|What can I say...he is an absolute darling! Summer 2009|
Frog spawn in the pond
Covered by water lilies
Peaceful and serene
Croak of frogs disturbes the peace
Delightful small creatures' jump!
Am I a Prince?
AMPHIBIANS by *La-Tete-Ailleurs*
*Spock*Many moons ago
*Marriage and Henry*Marry Henry, no!
*Harbour of Dreams*
*Book of Maps*Atlas carried world, it's heavy
*The Forgotten Tomb*
*Love's Tribute*Love has thorns, not unlike rose.
*So Sorry*Apology accepted. Flowers worked their magic.
*Papyrus Art 2*Hunting on the Nile
*Papyrus Art 1*
The White Haunting!The white haunting drifted slowly down the staircase that in truth was no longer there. Her presence was felt and its aura left an invisible trail. Wherever she drifted air became frigid, brittle and deadly cold. Hoar frost momentarily glazed her passage as down into the crypt she decended.
*Joker Meets Dali*
*Floral Meanings*Pause to consider**********
32:3I poked holes into my palms
when it came time to pray.
Hoping that maybe some of the holy liquid
into the cathedral floors
and into bones holding up sinners &
saints. I thought
God would understand my sentiment of knowing
departed people and the segments
that drove them mad.
The Sundays that stood churchless
in the yard, outside by dad's
always told me stories of the whale
that swallowed the man that swallowed
his pride that ate his faith
and ended up a new whale with hands
as big as baskets.
To this day he hands out bread
in his fresh-baked book of poems
and waits for me to poke more
tiny holes into my tiny hands.
Half-praying a please.
Growing (T)oldSpare me the pine.
the world disoriented
(under the lamp-light)
the world deconstructed
(over stomachs bombed).
Spare me the child.
dead in the dirt
(fertile Chernobyl storms)
dead in the dorm
(the answers curdle).
arms on the womb.
arms on the wound.
Spare me mine.
mine the sale item.
mine the 13th shelved soul.
Spare me the hoax.
I've already feasted
on their bones.
Spare me the fault.
of those eyes iodized.
those jawlines table salt.
Where Lover's Dream DarklyFor it is not a fable; — that which bleeds..
And her soul may whisper obsidian,
— But I am the sea of Darkness she craves
O’ long I hath bathed in these ravenous winds,
Watching shadows weep across river’s dreary
Upon nightscapes that plunder our souls —
A bouquet of crimson shall enchant thy lips;
Where slowly we fade into requiem
Drink me naked in the abyss of hungry wolves
Among demons and insanity, I thrust and fall
Ravaged, eons of lust spill from mine eyes,
And behold the Forests sing of murder!
In a sombre kiss, we shall undress the skies
Time will yield to the treasures of melancholy
I covet thee, unto this blood-filled Moon
O’ thou art beautiful decay upon my skin,
A ghostly visage dripping wanton & darkly ..
We are Lover’s haunting deaths lullaby;
Assassins brooding in a bewailing fairy-tale
She is mystic poison; & elixir immortale
Seek you me, in the mystique of necromancy
For I am the dream of Serpents fea
TransitionI used to sleep
In your shirt every night;
Now, I only pull it out
On laundry day.
I feel strange neglecting it,
But just as strange wearing it.
You said it was too hard
To reach across the miles,
But I never really felt the distance
Until I was forced
To walk down another path.
From time to time, I look over my shoulder--
Sometimes with longing,
Sometimes with resentment--
But though it's easier said than done,
I try never to regret,
Because anything which brings us joy
Is worth experiencing.
Locks of LoveI haven't cut my hair
Since just before
I walked across the stage
Sixteen months ago.
I grew it out
Because, last summer, you loved
To run your fingers
Through its coppery threads.
That always made me feel
When you left for school again in August,
I couldn't bring myself
To get a haircut.
What if you came back,
And this time, my heart was ready for you?
Mid-semester, you told me that,
While you and your friends
Built your school's bonfire,
It was customary
That no one cut his hair
Or even shaved
Until the structure was finished.
I don't think I told you
That I let mine continue to grow
In your honor, except
I didn't cut it on Burn Day.
When we kissed on Christmas Eve,
You weaved your fingers
Through my silken locks
And made me feel beautiful once more.
I still didn't cut my hair,
Even after you left in March,
Save for the split ends
I trimmed in May,
Hoping to eradicate negative energy
But not wanting to let go of you.
Now it's September.
CourageSunlight peers cautiously over thunder-dark clouds,
reminding me that although it is important to look to
the horizon for inspiration -
- even the sun itself sometimes needs
a little courage.
LongingI unfurl behind
hearing your comatose heartbeat
slow my own.
We are broken
by decisions and movement.
We are bleeding out
from between the slots
of my ribs, and you
are sobbing pulsebeats
through sleeping veins.
Will we crumble? Will we
disintegrate into fantasies
and childhood daisy chains?
I am longing for the days
of holding hands against
the concrete, making basement angels
out of glowing lights and
pool cue fingers, wasting
countless sunsets getting tangled
in numbers and arms and rehearsals
I am longing for the days
of leaping because we can,
and never looking back.
My nerves are clinging to yours
on top of tired skin. You are
slipping from their grasp,
but at least I can
always find you
by the sounds of your dreams
dripping through the weeds.
INFINITELY LILITHI am not dead for I cannot die,
once Man thought I could be easily misused,
exiling me to an epilogue no longer remembered
as he blotted out my blush from staining
the Earth's chrysalis rind, if only he knew
that beneath my touch knowledge took root
and pumpkins were hollowed out into shapes
-seedless and skinless-as infinite as the mind.
I am not dead, I cannot die
for I am the memory of primevel bliss,
though blackened my skeleton still exists,
licking the Silence clean so my name can
bite more soundly, a thousand serpents hiss
from my nebula center, welcoming to me
my children who bring the blood that feeds
my dessicated garden, ravenously growing,
I cannot regret for I live too purely to repent
the pushing and prodding of my blossoms to be
known by the timeless exuberance of eons past,
in the Moonlight I move and speak of dark things
not really dead and the light not really blessed
without me being known first, infinitely I say
I am not dead for I cannot die.
I am Lilith.
A TREMBLE OF SANGUINE SHADOW...Deep inside the world I seek in my head, the Night
sheathes me with the voices only I know are there,
voices I can never hide from, they ghost through me,
deep and desirous in the Night's labyrinthine soul
where we reside, but I am unafraid of them and the
Dark that brushes her gleaming black wings against
my spirit-poreously pure so the Passion may leak out,
I have been alone for too long to be afraid of the
Dark that has always been there-my one constant friend-
he entombs my Light in his Darkness before the world
can murder me, and my soul weeps its last drop of
pale blood, soundlessly drying up from this existence.
I am the Discovery of the Night, I feel myself grow
when she beckons me to her, my life is just a tremble
of sanguine shadow and dreamy decay compared to her
timeless consumption, but it is Persephone who presses
her cup to my lips, I drink its contents lustfully heavy,
I taste her immortality scenting my life with something
more pure than Regret and Remorse-those evil t
Tedium or Te DeumThe days pass by so quickly now,
Not much time to do anything.
The dustbin men come and go,
Brown bin this week, green one next,
The window cleaner's here again,
I'm sure he came only last week.
Those kids should be back in school now.
Hey up! That postman's late today.
Is this how life is measured now?
As Eliza Doolittle might have said:
'What me? Not bloody likely!'
Not if I've anything to do with it.
Pull this one.Alas! The misuse of modern technology.
'Hi! Our records indicate that you qualify
For a new boiler under a Government scheme'
Beware of geeks bearing gifts.
Werewolves, vampires, and ghostsWerewolves, vampires, and ghosts, oh my!
And here I was sure they were friends.
Bela, one night, for my neck did try,
till his cape got caught on the fence!
Werewolves, vampires, and ghosts, good gawd!
Am I dreaming or is it all true?
When Lon grew a beard I found it quite odd,
was it real or he used super glue?
Werewolves, vampires, and ghosts, good lord!
Am I in Transylvania or what?
Casper came callin' one night, I was bored,
and then green-slimed me right 'cross the gut!
Werewolves, vampires, and ghosts, oh please!
I say enough is enough is enough!
I wish to gawd these wackos would cease,
before I grow fangs, turn into a wolf!
Werewolves, vampires, and ghosts, all gone!
In reality, they never were there.
But thank you for coming along on the con,
truth took to flight on a wing and a prayer!
Why Birds Still Sing
Flying high into the sky on a windswept summer day,
she feels the freedom flight endows; the choice to hunt or play.
The radiant sun calls out to her - 'tis time to tend your nest;
'tis time to nurse the little ones, then after take your rest.
Man's assault upon her realm keeps tugging at her heart,
if only they with shuttered eyes could see they'd do their part.
The sky was made for all to share, the air once pure and sweet;
would that men might feel the pulse of lamentation's beat.
Still she sings a hopeful song of a future happy day,
a song replete with words of praise for all His wondrous ways.
The time will come when Eden's dreamy paradise is here;
that blessed day when earth's reborn and nothing's left to fear.
A MAGICAL WALKI heard music, and hence I did follow
As a light rain fell from the sky above
The sound of my pitter patter feet were hollow
Wet now I had to remove my gloves.
Onward I trudged through the mud and the muck
The music I heard was getting louder now
The pathways I followed were sheer out of luck
Moisture thickening as I wiped my brow.
I found myself humming this melodic tune
Anxious that I was not lost on my course
All about me were fireflies strewn
Driven, was I, by this melodic force.
Not far away was a break in the path
As I approached I saw a luminous pond
Dozens of Fairies were taking a bath
The Fae are a race that I was quite fond.
Quietly I backed up and went my own way
Dimmer and dimmer became the bright light
Happy to see the light turned to day
So went the happiest night of my life…
UNTITLEDMy chimes they sing to a gust of wind
The feel of it somewhat cold
And I was dancing round the bend
In a field of marigolds.
Field mice scatter to where they may
The garden gnomes stoic and bold
I’m listening to what the wind might say
In a field of marigolds.
Fireflies are dancing in the field
Like me they are breaking the mold
Clouds providing a welcomed shield
In a field of marigolds.
Some Marmots are wobbling across the ground
Their meal is both damp and cold
The hummingbirds making that buzzing sound
In a field of marigolds.
The setting sun means that I must leave
But I’ll remember all that was told
Here we untangle the web that was weaved
In this field of marigolds…
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
Our Wings Flutter And SingOur Wings Flutter And Sing
my feet graze texas plains
southern currents hitting my back
and my body is left
as my soul follows what feels right.
my arms spread wide,
eyes closed and
i let the thought take me away.
i love this cliche
because i have wings with you.
i can fly because of you.
and no matter how many times
i scribble your name as a title of this poem,
i can never mutter it enough
because i’m addicted
to how it rolls off my tongue.
i miss you when i wake up,
when i sleep, when i dream,
because at least there
i wave in the morning
and kiss you through the night.
even departures there feels like
i’m leaving my home
to return to my house.
i think of you first and last,.
of your yawn and laugh,
how you scrunch your nose
and your little grin
even when you try to refuse it.
and i know you hate smiling in pictures,
but i make it my mission
to make you smile as much as possible.
i love how you keep your hair to one side
with the part in the middle.
i love how the l
white sun scattered
on dirty waves
and pelicans dive...
with shy smiles
waiting for the moon...
LostThe only one, I dearly loved,
Who understood my heart...
The cherished one, I clearly loved,
Completely, from the start...
Has been utterly lost, today,
Forever and far away...
Where my feet cannot follow...
And Death, alone, can go.
© Mary Elizabeth Balderrama
I've LostI've lost too many times...
To this foolish heart of mine.
Pain is all it leaves behind...
When I let it rule my mind.
© Mary Elizabeth Balderrama
LuminescentOrb of wisdom; suspended glow
Casting power, to streams that flow
Upon the seas, in waves that grow
Luminescent, for light it sows
Immortal EmberOh luminous star that bathes at sea
Such a blaze of light... faint clarity
Thy flame does ember, thus remember
In light of darkness, I burn with thee