I'm sitting in my four walled room
They're closing in, like an ancient tomb
I feel like I'm wasting time for two
When all I want is me and you
Just some feelings rotting in the back of my brain.
The Piper In the village of Hamelin, along the great river Wesser; the people had a problem. A plague of vermin assaults the village night and day. The Mayor of the city called far and wide for exterminators, traps and cats. But the traps had failed, the cats had died and the exterminators left defeated. Then one day, by chance, a man dressed in gaily colored robes appeared.
He pranced and skipped up the thoroughfare as he played upon his flute. As he passed the rustic homes and village shop, the villager’s ears perked up. Soon a small entourage began to follow him as he made his way through town. He came to a stop outside of town hall and danced and played some more. The Mayor, seeing a large crowd gathered outside, frantically scrambles down the stairs and outside.
“Dear people of Hamelin, what is going on?” the Mayor calls out to the crowd. A voice as crisp as mountain air answers back, “W
The SaintThere was a village by a brook at the edge of a lush mountain where an elderly monk lived. He had come to the village many years ago after traveling all across the land. He built a small cottage near the summit of the mountain to give travelers a place to stay. Every morning the monk would head down into the village to hold services for the villagers. After a few months, the villagers had come to love him.
One day, late into spring, a villager went missing on the mountain. He was a trader making his way to the neighboring village on the other side of the mountain. The path over the mountain wasn’t incredibly difficult, but when the rains came the path became slick and treacherous. The villagers called upon the monk to help them search. Over several days they searched all over the mountain but to no avail. Saddened by the loss, the village held a small service in his memory.
A few months later a small family met its fate
UntitledI want to love someone with more than just my heart,
With more than just my soul.
I want to feel the warmth of their skin on mine,
The radiance of their loving eyes.
When the storm comes, they would be my sunlight,
Driving away the fear and darkness.
At night, I want to laugh and cry together,
Read and sing and love.
I want bonds deeper than friendship, than family.
I want to remember what it means to be human,
Rather than the machine that I am now.
When that end finally comes, I want to remember every second shared, every touch and kiss.
As time chimes its final tone,
I want to love you all over again.
The Little Match Girl
Winter came swift and hard. Heavy tufts of snow fell upon the sleepy village in the dark stillness of night. The only light was the flickering moon light that made its way through the falling snow. As morning crept up from the dark abyss behind the mountains, a dim light grew in the village square. Soon a towering inferno billowed over the village. There was shouting and screams as the villagers tried to put the fire out. As the stable burned the neighing and whinnying of horses cried out over the crackling blaze.
As the sun crested the mountains, the fire finally subsided to cinders. Although the villagers managed to defeat the flames, several of the horses had perished. Several of the men who had fought the fire sat in the snow, breathing heavy, and the steam of their breath rising as fog in the sunlight. “It’s the third place this month,” one man said wiping sweat from his brow. The man standing next to him shakes his h
HelmsmanFrom the blackest pits
The vilest of realms
In the mind it sits,
The master of helms.
It sets the due course
Towards the roughest seas
Winds so cold and hoarse
Waters never sitting at ease.
Through the storm, an island
So battered by the storms
Where God's only demand
Is to feed the lonely worms.
So here it's come to pass
The few, lonely and lost
Pray in silence, the mass
Victims of the vilest cost.
Sad WordsShe's holding her breath
Lost in her thoughts,
As the skies cry out
She's torn up with doubt.
He's back at the house
Penning those sad words,
He writes in red pen
So the words burn true.
And she's calling his phone
He has nowhere to go
The candles been burning
On both ends, wheels turning
Down the road,
The only light is the moon.
She sings their favorite tune,
He's been hurting all along.
From the first time they met.
She never felt the same
She was sick of the game.
He was running away
From those awful mistakes
And he bore battle scars
Left behind from his past.
Like a supernova
A blast of color and flame
They came together as one.
But love never burns tame.
She got the news,
Two days after he left
There was an accident,
Down the road from her house
In her heart she knew it,
Never thought he'd do it,
Leave her all alone
Just leave her all alone.
Night ThoughtsShe takes a breath,
Draws it in slow.
Savors the taste of another night
Exhales the words of a wasted fight.
In her hand is a cigarette
Burning, trying to forget.
It burns, but never consumes
The memory that she's come to fear.
Those words echo in her ear
Hands clenched tight by her side.
Smoke rising towards cloudless sky
Wondering why she ever thought to try.
MorningShe walked out into the yard, hair trailing behind her. Damp morning air clinging to it like a blanket. Light mist wafts up from the grass. A single street lamp illuminates the lifeless road before her. Every step she takes sounds hollow and cold. The ebony sky begins to lighten as morning slowly crawls over the horizon. The woman looks to her left; a sprinkler kicks on in the neighbor's yard. Jets of crystal clear water scatter across the yard. The silence of the morning slowly breaks as the world around her begins to awaken. She lets out a small yawn. The sound is soft and subtle, carried away in the early morning breeze. A small, dainty hand wipes the remnants of sleep from her pale green eyes. She turns to head back inside as the first rays of daylight breach the darkness. As she reaches the steps, she turns and looks back across the yard. Before her lies the beginning of a beautiful day and a soft smile spreads across her face.
HoursTwelve. Beginning, end.
Both zero and twenty four.
Watching the hours bend
As I'm left waiting...
A chime in the distance,
Fragments of hours gone by.
Holding out for reassurance,
Another memory of a night sky.
Hands moving across the surface
Like lovers caught in the act.
Grabbing on to shorten the distance,
Trying to fix a heart that's cracked.
Cold. Chilled by the morning air
A bleak glimpse of the coming dawn.
Frosty breath, lifting without care
Floating, till it's finally gone.
EmpyreanMomma said to never marry an astronaut,
they will always prefer the twinkling starlight
to the light in your eyes.
They'll only end up in ships that float
aimlessly in zero gravity and you will not be there.
Momma said to never marry an astronaut.
You will stand firmly on the earth,
clutching the ground and knowing
they will always prefer the twinkling starlight.
Planets will fracture and stars will collapse
long before he recognizes he can travel
to the light in your eyes.
Just A Teenage TearIt's just a teenage tear, it will dry
Sorry, but I think I'm going down
No apologies are necessary
I can tell you don't want me around
It's just another day it will pass
The sun will not wait for me to change
I will be easily replaced in your heart
Now doesn't that seem ever so strange
It's just a lonely world I live in
Not even close to the one where I was raised
At what point did I become so lost?
And how long do I wait to be saved?
It's just a teenage heart that has broke
But this time I am afraid it is mine
It now only exists in pieces
Too many to piece back together this time
Valentineroses have thorns
and violets turn brown,
hearts get torn
and ships go down
apples go rotton,
strings will break,
words are forgotten-
we make mistakes
sunrise to sunset,
twilight to dawn,
we cannot stop it-
life goes on
smiles are sticky,
sunshine can burn,
love can be tricky-
some never learn
Roses you hand-picked
Decay into ground,
None of its perfect-
Make me feel sick,
Once out of batteries
youre just a dick
meaning is twisted,
trust is used,
humans are flawed,
beauty is pain,
self is a god,
my loss is your gain
love cant be trusted
for action we lusted
and sealed our fate...
I guess by all this, what Im trying to say
is Im thinking of you on this Valentines day
Ive no perfumed hearts and no roses of white-
no, I wrote you a valentine
Inflation DayI walked into my room
Pulled out some loose clothing to wear
Then I went into my closet
And pulled out a large tank of air.
I stuck the hose in my bellybutton
I said "This is going to be great!"
I went to the airtank
And turned the knob up to eight.
I felt the air enter my body
I had hoped it would soon
That's when it actually happened
I was inflating like a balloon!
My belly was getting rounder
I poked it once or twice
My whole body was getting enormous
The feeling was very nice.
However, I was quickly losing mobility
I was bigger in width than height
Soon, I was feeling lots of pressure
And my belly feels really tight.
I tried to pull the hose out
Unfortunately, it was stuck
And now I can't move to reach the airtank
Well great, just my luck....
The expanding feeling is just too great
I don't really think I want to stop....
However, I'm starting to feel pretty full
And now I think I'm going to pop!!!!
GothicWater, fire, earth, and air,
Four elements in a dragons lair.
Take a lock of your lovers hair,
And brew a potion to show you care.
In the distance, armor is raddlin
To show that knights have horses theyre straddlin
Take your cape, and ride the sky,
To avoid the ways to die.
In the darkness of the night,
Hide away from the enemies light.
SEXLovers do it.
People abuse it.
Porn improves it.
Teens try it.
Rapists force it.
Hookers sell it.
Brothels run it.
The horny want it.
And human survival relies on it.
The Three Dimensions of YouAlthough I am not a wise man
Let it be known that I do have the privilege to see
Something that you can not
The beauty of your face three-dimensionally
Artists put down your brushes
Your strokes can't do justice to the contours of her frame
And poets put down your pen
No verse could describe the light that shines behind her name
Although I am not a wise man
Let it be said that I do have the privilege to see
Your beauty as it outruns time
With each passing year in three hundred and sixty degrees
Artists stop mixing your oils
No colour will come close to matching the shades of her skin
And poets close your note books
As to describe her eyes you would not know where to begin
Although I am not a wise man
Let me praise God that I do have the privilege to hear
Something that you do not
That is your voice resonating gently in my ear
I am an artist, a poet
Guiding images and words to creation from conception
Yet in her soul, body and mind
I have discovered three indefinable dimensions
Crawling in my forlorn appearance
I hide my soul behind these tattered wings
Tattered and broken as they are
Plucked of light, stained in tears and blood.
In quiet despair upon the cold earth
Smeared in dirt I crouch upon my weary knees
And clutched timidly between my fingers
Rests one last jewel of Hope.
A single unblemished plume plucked
From the silver light of dawn
A feathered ray of light from beyond
To illuminate the void that has me bound.
This precious barb of silk
Once lost as I was and forgotten
Blazes now to immerse me in radiant bliss
To wash away the pain, draw me from the abyss.
So now I fade away…
My tender flesh removed
My shattered wings released
My inner light unsheathed… escapes.
(c)2004 Joseph Palladino