Myths--updatedi.Hugin and Munin are ravens that sit on the blind man's shoulders. He says they are his memory and sight. I say they ate his eyes.ii.Prometheus was Loki. He tricked, and tricked, until he got chained to a rock with the entrails of hope and had poison dripped in his eyes as he waited for the eagle to fly his liver away to freedom. I never could help the poor lad.iii.Medusa was actually quite lovely...she couldn't help that her wig hissed and that she was half-basilisk. I wonder if she ever fell in love watching a man from behind a veil.iv.The unicorn was replaced by rhinoceroses...the silver blood replaced with bellowing mud. That was truly an unfair trade. I miss the world having a bit of mystery and magic.v.Cupid accidentaly shot himself and fell in love with the soul that he was meant to shoot. I think that I may have gotten caught in crossfire too.
They can't take that awayi.I woke up this morning and wondered why I bother removing myself from sleep before I absolutely must. I turned off my alarm and decided to cut my preperation in half and leave without a single dot of lipgloss. I woke up to smoother tones than is usual and got dressed in too-thin shirt, skirt, and tights. The wind these days seems to cut through anything I wear. Despite my resolutions I go ahead and dab on my face; some powder here, some blush there, making something from a more tired something.I'm awake. I am functioning. I am alive.ii.Last night I waited for you to return my call. You didn't. I think it is sad that I expect you to never call me back, to pass friendship in silent phone calls that never existed. Do you know how much of my life you have affected? All of it. It's strange, because our lives seem to have gone seperate ways. I didn't know you changed Melanie until I saw her. She used to be silver, laid back and average. Now she is cool and dark, mysterious and haunting
An Account...Oh. My. God. He's getting closer.I know, that shouldn't be such a bad thing, right? Here I am. A twenty five year old single woman. I haven't had a date for three years. So, I ought to be flattered that a guy is trying to get closer to me, right? Aside from the homeless guys and such that try stuff on the subways
god, I hate it when they get close to me with their body odor and creepy pervert grins.The last date I had was in college. He was on the baseball team, and talked the whole time about football. I hate football. That is why I went out with a baseball player. The last date I went out on was a complete flop, but that is not why I quite dating. Really, it isn't. I quit because I was busy. I mean, that's what happens in your senior year. I had my student teaching, and capstone presentations, and graduation, and new job. I just didn't have time for a guy. And there were not any guys that seemed worth my time.That is not to say that I don't know any men. No, I know a lot of m
I Miss...I miss the winter snowsThe ice weighing down the tree branchesLetting in the cold daylightI miss the winter windLeaving almost visible trails in the icy airPushing me along brisklyI miss the winter nightsThe stars shining brighter than in summerMultiplied in ice laden boughs
Haiku For A PervertYour lecherous gazeReally freaks me the hell outLeave me alone creep
Pen and paperIt's like a blanket of fog, waiting waiting waiting for some thing to emerge.Mysterious woodlands,A knight on a white horse,Dreams and legends of the romantic heart.A futuristic cityscape,Assasains poised for muder,Dark wishes and an elegant nightmare.Rumpled bedding,Lover forever joined.Desires revealed by hallelujah sighs.All of that just waiting to come out of the fog...if I could draw it forth.
Walking on airI'm walking on airDancing a waltz with the north windA tango with the hot breath of the south windThe world is a million miles downLaid out in simplistic patchwork squaresDivided by silver threadsBarriers are nothingI can just float over them on a bed of cumulous cloudsSuddenly I am realizing that the great deciever's argument of boundariesIt doesn't mean a thing.I'm walking in the air.And the world somehow makes more sense now.
Ode for The Ninth DoctorI miss the lilt of your voice.I miss the feel of your sandpaper cheek.I miss when you laugh and say 'fantstic!' when something goes better than you hope.I miss knowing that you'll make everything ok.I miss your infectious smile.I miss your ever-present leather jacket.I miss you, Doctor....I miss you, Nine...
My Dear NevermindMy Dear Nevermind.You keep on lingering on the edges of consciousness. Please, come in and make yourself at home. The minor key symphonies are not meant to be dark and foreboding but mysterious and entrancing. The sung prayers and pleas are not as dark and terrifying as you think. In fact my soul just swims in them like I paint a layer of matte black over too bright gilt. Half of my tears, dearest Nevermind, are because I love to swim the black velvet halls. The other half are because you won't come in and hold my hand. Come in, come in, I've made suicide hot chocolate, death by satin, by decadence and woodwinds.Is that too morbid a metaphor? Please, don't leave. Let me explain.It is the death of forgetfulness, of freedom. It is the pinnacle of life in the nuptial bed that makes you dead to the world. It's death only in that it's life so vibrant what we have now is dead.I know, you need to leave. I am babbling and don't make sense, do I? Please. Wait.Let me play this song. It says