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Thursday, April 28, 2011

Since I've been writing poetry since long before I started this blog, I'm going to post older poems as well as new stuff. Here's a little gem from the very beginning of the school year, back when I thought I was good at writing poetry but actually wasn't (as opposed to thinking I'm good at writing poetry and actually being good at it). This was my audition for my high school poetry slam team...

Somehow I managed to make the team.

Anyways, enough gab. Here's the poem.

Silence

Night seeped into my soul long ago,
Dripping poison like immobilizing tar,
Set its cold fingers into my heart and sent me into a stupor.
I know its touch, that hand of death,
That cold and unfeeling pit in my chest,
That open mouth of darkness waiting to swallow me up.
I know all too well how it feels to have my toes resting on the edge of despair,
Gazing into its depths and wanting with all my heart to fall,
To give myself up to the unending depression,
To feel like I was flying only until I hit the bottom,
But only able to cry out “Let it end!
“Take it away!
“Please, please, no more!”
Never having the courage to jump like so many before me,
To let the night control me and take me into its cold, cold arms...
That cruel mother from which I was born and into which I will fall in death.
I was led by the light of neon,
Hand in hand with my dark angel who silenced my cries of fear with frozen fingers,
Taking me down dark alleyways in a city of crumbled hopes and dreams,
Inhabited only by the ones that came before me to rot in this place,
Curled in a fetal position and crying, crying, crying...
Crying for the light that felt might never come.
I struggled to pull my hand from hers, struggled to rip her palm from my mouth and scream
“Let it end!
“Take it away!
“Please, please, no more!”

Light came to my being that day,
Spread its wings like a butterfly and brushed the edges of my tattered soul.
For the first time, I felt joy,
My cruel mistress beaten back by the sword of that seraphim,
That golden champion.
The darkness shrieked as it dissolved into day, warmed by the sunlight.
That day lingers, glows from my core and lights the way ahead,
Shoos away the dark things of the night and keeps the fallen angel at bay.
She will not control me,
Nor will she silence me ever again as I say these words out loud for the whole world to hear!
I will not be silenced!

Some Poems and a Promise

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This is my first-ever blog entry! Yay!

I made a promise to myself today. I noticed (although it wasn't really hard to see) that the only things I write these days are sad girl poetry, or poetry about things dying... especially, um, birds dying.

I dunno. I guess I have a bit of a fixation on birds and dying. o3o Maybe. Well, no, not maybe, because in all (3) of the things I'm getting published in the lit mag, a bird dies. Or is strangled. Or gets crushed.

I guess that is an obsession.

But anyways, I made a deal with myself that I have to write two happy poems for every sad poem I write. This means I'll be writing 3 times as much poetry as usual. I think this is good. Healthy, even.

So here is a sad poem, and a happy poem to counteract it. The other one isn't quite ready yet, as I just wrote it today. :)

Phantom

I realized too late as I stood in the wings
Of the stage in front of a ravenous crowd
That I was not like them,
So I put on a mask,
A grin so disfigured, grotesque and plastic as to not appear human.
From the back of the opera house I looked just the same
As the actors who acted with cheeks rouged and teeth white
As tombstones.

The pearly beads fell--
Like tears from my eyes--
As I danced and leaped to thunderclaps of applause,
A soloist wanting nothing more, nothing more
Than to blend in the background--
And disappear.

The glitter went flying with sweat and my tears
Until nothing was left but the paper maiche,
Broken and battered and just barely hiding
My face,
All tear-streaked and desperate and brutally bruised, see.
They used me, confused me to play on this stage,
Dancing and prancing and aching and shaking
Until I collapse in the skinburning spotlight.
Now they shall see me for just what I am,
Different,
Ugly,
And all alone.
The Robin

Leaves twigprints in the morningmud,
Hopalongs a while in early light,
Onetwo-onetwo quickly steps,
Casts a glance leftright leftright.

Calls quietly, cracks dawn air,
Looks a beady eye my way,
Listens a while, answers, chirps,
Openwings and flyaways.