
either or, or even together

what is this creature?
the piano plays on
rising notes
in question

Snowflakes begin to fall as I walk, appearing out of the inky sky as if they were summoned for the night’s lack of silent light and feathery fantasy.  I look up to watch them float to earth, making myself dizzy trying to find the cloud that gave them life.  A smile turns up the corners of my mouth as I imagine their shimmering dances through the night’s breezy winds and frost-covered gusts.  I imagine that they are dancing around me, alighting upon me for just a moment before fading to dust as the wind eddies around me.  It pulls me into the dance with them, and tosses me from partner to partner as I laugh and revel in the beauty of the winter scene.

But the cold tonight is also biting.  The few fingers that still peak out the ends of my coat sleeves feel as if icicles with needled teeth are gnawing on them with a voracious hunger.  As I walk through the freezing night, I watch the steam rise and writhe from every exhalation, imagining that, if the temperature dropped, the air would freeze in my lungs and turn me to stone from the inside out.  I shiver and hug myself tighter, clenching my muscles in a vain effort to hold in more heat, but I realize that the night is indeed getting colder, even as I hurry my feet along the path before me.  The snow abates, ceasing its merry dance, and ice crystals take their place.  They sting my cheek, rather than kiss it.

It’s as if I can see a thermometer in my head, watching as the red liquid slowly falls, my skin feeling the cold creeping closer and closer to my stuttering heart.  The trees around me glisten with ice, and I can hear it crunching and squeaking beneath my feet.  I look down and see that the grass has frozen so hard that it sounds like glass shattering with every step.  The sound has a shriek to it, and I imagine I can hear the grass crying out in agony with every tread of my heavy feet.

Now I wish I wore my heavy snow coat, for I feel as though every single molecule of water in the air has frozen solid.  Every breath hurts now, as the needles of ice stab at my lungs with their ever-present hunger.  I can feel them inside me, jabbing with such force that I stumble, gasping for oxygen, yet I cannot breathe normally for the pain that every wheeze causes.  My feet drag now, still slowly carrying me towards my goal, but their shuffling steps crunch through even more ice grass than before, and the sound begins to deafen me with its intensity.  The shrieks pierce my skull with shards of sound, and I shriek my own scream of agony.

I can no longer feel my legs, and the world spins in whirls of blue and black as the cold takes me captive.  I can’t feel it when the blades of grass stab me—my entire body is numb.  I can’t feel the hot blood flowing from my wounds—I can’t feel my life draining away.

But it’s ok.  I realize that I am no longer cold.  My core is warm… my heart is so warm.  No more does it stutter and stumble and stammer.  Now it waltzes with the warmth, happy to be free of its restrictive beat.   My fingers give a last tingle before they too succumb to the comforting heat.  It’s making me sleepy, the warmth…  It’s so comforting, so gentle, so beautiful.  It calls to me in a voice as soothing as a mother’s coo.

The smile that glows on my blued lips and shines in my darkened eyes is but a shadow of the joy that fills my heart at the approach of warm death.  Did you know?  He wears shining white… not tattered ink.  He carries a staff, not a sickle.  When He calls your name, He does so with a smile on his lips.  And His touch is a kiss, not a blow to those who answer his call with obedience.  So what wrong is there in following a being such as He?  Death… what a cruel name to bestow on one so beautiful.  Light fills me as I feel the weight of my body being lifted, and suddenly



I am free.

I wish emotions
could be tied to words
the way they're tied
to memories:
like the way strings
are tied to balloons
or the way wings
are tied to fairies’ backs –
with a bow and a knot
so the words
are never forgotten
and the emotions
that swayed the heart
and captured the soul
at the time of their birth
are never lost to the snatching,
jealous fist of time

you see, it’s quite a journey
being born as a writer’s words:
you open your eyes
to a world of vivid color
and (sometimes)
crippling emotion
feeling the sharpness of reality
hearing the noise
of a deaf world weeping
tasting the tang
of an infant’s breath of old air
and noticing the scent
of a cruel, unsympathetic universe

an infant word
is like an infant star:
when you grow
(and become loved
by your Creator)
you mature to shine
with your own beauty –
a brilliance
to which very few things
can ever compare

yet you are distant
and your light so very cold…

but I love you
and the stars
anyway

I remember that you and I loved each other once,
But oh, that fateful day…  I've cried forever since.
You wounded me with a stab mortally deep,
And yet, I will love you, even in eternal sleep.

The gaping wound you left has failed to heal;
It plagues me with a pain I'll never cease to feel.
But I remember the green days of warmth and sun,
And am reminded that my love will ne'er be done.

Even in the deepest, darkest shadows of the night,
I will remember you as a white shining knight.
With that memory of you, my hope will restore,
And a bright faith will renew my love forevermore.

But even though you're my white knight no more,
And have turned black by opening that fatal door,
Even when your clothes have been soaked in blood,
I can see your true face, now buried 'neath evil's flood.

So when the last crimson tears have been cried
And the many innocent souls you "freed" have sighed;
When 666 shades of red are all that color the dawn,
Even then will my undying love live on and on and on.

You don't know what I go through every single day,
Watching your infamy grow amongst the criminal array.
To them, you're a feared killer; to yourself, a last judge;
But to me you are a lost lover, one with a terrible grudge.

You see your actions as inflicting righteous punishment,
But I see the real evil, tearing you apart, rent by rent.
It cages your reason and slices holes in your sanity,
Forcing me to seek what I loved in you: your humanity.

As time slips away, unnoticed by my waiting heart,
Fear, despair and grief begin again to tear me apart,
Eating away at the faith and hope I kept alive for you.
So instead, I'll love who you were before you said, "Adieu."

I wish I could dream away this suffering and pain,
But without the torture, I know I wouldn't be sane;
I wish I could go to sleep and escape this terrible hurt,
But the pain tells me it WAS real, every blush and flirt.

Maybe someday you'll stop, recognize and repent;
Maybe you'll realize what you've become with torment;
Maybe you'll return to me, more in love than before.
But until then, know that I'll always love you at my very core.