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
LegendIn its shadow burns a memory,
Distant and nearly forgotten.
And every loss, every body to bury,
Our cities now lost; dead and rotten.
And yet it burns, this gilded memory,
Kindling the flames of conflict and love.
Reaching across the distant century,
The ire of War bears down from above.
Across the stars our destiny lies.
Through the dark below, amongst wolves.
We've finally awoken to darkened skies,
As thunder cracks from falling hooves.
FacesVoices in the dark, calling my name.
Rising like cricket song, burning like a flame.
Can't you hear them? Their ill-gotten song,
Born from souls of malice, pushing me along.
Every step echoes, down this dreary hall.
Painted faces frown, from perches on the wall.
I can't see their faces, watching through the night,
Just beyond the hedges, always out of sight.
Bolts of light flash, from every passing car.
The chorus is growing, I know they can't be far.
Laying on the ground by a cold, blackened fire
A broken, souless corpse; a victim of their ire.
As the sun begins to rise, the sky burns bloody red.
Pushing away this feeling of dark, swirling dread.
But as I make my leave, I fear for my life,
Staring back from the mirror, my face and bloody knife.
DreamingDream with me, if only for a while,
Of sunlight, dancing naked in the breeze
Or mourning flowers, searching for their smile.
Dream with me, if only you would, please.
I'm sorry I wasn't there at the end,
As you slipped away in that hospital bed.
And I'd give everything just to spend
One last hour, to take back what I said.
That light is coming, I hear it in their cries
Burning like a sunset, so warm and bright.
I see every memory pouring from their eyes.
So please dream with me, if for only one last night.
Yellow RibbonsI carry a ribbon in my pocket for those who can't stand tall,
For those sitting in the rain just waiting for the fall.
I carry with me a lifeline to help drag you back to shore
All I need from you is to give your faith once more.
As you wipe away your tears with a bottle and a cup
The world becomes a blur so you can't tell which way is up.
And as you leave your feet, the world seems so small
And every word you say is a battle, one against all.
You had your hopes and dreams now their bitter and old,
And the warmth you felt inside is now dead and cold.
The gleam of indifferent steel, as you contemplate suicide
Just know I'm here beside you with hope our hearts collide.
I carry in my hand a flower so stark and milky white.
Tears so cold and lonely help to pass away the night.
Upon the ground I place, this flower on your grave,
If only we could have known, this life we should have saved.
LullabyCan you write me a lullaby to sing me to sleep?
I'll wait in blissful silence, not making a preep.
It'll start off slow and crescendo through the night,
And end after daybreak, as we watch the morning light.
We'll dance in our dreams, as the notes carry us along,
Merrily we'll lift our voices, drunk on another love song.
But when the morning comes the night ends,
And the parting of those dear old friends.
With every step your mind quakes,
And with every beat your heart aches.
And the melody starts coming on strong,
And you can't help to hum along.
Can you write me a lullaby?
So I'll remember you when we say goodbye.
Now wipe those tears from those dreary eyes,
And smile for me, as the sun begins to rise.
Words UnsaidSilent like a long goodbye,
Lonely like the darkest night,
Empty as the years gone by,
Drinking dreams till morning light.
These words ring inside my head,
Like church bells for the unsung.
And from my pen, these words bled
To find a grave on my tounge.
A note sits on my dresser,
Yellowed from the march of time.
Its lines are my confessor
To you-- it's my only crime.
EnigmaAs I peer through the darkness, you are the light
Like a fire that stretches towards the sky.
You're always out of reach, but in my sight
I'll never stop trying till the day I die.
You're something like an enigma my dear
One that someday I hope to solve.
And through eyes clouded, now clear
I begin anew, with strengthened resolve.
Snapshot Story: BetrayalThe burning light of the street lights pushes back the entrenched darkness that lay over the radiant beauty of the flower garden. A warm summer breeze blows, causing the flowers to dance. Two women walk through the well-worn path between two large rose bushes. The further they walk the more animated and tense their voices become.
“Damn it Amelia, you just don’t get it do you!” The shorter woman yells her face flush with anger. Her dark hair bobbing as she throws her head about. “What did you expect Emmy? Was I just supposed to let you go wild?!” Amelia yells back. “I’m not a child anymore, stop calling me ‘Emmy’,” Amelia lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Emily, you’re my kid sister, I got to…” “No, you don’t,” Emily yells tears welling up in her eyes. Off in the distance, a clap of thunder echoes.
The two women stand in silence, glaring at each other. “Come on let’s head back
The Swinging GirlAnother summer has come and gone, and a cold autumn wind blows across the silent, windswept field. In the field stands an old, weathered oak. The silent sentry grimaces as it is battered by the cold winds. Several of the leaves fall as the oak readies for a winter slumber. From the tangle of branches hangs an old wooden swing. A young girl sits in silence as she watches the crimson sun fade behind the distant mountains. In the distance, her mother watches from the kitchen of the small cottage that dots the landscape.
Beside the tree sits a tombstone; a small mound of fresh dirt lies beside it. The harsh winds die down as her mother calls out. “Come in dear, it’s time to go,” The girl slowly raises, her head hanging low. As she moves past the swing, it begins to move. Hearing the creaking branches, the girl turns back once, a single tear trickling down her cheek.
As she walks back, the sun gives a final wink before fading into twilight. A gentle breeze plays with the e
O Thanatos Ki O ErotasΟ Θάνατος Κι Ο Έρωτας
Τραγούδησα τον Χάροντα,
μα ο Διγενής κοιμάται,
Τραγούδησα τη φλόγα του,
μα Αυτός δε με λυπάται.
Ο Θάνατος κι ο Έρωτας
με σπέρνουν, με θερίζουν!!!
Ο Θάνατος κι ο Έρωτας
στα αυτιά μ
One Special Night
The winter´s night was crisp and clear,
the heaven full of stars
and all the ones who saw the signs,
came there from near and far.
They followed one bright shining star,
to a place called Bethlehem.
To a stable on the edge of town
and Joseph beckoned them in.
"Look!" He cried with tears in his eyes.
"Mary´s had a child."
"He´s wonderful, so precious. Stay
and behold him for a while."
"He will grow to be a good man,
clever, wise and mild."
"He´ll teach the world about love and
to have faith in all mankind."
Joseph smiled as his head did nod
and this he also said,
"This child is someone special,
for he was sent to us from God."
Poetry by Suzan
Bushels of GreenThe day we start remembering
Is the day we grow old
For wisdom takes
The years we did not know
Breath of beasts and bushels green
Coincide to mingled life
With its entire strife
Running feet with nails bite
Rocks of smoothened water
Wash the time
In tears of fear and laughter
Oculus and hearing cue
Task the dullards to record
For without them
The mind cannot explore
Hands of fists and open palms
Escape with nothing held
Behaves to strip the spelled
The day we start remembering
Is the day forgotten
And never attained
For already tomorrow is then
Lungs to scream a whispered cry
Trees that speak like us
With repetition's lust
Not the empty shade of veil
To cover dead in sailing ships
Off and gone
Like winds off of our lips
Kimberlite as cool as bones
Deposits lightened by
No force we abled understand
To sleep where we can lie
Clouds of rain of wet or shadow
Hang to solve the heat of morn
But so darken
And make retrospect reborn
The day we start re
Christmas LightsTwilight moments between night and day
Are quiet and cold in winter's grasp
In suburban solitude I stroll
On the frigid eve of Christmas day
That tranquil silence and touch of frost
Is what drew me from within my home
Introspection presses upon me
With the urgency of a soft breeze
So rare an occasion has pavement
Seemed inviting upon which to tread
Before long all that lights my pathway
Are street lamps and tacky Christmas lights
What pathetic form of vanity
Would compel a family to throw
A tasteless assortment of light bulbs
On their home in so-called Christmas cheer?
I slow down and linger near the house
Displaying the most exuberance
A quick glimpse through the window reveals
A tree heavily decorated
Placed next to the glass for all to see
Are they so vain that they would indulge
What has become a stereotype
Of this nation's seasonal culture?
Continuing on my night saunter
I stare down the rod ahead of me
Instead of the ornate vanity
With which these strangers strike my senses
Before the Fallen BattlefieldBefore my spears can make a shield
Before my swords can make a mace
Let them be my pens
Of a future battle grave
Before my cinders make a smoke
Before my char turns dust in wind
Let it be my fire
On a fuel of all my sin
Before my globes turn black obscure
Before my candles blackened turn
Let them shine a way
What left I must discern
Before my mount has slung its knee
Before my arm has unslung free
Let it prophesize
Where fallen I will be
Before my end arrives in force
Before my tale arrives in blur
Let it be mine kept
Until my last sojourn
How to be happy.Wash away the webs,
clean your wounds,
and whiten your smile.
Break your mirrors,
dump the contents of your makeup drawer,
and dry your face of your tears.
Burn away the wax inside of you,
listen to the gales of the wind god,
breathe deeply and dispel your worries,
and understand that it could always be worst.
Understand that there are people there for you,
and they always will be.
X-Mas Epigram. The winter solstice was transformed into a celebration of the birth of Jesus,
Who metamorphosized into a fat old elf giving extravagant gifts to please us.
Now all that was once before has become simply a measure of the economy;
Maxed out credit cards and peptic ulcers due to anxiety and lack of gastronomy.
Lastly, we have to grin and bear the dirge of yet another Auld Lang Syne.
Enjoy the respite while you may: Looming near is Saint Valentine.
The Pencil Pushin' PunkThe Pencil Pushin' Punk... By David Nicholas
In place of clanging weights of iron and steel
I chose to crunch numbers; I found that ideal
Could’ve been a contender, living like a monk
Yet I learned for a life as a pencil pushin’ punk.
Debits and credits rule me; I pray and swear fealty
To the GAAPs and to the double-entry deity
You may argue this foundation learning is junk
But that’s the life I chose as a pencil pushin’ punk.
Cash flows, profits, loss and financial positions
Are such statements I create off my own volition
Informs the world to tell the bulls from the skunks
A duty I’ll handle as a pencil pushin’ punk.
Ratios probe further, their sole aim to expose
One might say it’s the business blow-by-blows
Gives insight to practices that are prime or junk
All provided of course by the pencil pushin’ punk.
It’s the godsend granted to execs ‘round the world
To reach for the stars, or prepare for downward swirl
Pride Cometh...Dear Ariane, listen to me
Venture not to the wine-dark sea
Brave men have reaped calamity
Like kinsmen of the gallows tree
Not even the kraken of old
Dares disturb those waters cold
Plumes of breath, a halo you wear
A smirk of zeal, a lusty air
Defying me, I know that stare
So to my home I shall repair
Know this: beware the sullen ides
Summoning forth the meanest tides
My dearest Uncle, please don't jest
You fear that I will fail the test
I know you only want the best
Take heart and find yourself some rest
So be assured that come the morn,
That I'll return; no need to mourn
The legends say they found her there
Cold and waxen, with snow-white hair
Her Uncle cried in black despair
"She trod into the devil's lair!"
Till the end of eternity
Adrift upon a wine-dark sea