Sunday, March 31, 2013


This was sparked while watching Queen of The Damned.

Avant (forward)


If you need a prompt I'm going to give you a challenging one. Listen to "Shadows" by Lindsey Stirling (don't watch the video) and answer the following questions:

Where is this happening?
What is happening in her piece?
What is the emotion?

And then write a poem about what's happening.


I have never heard this song and the intensity and intricacy of the violin seemed to conflict with the driving pulse of the beat which for me felt like internal conflict. The violin immediately brought to mind the image of a ballerina, the beat made me feel determined, driven.

This is what I came up with…

Sitting on the marley floor
she laces the ribbon securely
around the ankle of her outstretched leg.
Preparation nearly complete
she stands on pointed toes
extending every muscle.
She is warm, she is ready
and she leaps into the air
as if she is throwing herself forward.
With ferocity of movement
yet a precision that borders on
stillness personified, she begins.
Again and again and with 
a steely hardened resolve
she attacks the floor with the steady drive of a pulse.
Dessous, dessus, devant,
under, over, front
rapid fire movement, pounding out a beat.
Trial, failure, try and fail
she will keep this pace
until these twists and turns bear her name.
She will own this sweat, this blood these tears
she will own this screaming pain
but for now she is driven by the pounding in her ears.
First position once again
the crescendo of this act begins to build
and she is flying.
She has become the movement
she has become the music
she becomes all that she sought and she is found.

Too small, too BIG

Poetics – Modern Day Mythology
Mary's dverse prompt this week is "to think of a character that we were familiar with, one that  might be fun, inspiring, or even provocative to write about. It can be a real person or a fairy tale character or folk tale character.
Here we go!
Looking for adventure
Alice takes a fall.
she tumbles into another world.
With mystical illusions
and advice from a caterpillar.
She can’t decide if she wants to be BIG
or small.
Drinking from the bottle
and eating the mushrooms and cakes.
She tries to walk through many different doors.
As she grows too quickly everyone starts to tease her
and too much pepper always makes her sneeze.
Running in circles proves to get you nowhere
and this is the stupidest tea party she’s ever seen!
Playing games with one dimensional faces
who at the slightest dissatisfaction scream
“off with his head!”
The Gryphon takes her to the trial
but on the way
she is chastised by the Dormouse
for being too BIG.
Everyone grows, she says,
as if she’s the one on trial
and with that she is stricken from the court.
Citing Rule 42,
the King and Queen are upon her
 she covers her head from the hail of playing cards.
Slowly she awakens by the river
and shakes the leaves from her tousled hair.
The adventure over
she walks easily through the door
and suddenly
she is just the right size again.

Saturday, March 30, 2013


New song lyrics.
It's just a little song about hope.
 It's amazing what a new pair of shoes can do you to your outlook!
There may be another verse to come, we'll see...
v.    Rising clouds on the horizon
casting shadows over me.
Rain falling all around this place
blurring everything I see.
Long days and longer nights
spent slowly tearing down the walls.
Climbing up out of the darkness
maybe this time I won’t fall.
c.     Something about you makes me feel like I could shine
that I could kick off these old shoes
and I could dance one more time.
That there’s a melody in me that I have
never sung before.
Words still left unwritten
carry hope of something more.
Something about you makes me feel like I could shine.
v.   Unsteady road yet I am walking
counting steps in these new shoes.
Trying hard to find a rhythm
letting go what I can’t use.
I feel lighter in these footsteps
looking back I see a trace.
Of where I’ve been of where I’m going
and that this must be the place.
c.    Something about you makes me feel like I could shine
that I could kick off these old shoes
and I could dance one more time.
That there’s a melody in me that I have
never sung before.
Words still left unwritten
carry hope of something more.
Something about you makes me feel like I could shine.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Keep Me

This was inspired by something I read this morning that resonated with me.
Thank you to the author of that work.
I am raw and bleeding
exposed and standing alone.
I am naked in the eyes of anyone who looks
but none of them ever see.
The burning ache, the raw and ravaged
surface of my skin.
That simply tries to cover
what is hiding beneath,  stripped bare.
Defenseless as a child
crying with the need to be held.
No solace comes, no relief of the pain
the distress now the mask that I wear.
Trapped in the dark of this silence
where no one can hear me scream.
Simply wanting to be heard
even if not understood.
To catch the glimpse of a knowing eye
not seeing that face blindly turn .
To be taken into loving arms
that make this all  go away.
Keep me safe and keep me warm
keep me close within.
Keep me near enough that I can touch you
and know that you are there.


Tonight I find myself sleepless again. I picked up my guitar and sang myself lullabies. I played U2's Running To Stand Still, which is one of my favorites songs to sing, and this is what it gave me.
In the deepest dark of night
I find myself again.
Alone and lying sleepless
with ghosts hovering over my head.
Spirits and shadows casting
images on my walls.
And even further into my mind
and my heartbeat quickens its pace.
I always wish for lullabies
for songs sung in the dark.
For a warm voice to wrap itself around me
and take me back to my dreams.
I wish for the comfort of soothing words
floating on feathered wings.
Like something the angels left on the wind
that blew over me like a breeze.
Tonight I got up and turned on a light
that cast a cool blue over the room.
I picked up my guitar and played for myself
a quiet lullaby.
With my outstretched hand I muted the strings
the sound was a quiet echo.
In a whispered voice I felt the words
of a story of a girl.
The story is one of trying
of hope in the face of despair.
About raising your voice without making a sound
about raging to find yourself.
It is hopeful through its images
of a dark and broken place.
It is strong within its silence
a quiet driving force.
It peaks just before the final words
which come in a soundless breath.
And drifts off to a sweet wordless melody
against the pace of a beating heart.
Whatever left me sleepless
has left me with this song.
I lay my guitar down next to me
and close my eyes again.
Good night...

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Too much and Never enough

Why can you only see your reflection

in someone else’s eyes?

Why can you only stand up

when you lean on someone else?

The self, by definition,

is you and you alone.

But you keep looking for someone else

to show you who you are.

You made a decision some time ago

to forge this road alone.

To take the untraveled path

to places never seen.

When you came to the fork you faltered

and ended up right back here.

You’ve felt this before, you’ll feel it again

this is how you move.

In circles, with blinding repetition

around and around again.

Seeing yourself through someone’s eyes

isn’t really what you wanted at all.

It’s glaring, it’s cold, it’s distant, it’s hard

to stand there for any length of time.

All you ever really wanted

was for someone to see you as you are.

But you shouldn’t have to ask them to look

they should be asking you.

After wanting that for so long

it's now just a wide open wound.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

The Elastic Heart

What would you tell a heart

that had a crush on you?

Would you tell it to go back inside

and close the door as it went?

Would you tell it to turn out the light

to take its toys and go home?

Would you tell that it was not welcome here

and could no longer come over and play?

Would you tell it to throw away your words

and forget the sound of your voice?

Would you tell it that taking a chance

was something it should be punished for?

A crush is well intentioned

something light and free.

It’s kind of like a tickle

something that makes you smile.

I ask you because I know you’ve had

a crush or two in your time?

 I wonder what you said to yours

and what advice you had.

Did you tell it to be elastic

to bend and not to break?

Did you tell it to stretch itself to test

the reality of its strength?

Did you tell it that it was all ok

that it was just a simple crush.

Or did you tell it that everything was different now

and this was all just too much?

A crush, as I said, is simple,

it’s not unrequited love.

It’s not desperation and longing

it’s a balloon cut loose from its string.

It’s taking a ride on a swing

forward and then back.

You always end up at the starting point

there is comfort in knowing that.

Maybe it’s not even a crush

maybe it’s just a smile.

It’s being outside in the warmth of the sun

where I haven’t been in such a long time.


Monday, March 25, 2013


Soaking, polluted, drowning,

today I will spend the day numb.

I don’t want to feel any of this

I already know how to bleed.

I thought that you saw me; I know that you heard me

but for me that wasn’t enough.

I had to stand before you naked

so that you could tell me no.

I pull the pillow over my head

to block out all of the light.

I don’t want to see myself today

I’m not liking who I am.

I hate that I opened the door

hate that I stepped outside.

I don’t know how to behave out there

with other people around.

Really it’s just me

that keeps on making mistakes.

I can’t just enjoy simple happiness

it has to be filled with angst.

With pain, with regret, with longing

with ache, with something raw.

It has to become lines on a page

before I know what it is.

I don’t know now about this though

I don’t know what to say.

I want to run and hide

in a place that has no words.

This is just me bleeding

letting all of it go.

Don’t worry, don’t sweat it, don’t think twice

really, I’ll be fine.


Sunday, March 24, 2013


Today I despise the need

yet I celebrate its validation of life.

I hate the way that it strips me bare

defenseless and exposed.

I want to feel it, all of it

so on pages I can write it down.

I want to dance with reckless abandon

and never feel ashamed.

I want to be raw and pure and true

and I want you to see me.

But I don’t want you to know that I want to

because you will take the things that I need.

I want to be transparent

I want to be lighter than air.

I want to be a feather caught in the wind

I don’t want to care where I land.

I want to bleed for you

and watch you paint yourself red.

In the colours of me, in the knowing of you

in the freedom to speak these words.

I want to sleep like a baby

after letting myself go.

Without the fear that I will awake to find

that I am once again here alone.

I want everything and I want nothing

because nothing leaves me safe.

What would be lost or missing

if I just take it away? 

The Dark Angel

You have not passed by

the windows of my mind in years.

Elijah, the poet

the man with the tortured soul.

Fed by the ravens and

ravaged by your own inner demons.

Driven by the beat

of the dark angel’s pounding drum.

Dressed in leather moccasins

hair, a flowing, jet black, mane.

A lion’s head

tattooed on your arm.

I was just a girl

the first time that I saw you.

And from that day

nothing was ever the same.

Plagued by the warring sides

of the black and white of your soul.

We sat for hours and hours

surrounded by pages of words.

I loved you with the passion

and the innocence of youth.

You said you loved too much

and could not let yourself.

You said that you would only

break my tender heart.

That the stains upon your soul

would destroy me.

You did break my heart

no matter what you said.

You were within me

though our bodies never met.

You came to me

just now, in a dream.

To tell me you were sorry

but you had to go.

You begged me to come with you

to throw caution to the wind.

To follow the tear stained path

that once led me away from you.

I have no idea where you are now

I was 17 years old.

Why now, would you

visit me in my dreams?

I hear those haunting melodies

that fell softly from your lips.

In a voice that sounded like smoke

swirling above my head.

The memories of you linger

still and I can taste them.

All of my ghosts

seem to be coming back from the grave.