tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31595070731678508822024-02-20T12:10:13.205-07:00Scribblings and Stuffone girl's journey through writing and lifeScribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-3567035505531554652012-07-22T17:51:00.000-06:002012-07-22T17:54:12.743-06:00The Grown-Up<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He <u>swing</u>s</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
chubby legs propelling a small body</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
into the sky</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
his face illuminated</div>
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<u>rosy</u> cheeks and tangled <u>gold</u> hair</div>
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and bare feet</div>
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with tiny toes</div>
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parading through the <u>grasses</u>.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
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and it's over</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
he steps away from the <u>plate</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<u>fling</u>s the bat to the ground</div>
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a <u>spray</u> of profanities</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
erupt</div>
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clouding him with more than disappointment</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
or <u>melancholy</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
more like hate.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
a <u>stray</u> punch finds the wall</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
which doesn't bruise so easily</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he stalks from that room</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that smells of her <u>powders</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that is decorated with <u>erotic</u> pictures cut from magazine <u>cover</u>s<br />
that is cold </div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he swings.</div>
<br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-grown-up.html">here</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-6948111224382091602012-07-15T09:21:00.000-06:002012-07-15T09:22:48.973-06:00The Sniper<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
With an arrogant display of <u>humility</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
he <u>claim</u>s none of the credit</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
for the work he has done</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
giving it all to fate</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
to the gun</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
but he loves to pull the <u>trigger</u>.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Evident in the way he cannot <u>refrain.</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He <u>plant</u>s his feet</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
as if he belonged</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and the adrenaline <u>swells</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
the I-AM-GOD rush rises passionately, angrily, demanding blood and pouring red hot through the <u>crack</u>s in his careful facade</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
jaw clenched - teeth worn to <u>grittle</u> -</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
but his hands still do not shake.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He takes his time.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
With precision and almost motherly care</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
he <u>flicks</u> the safety to off.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
In a moment of eerie silence</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<u>gravity</u> is suspended</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and he is alive</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
for he lives to pull the trigger</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
although it means someone must die.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It isn't personal.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
just a <u>spray</u>, a spattering of life on the sidewalk.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He <u>relishes</u> the moment of freedom</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
but it is just as much a <u>chain</u>.</div>
<br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/07/sniper.html">here</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-28545909160578281122012-07-12T20:39:00.000-06:002012-07-12T20:39:44.393-06:00Empty Hands<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
all of my emotions</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
pour out of my hands</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
out of my heart</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and transform themselves into</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
these</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
tiny words</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
these</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
fragile inadequacies</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that throb painfully</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
spill their inky blood all over this page</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
staining it</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
with every word that was never whispered</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and every touch that was never shared</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and you are my phantom limb</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
the touch of your hands</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that i never felt</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
is what is burning my skin now</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and i scrub at your stains</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
with harsh bleach</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
but you are in my every pore</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
soaked through</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
permanent</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and i can't stop touching your hands</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that won't touch me back</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and i am losing you.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
i am dripping inky blood</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and memories</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
through the cracks between my fingers</div>
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and the harder i try</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
to hold on</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
the more i realize</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
with a horrifyingly raw honesty-with-myself</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that there is nothing</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
for my aching fingers</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
to hold onto</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
anymore.</div>
<br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/07/empty-hands.html">here</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-12462537433798758842012-07-11T09:00:00.000-06:002012-07-11T09:01:43.453-06:00Differ. Halt. Imagine.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
carrion birds descend</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
even they approach the dying</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
with <u>halting</u> steps</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
then</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
tearing</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
life from the living</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
starving beaks exposing</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
your inky words</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
that bled into my bones</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and stained me.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
vicariously now - some would say lesser</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
(here I beg to <u>differ</u>, for flying is flying)</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
my eyes catch</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
a shard of blue</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and my fingers brush eternity</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I am finally flying in dozens of pieces</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
each piece still mine.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
scattered remnants of consciousness <u>imagine</u></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
a forever flight</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
but too broken to grasp the concept</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I turn</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
to simpler things.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
like a silver flash still trapped</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
barren</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
flightless</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and mine.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
inventory is taken</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
then</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
the missing piece is realized</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
recognized</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
hardly recognizable but it is what it is</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
a heart</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
a tin man's heart</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
indigestible but more importantly</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
never for anyone but you to take</div>
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to devour</div>
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to mark with blood red ink</div>
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then</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
ensure that it could never fly.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
wings beat on</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
through stifling, wavering heat</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
vultures have no need for hearts</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
the world spins on</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and I am flying</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
but still stained.</div>
<br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/07/differ-halt-imagine.html">here</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-4978334826230351182012-07-04T16:14:00.001-06:002012-07-04T16:51:05.318-06:00Buffer. Transition. Unity.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I am Kii and I am not a hero, nor a queen, nor a boy on a journey to <u>transition</u> to man, not brave, nor strong, nor beautiful - nothing like anyone you'd want to hear the tale of. I'm not even a proper storyteller, which is why I'm writing my own words instead of a proper story. For anyone not sun-blessed and trial-passed, even a girl-child of fourteen, the punishment for speaking the ancient legends is blindness. To get the attention of the skies and earn my name as a teller of tales, I must tell a story of my own. No light in the sky would want to hear the history of a brown-eyed sparrow of a girl with large feet and flat cheeks, so I will write my own legends here in this book. Soon, when the skies and the elders accept my offering of words, I will be preened by elegant hands and dressed in bells and paid to weave spells about bronze scales flashing sunlight though a sullen fog and handsome young men with rings on every finger and age-worn sheepskins tattooed with maps, searching for names of their own, and an ancient treaty forged before any beating heart can remember, that first <u>unity</u> between sky and ground that formed my people. No one will be able to see my ugliness then.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I am Kii, and words are the <u>buffer</u> between me and the world.</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/07/buffer-transition-unity.html">here.</a></span>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-40903700877160216642012-06-13T08:01:00.002-06:002012-06-13T08:01:36.271-06:00Cling. Murmur. Taken.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It's a <u>murmur</u> that I heard once -<br /> in the late evening, where the sun kisses the earth</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It was crowded.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I cannot remember much more than<br /> a green striped t-shirt</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<u>clinging</u> to a warm body with sweat.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
It was humid.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
The ground was pulsing, like we were on another planet</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
where gravity moved differently</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
and people could dance so fast they were flying.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I almost tasted the sky.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
I cannot recall the face</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
freckled, maybe</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
or just burned from a lot of flying</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
up high, where the sun burns brilliantly</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
up high so that it soaked into his skin</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
his soul.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
He lit up the world.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
"I am quite <u>taken</u> with the way you dance,"</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
His voice reminded me of a lullaby.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
"Your feet almost never touch the ground.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
would you like me to teach you how to fly?"</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
"Yes."</div>
<br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/06/cling-murmur-taken.html" target="_blank">here</a>.Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-70689821539710640922012-06-11T22:18:00.000-06:002012-06-11T22:19:59.238-06:00Down By The River<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
There's a pixie creature, down in the river, that could know those sorts of things. They say she'll come out if you offer her presents. Of course, the fae know what's really valuable - don't waste your time with silver pieces or little trinkets. You'll need witch blessed <u>vessels</u> to hold her prizes: a baby's first laugh, a warrior's tattoo, a forgotten tune. That's the sort of thing she'll take. You lay your offering on one of those big, flat <u>stones</u>, right on the river's edge, and you wait. If it's worthy of her, she'll come.</div>
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">
Have you ever seen one of the fae before? I met that river creature when my first was born moon blessed. She's all <u>shadows</u> - these big, black eyes with purple bruises underneath, like she's never slept before. She <u>trembles</u>, almost vibrates, like she's moving so fast your eyes can't keep up. Everything about her's long too - long, long hair, like <u>willow</u> branches, tangled like the wildest thing you'd ever seen. Her kind have no need for combs or <u>brushes</u> and the suchlike! Long legs, long arms, long fingers, long <u>nails</u>. Every inch of her <u>stained</u> with river <u>mud</u>. Still, she was the most bewitching thing I'd ever seen. For all the shadows, she was lit up. This glow - like the <u>corona</u> of the sun. Yeah, she'd be telling you what you're looking for.</div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You see those </span><u style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">bluffs</u><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> there, where the cows are grazing? Follow that old dirt path down past the well and you'll be able to see the water. It thins out this close to town, where the women do the laundry and send their gossip out to sea. If you want to see you you'll have to climb up higher, where the waters runs fast and deep. There's a lot of old growth - you might have to </span><u style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">crawl</u><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> a bit, to find a private enough spot. But with that gift, she won't be keeping you waiting long for your answers.</span><br />
<br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/06/down-by-river.html" target="_blank">here</a> :)Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-62762112849897006342012-03-07T20:22:00.000-07:002012-03-07T20:22:02.567-07:00Deviant. Minuscule. Trivial.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Minuscule type print words spilling out their inky blood all over a page.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> too much honesty baring of soul heart mind until it's embarrassing.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Easier to donate support sponsor with trivial checks and cards and bills than it is to</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> feel. To love cherish serve with a real human heart because</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Who needs one of those when you can hide behind teeny tiny extra ordinary words.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> leave all that to the deviants who depart detach from what we know as</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Good works.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> with their human hearts.</div><br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/03/deviant-minuscule-trivial.html" target="_blank">here :)</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-87333147219990617052012-02-17T18:39:00.001-07:002012-02-17T18:40:45.636-07:00Angelic. Foster. Ruin.<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She stands, poised to fall.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A juxtaposition between the controlling and the powerless</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">both struggling for ownership of one young frail body.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She crouches, ready to release.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It is her own choice but yet not.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The <u>fostering</u> of mutations seizing years of</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">ugly</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">flat</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">harsh</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">words</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">that bring about loss.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Silhouettes against fire.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Because no one will ever remember her.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We let the <u>ruin</u> happen.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We strive to preserve a facade of glistening white marble</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">for Their eyes that never can see beyond Themselves.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We only let the loveliest of birds sings -</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> the others muted into a strangled pile of bodies on the floor -</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">because Their ears cannot hear, regardless.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We give Them Their power.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The predators do not hunt where there is no prey.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She is outstretched, ready for the wind to carry her.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A final act of defiance because they did not tell her to do it.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It was her own choice.<br />
But yet, not.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With trembling fingers she removes a smooth grey mask</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">revealing <u>angelic</u> features</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">white because they never saw the sun.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">As they watch her fall some understand.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">They too stood at the edge</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">hands on their mask but</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">too afraid to let go</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">because</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">at least anonymity is safe.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Others smile beneath their painted lips</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and allow tears to obscure their victory</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">because</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">now no one can feel safe.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Too few understand the beauty of the flying angel.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But they remove their masks</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">permanently</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">in a silent salute to those who grow lost in the darkness</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">because</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">they were blind to their own light.</div><br />
Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/02/angelic-foster-ruin.html" target="_blank">here :)</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-32213917698047295122012-02-17T17:45:00.003-07:002012-02-17T17:50:43.266-07:00When Words Cannot Be Written<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Awkward.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Morphemes, syllables, words.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nothing of meaning.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I know they exist.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Mere recovery failure.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">But the words that come to mind.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Fillers.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Fakers.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Slice through the air.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Catch and release.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Fall and recovery.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Run run run and leap.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Don't be afraid to fall.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Just roll with it.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Then throw toss grab and cradle.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Letters form words with meaning.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Humanity.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Then struggle.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sounds collide and collapse and nothing means anything.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Numb fingers writing numb lines.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Meaningless.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nothingness.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Carve down and swing upward.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A startled flight and a wolf's landing.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sliding across the floor.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Extension of energy.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Contract and explode in a vibratory moment of release.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Then perfect control.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Don't internalize this.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Make it real.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Explained <a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2012/02/when-words-cannot-be-written.html" target="_blank">here :)</a></div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-81905121416236087382011-10-09T14:29:00.001-06:002011-10-09T14:38:45.868-06:00A Player's Dream<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">a wish born from granite ears and throbbing lips</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> colliding</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> confiding</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> captivating as a whirlwind of light and night and gilded ashes</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">falling as a flurry of snowy feathers</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and lit once upon a broken wing</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> held forgotten by the </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> underground</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">kept silent by the muting gasp</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> of trees falling alone</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> and firebirds scattering their mocking song</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to the rain.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">an ethereal hope set fire by the passions of a numb monochrome</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> tingling with the promise of yesterday</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> and the abandonment of tomorrow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2011/10/players-dream.html" style="font-family: inherit;">Explained here :)</a></span>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-17687944727214294282011-09-04T17:12:00.002-06:002011-09-04T17:22:42.681-06:00Butterflies<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">There is a <u>hitch</u> in her breath</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> a <u>quivering</u> in the way she speaks</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> holds herself</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> hops <u>birdlike</u> from one foot to another</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> in anxious and uncontrollable energy.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some look and see nothing but a <u>pallid</u> child</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> a fragile, delicate, feeble thing</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> more suited to <u>crawl</u> than walk</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> the sort who needs those handicap <u>bars </u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> so small and weak</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> it breaks an onlooker's heart.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> She dresses, at best, "off the <u>rack</u>"</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <u>studded</u> jeans and oversized t-shirts</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> that tell her story in their printed words</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> "2007 Bible Camp"</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> "2008 - 2009 Theatre"</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> "Soup Kitchen Volunteer - Christmas 2010"</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <u>hordes</u> of memories preserved in a dresser drawer.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">If you looked into her eyes you would find</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> a greater strength than is usually found</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> among <u>women</u> who stand straighter</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> taller</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> in confidence and heels.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">If you talked to her you would find</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> a sense of humor and lightness of spirit usually found</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> only in those with the best of circumstances</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> but she is funny</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> almost silly, a <u>goof</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> a personality that <u>blooms</u> into the most beautiful</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> the strongest, brightest, and most inspirational </div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> of people you could ever find.</span><br />
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<a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2011/09/butterflies.html">Explained here :)</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-67350246019650416252011-09-04T16:43:00.000-06:002011-09-04T16:43:17.920-06:00Birth of Tomorrow<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Tomorrow is born every 4.2 seconds somewhere in this world.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow are born into circumstance, with a great responsibility of lucky coincidence and divine gifts to guide their destinies. They are those who either step up to the plate and keep the world revolving with their brain power, their financial situation, their charity and love; or instead they fail to meet their potential, and another day of the future dims and becomes dark.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow are born already without light. They also are born to individual destinies - their destinies lie in being a soldier for no cause as soon as they are strong enough to hold a rifle in their innocent hands, in begging on the streets to support a family too large and too hungry, in going without. For some, tomorrow is just a continuation of today.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow never see the light.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow are born with a brightness that surpasses their circumstance, a brilliance that blinds their fated stars and guides them on their own way. The sun rises from every horizon no matter where in the world you are - from mountain or plain, distant city or over the hills, guiding lights can appear. They are those who find the darkest places, the places without hope, and scatter light throughout the darkness.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow are born with the potential of brilliance that others turn and twist and morph into the deepest despair and agony and darkness possible. They spread it wherever they go, their anger and desperation oozing from their souls like the most infectious disease. </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow are born to feed the past. Their destinies revolve around that of another. They shine to allow another to reflect that light, to claim it as their own. Though they may never see the light themselves they brighten the world simply by their existence.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Some tomorrow are born to fuel the future. They are those who were never intended for greatness, those whose light is not strong enough of itself to guide the world. They are of a quieter, more unassuming sort, who's steady glow when combined with that of others gives way to a whole new world of never being unable to find your way.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Tomorrow is born today, each and every day, with passions and luminescence and transcendence that is beyond today's wildest dreams.</div><br />
<a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2011/09/birth-of-tomorrow.html">Explained here :)</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-33368454486578673962011-08-28T16:16:00.000-06:002011-08-28T16:16:46.253-06:00Naked<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Shed your <u>skins</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">like an old <u>cloak</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">full of snags and tears from trying just too hard</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to move through life too fast</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">best described as "well-worn"</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">stained with coffee and Sharpie</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and bleach <u>residue</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">from trying to scrub out life's mistakes:</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the smell of alcohol and his cologne</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and even the occasional cigarette burn</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">trying so hard to disguise with lies</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">your <u>truth</u>, so glaringly apparent.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Shed your skins</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and wipe clean your past</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><u>sweep</u> out every corner of those places</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">in your mind best left forgotten</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">every <u>trunk</u> stuffed with what remains from</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">your yesterdays</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><u>vessels</u> of nostalgia that do nothing but</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">hold you back</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the things that <u>matter</u> now lie only ahead.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Shed your skins</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">with <u>fervent</u> intensity </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">remove every layer thoroughly and completely</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">until you are bare</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">until every painted-on mask is dissolved</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">clear out the <u>dust</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">that mars the mirrors hidden in that attic of memory</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">see yourself clearly for once.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Shed your skins</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and breathe in the world</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">let the <u>breeze</u> move you to glide</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to fly</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">among higher clouds in higher places</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><u>turn</u> your face towards the light.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Shed your skins</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">let life</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">let love</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">touch your naked soul.</span><br />
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<a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2011/08/naked.html">Explained here :)</a>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-8379611917025223602011-08-28T14:55:00.003-06:002011-08-28T15:01:33.270-06:00What He Is<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is what would be if those early morning rays that split through the mountains and dapple the Earth in faerie hues could swell into a person.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is the hope that rises each morning with the brilliant sun, that feeling of release as the sky sheds its cloak of darkness and stretches from horizon to horizon, shielding the world with it's body of blue.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is the clear opening notes of a lullaby sung in true love to the ears of the innocent, that way that sounds are purer, truer, when they are heard by the right person.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is a wafting melody that drifts along in the breeze as somewhere, far off, a flute is being played to the silence.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is prose and poetry and melody that could go on forever without once resting, an endless storm that swirls around my mind and fingers and soul.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is inspiration. </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Pure light.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Pure life. </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He is my muse today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://insidescribblersmind.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-he-is.html">Explained here :)</a></span>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-9970655318365383902011-08-27T18:19:00.000-06:002011-08-27T18:19:27.719-06:00Born In Light<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">light shimmer glow bright magnify captivate</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he was like nothing noone noplace anything i had ever seen before</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">in the shadows there is not much light</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">when your dreams bleed pain anguish hopelessness forgotten no tomorrow</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">there is not much beauty</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he was beauty</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">touch pain stroke grasp clench engulf carry me in your arms</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">lead me out of this place darkness disability</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">take me somewhere somehow someone someplace that i can finally</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">breathe</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">breath is for them who can give as well as take</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">simply spoken his voice was like a future</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">like something somedream someheaven where i learn how to</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">feel</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
feeling is special too</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">for them with eyes to see absorb take in understand</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">with fingers to trace line caress comprehend</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">with heart to tell you that</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he is more than just a person</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he is more</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">more</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">than</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">dark</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">hurt</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">numb</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">broken</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he is sensation sensational emotional technicolor but it</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">burns so bright in my nothing my monochrome</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">but i crave need desire long choke for the want of him</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">born of the shadows</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i just want to find capture captivate treasure hoard rejoice in a little light</span>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-3855341264968523652011-08-27T18:08:00.000-06:002011-08-27T18:08:09.027-06:00On The Inside<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please tell me something I can believe</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I know that I am not beautiful.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please feed me something soaked with enough truth</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That it will feel true</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">To me.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Don't lie.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I know that I am not beautiful.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please let me feel again</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Something, anything.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Let me feel my hands on my face</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Your heart in my soul</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please take me in your arms just one last time.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You don't have to say a word</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Because I know that I am not beautiful.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Just this once let your body speak for you</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Make me feel beautiful.</span><br />
Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-48000772833472922992011-08-21T16:28:00.001-06:002011-08-21T16:28:37.840-06:00Mine<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">bobbing on a splintered plank </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i lay my face alongside his</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">bruised, swollen</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and so utterly fragile, like filtered light on the sea floor </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">but he is achingly beautiful</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">beautiful to me because now he is mine.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">they told me i could not take him</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i am mer</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he is human</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i am the sea</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and he is born from the land</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">but nothing is so simple.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i took him to his second birth</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and now he will be part of the sea forever.</div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-48029298033768759732011-08-21T15:50:00.001-06:002011-08-21T15:51:57.536-06:00A Stranger On A Street Corner<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><u>Stranger</u> and stranger still, the words of a stranger</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The underground murmurs of a <u>revolution!</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">of <u>light!</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and right!<u><br />
</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That charismatic man on his corner</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Who soothes the <u>desperation</u> of the shadows and the dark </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Who sees and feels and tastes everything we can't</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Our <u>cracked</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Jagged</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Splintered sense of reality devoid of everything</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">To which we have been taught to be so numb.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Spoken from throbbing lips to <u>granite</u> ears</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Is it <u>wasted</u> breath if no one hears?</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why does he stand in the rain and the snow</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">In a <u>cheap</u> plaid coat and shoes that have walked too many a moon</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With strangers who didn't care for a stroll</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why does he <u>spin</u> for us</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This yarn of</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Once upon a time</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> There was a bird born from <u>ash</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Who flew to the highest peak of a mountain</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> To grant a faery wish to the most beautiful girl in all the land</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Who wished this world to be <u>cleansed</u> from</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cynicism.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And disbelief.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Too little faith.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">And a pinch too much of "I" and "me" and "mine".</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I <u>slouch</u> past him and <u>screw</u> up my face</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For I am far too mature and wise and sophisticated to stay.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I have no use in my busy life for the faery tales</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Of that stranger on his street corner.</span>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-51956535480340437492011-08-19T08:28:00.001-06:002011-08-19T08:29:34.758-06:00Sacrifice<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Sing me a lullaby."</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The request, command, plea - he hadn't been with her long enough to know her moods - came from below, where she lay under his guard. He complied, because that's what he had been born to do. It was dark enough that she, with her brown, human eyes, wouldn't be able to see him but for perhaps a bit of shadow darker than the rest. He, however, could see her perfectly. Nestled into a patch of breath-soft grasses. A blanket woven from sunbeams glowing faintly, pulled up to cover her from chin to toes. Her face was vulnerable, almost weak, even, but it's soft innocence didn't repulse him. Quite frankly, it was what had drawn him to choose her over all the others. The idea that for one night she could sleep knowing that she was perfectly, completely safe.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He licked his lips, drawing in a shallow touch of air, tasting her scent on his tongue. As the moon rose higher in the sky, he crooned out words in the tongue of the Fae; nothing strictly a lullaby, merely snatches of stories memorized from his own childhood. Spoken softly, in a lilting cadence. He spoke of flame-lit gathering, of summoning dragons and spirits from the sea. He told her the love story of a merkind and a gryphon's human, their tragedy, their loss. She was asleep quickly, lured into a blank, dreamless rest by the gravity of his voice, and still he talked on.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He told her the history of the Fae, hoping desperately that she would understand. Of the first Seeker, who chased the sun, running and running endlessly until finally he burst from this world in a lick of flame and surrendered himself completely, until he flew from this heavenly entity to another. Of the Silverlust, the desire, the need for sacrifice. How the Sun would not surrender its rays for jealousy of the Moon's followers. He told her of the first sacrifice - a young child, sleeping in the moorlands against the warmth of an old dog, bathed for six hours in pure moonlight. His blood was the color of the sunrise that first rebirth of the Sun.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The night spun by, steady as the constant spin of the Earth, and time passed quickly for him. Hardly a moment of life ticked by between the time his stories ran out and the moon had set completely. Hardly a nick in her life, just a single night, that determined her destiny. Her own rebirth.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This was hardly his first time with a sacrifice, but every time held the same feelings of trepidation, anxiety, and utter longing. </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He took her into the blackness, unlit by either Moon nor Sun. She glowed with a faerie luminescence from her long night beneath the Moon's power. He held her gently in his arms, careful not to bounce and jostle her, and her eyes looked steadily in his own. Although he knew that the others were using their persuasions to keep her calm, he liked to think that she knew, understood, accepted and forgave.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The sacrifice stone was ancient and craggy, glimmering with a thousand tiny uncut gems and throbbing with a life of its own from all those lost on it. He lay her onto the cold slab, her now silvery hair flowing out beneath her. Her lips parted slightly, a faint rosy color, as if she meant to speak but could not find the words. Ever so gently, he removed her blanket and thin slip, so that every inch of her Moon-soaked body was exposed into the shadow ridden night. She lay as still and motionless as if she was carved from stone herself, the perfection of her miniature features illuminated by the power within her.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">With one quick, practiced, easy move, he slit her throat.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Shining blood bathed the rock in red and the clearing pulsated with the power of those strong enough to hold themselves back from the Moonlust. The weak never came. Her eyes fluttered shut as the essence of what fed the Fae, what made them strong, what brought the Sun back to the Earth each morning, flowed freely under the observation of the heavens and its guards.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He didn't know exactly what the Sun did with her. That part of the ceremony had never been seen by anyone yet living - the Fae only knew that the bodies were always gone by the next morning.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Sun poured its light onto the world, and a new day began.</div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-87751281511904393552011-08-17T08:05:00.002-06:002011-08-17T08:25:03.587-06:00Gasp. Mute. Viable.<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><u>Mute</u> them.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Just turn them OFF. </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The voices in my head.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">whispering</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> muttering</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> teasing</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> <u>gasp</u>ing</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Screaming.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">STOP.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Everything pales in comparison.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Even the sun.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">nothing is real but the voices</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Vibrant</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> ALIVE.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">They speak.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> I listen.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">They command.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> and it is a <u>viable</u> course of action</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">a necessity </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I follow.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I obey.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">NO.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> why can't you just leave me</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> ALONE.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">burn every bridge behind you</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">let the flames lick me like so much</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">warmth and love</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">until i can be warm forever</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">until i can fly as ashes in the wind</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">because you make me feel so </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">COLD</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">when you tell me what i need</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">what i want</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">what i have to</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> KILL.</span>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-62662503713142962582011-08-15T19:02:00.002-06:002011-08-17T12:51:25.469-06:00Four Painters<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The first one was simple. As simple as a child's painting set - red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and black. A small brush that could withstand overeager young artists. A paper cup leaking stained water out onto some old newspapers strewn across the floor. He was...quaint. A quiet, uncomplicated soul if there ever was one. There wasn't any of the witty banter, the sort that slices and captivates. There wasn't any grand romancing or extravagant gifts or elegant parties. There were picnics under the sun, and stargazing with an old pair of binoculars, inherited from a beloved grandfather, beneath the moon. There were handpicked wildflowers tied with a shoelace on my porch. There was contentment.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The second was strong and weathered. He was older - more experienced. He was bigger, too, in a brawny way that made me feel safe. He was long hours of silence, of hands running through hair and caressing cheeks, of two people who fit together like they were made for each other. He was a fat roller brush that could sweep a fresh coat of paint over every flaw and imperfection instantly, smoothing out my walls until they were like new. He was comfort and safety.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The third seemed interesting, at first, like a bucket of paint in a color never before seen. He was rainbow hued, colors that changed in the sun, paint that shimmered if you looked at it a certain way. The bucket he resided in may have been a bit plain, flecked with old paint splatters and well used, but the contents within made up for it. He was the sophistication that was lacking. He was stage lights and enormous roses bloomed out of season and shipped from the other side of the world in a rush order. But he was only color, only paint, with no way to get on me. He couldn't change the fact that we were just too different. With him, I was always just a shadow.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The last, the fourth, is something new. He's more than just a brush or a particular color. He's artistic, and capable, and beautiful in every way. He is every piece of everything. He's a jumbled pile of paints and supplies, everything that is needed to create a masterpiece. And for once, he isn't only a painter. To him, I'm more than a canvas. Together, we are art.</div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-20275303904152267872011-08-14T22:08:00.001-06:002011-08-17T12:51:57.833-06:00Sacred Places<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">a <u>sporadic</u> scattering of</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> stones</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> beads</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> pictures</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">a <u>tuft</u> of fur from a beloved friend</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">long gone.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the space is small enough to <u>hinder</u> all movement</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and momentarily</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i am <u>enmeshed</u> in a bit of</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> soft white yarn.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">untagling myself, i shake loose</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">a bit of <u>plaster</u></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and she looks at me like</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> i'd committed some <u>seditious</u> crime.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the <u>stigma</u> placed on secrets</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> and secret keeping</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> especially from one's parents</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">causes her trepidation</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">until i <u>pledge</u> to keep silent</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">from here to the <u>nether</u> lands.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> satisfied, she lets me in entirely.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">i <u>tread</u> carefully</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> here.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">in a child's <u>sacred</u> place.</div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-6718917802621551012011-08-12T11:25:00.001-06:002011-08-17T12:52:58.264-06:00I've Spent My Life<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I've spent my life</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">chasing</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">the shadow of a cloud.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Finding</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">what this world</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">never intended</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to be found.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I thought the answers were in</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">words</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">whispers</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">swept into oceans and</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">drenched in rain.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That I could live</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">my life</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">through another's</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">joys</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">loves</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">pains.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I thought</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">forever</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">was forever</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">and tomorrow</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">couldn't come.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I wasted my time in shadows</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">when I could have</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">felt the sun.</div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3159507073167850882.post-28283197642651390662011-08-12T10:49:00.003-06:002011-08-17T12:53:17.469-06:00Elusive<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She was an explorer, an adventurer. A soul searcher, a secret finder, a treasure hunter. She was one of those kind - the transcendent, marked by the world but still flowing freely through time and space and energy like a brilliant sunbeam. She lit up the world.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She was on a mission. In search of glittering treasure, she found something different, something of infinite more worth. Something that she had been looking, even longing, for. She bundled it up carefully in silk woven from starlight and held it close to her, but still, the guardian of the paradox demanded a sacrifice. She offered her gold and jewels, treasure maps and secret passwords in the ancient tongue, but the guardian knows what a person values the most. The one thing a person could never give up. The guardian stole away its prize and spun her around and around a blank slate world until all that was left was the barest glimpse of something she so desperately needed.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The guardian could not keep its stolen goods, for something so delicate, so magical, could not be contained by those whom it was never intended. The secrets, the answer to all that she had once known, belonged to the place where they were born. The answers were not in the fleeting moments of contact or the long stretches of reaching for something that wasn't there. They weren't in the snatches of conversation, muted by the steel grey planes throbbing with ancient life and the omnipresent dust that dulled everything like a vow of silence. Rather, they were bled out in primary red and swept into an unforgiving river, now tinged pink, lost forever.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She searched for the answers for many years. She climbed mountains and invaded castles. She fought bears and tigers and men for the truth. It is very difficult, however, to look for something when you can't even remember what it is. It is even harder to find your way out of the darkness when your eyes cannot adjust to the light. No matter what she did, or where she went, she could never find what she so longed to know. Then, one day, as she was walking through an enchanted place, a cloud loomed overhead and she was caught in its shadow.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She knew.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She stretched her fingers and closed her eyes and breathed it in. Watched out for, cared for, cared <i>about</i>, for the first time since she could remember. Sharing secrets, sharing trust. The look and feel and feeling of a hand reaching out to her just before she...</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Could feel the sun on her skin again, the warmth unable to reach anything inside. Just like that, the secrets were lost. She chased them for many days, following the cloud and the answers it had soaked up from the river, hoping to be caught in the storm that would release every memory to her. But alas, the shadow of a cloud is a flighty thing, not predictable or able to be trusted, and as elusive as a true friend.</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When the rain fell, it fell far from her, washing away the tears and filling the soul of someone who needed its answers even more. Me.</div>Scribblerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09693402306029886703noreply@blogger.com0