Poetry

[Al Truest]

Waiting for Spring

Stream corridors of hemlock wear the powdered remnants of snow
like tattered wigs
The shaded ravines belie the sanctity
Norway Spruce along the trails are filled with sparse birdsong
Yet amid the serenity and calm
Only the melody of your voice resurrects me there

[tannis]

THE YEAR OF THE INSANE
For Anne...

December?
The month is cursed.
It is full of accidents.
It does not see the immaculate con.
The witches bear Greek gifts.
Do not fly from the old year
lest you veer off the road.
Do not cleave cloves or the devil will root.
And when you burn your tree
throw your star onto the fire
and watch it turn
to rats.

Do not trust January
except when your door has charms,
warding off the evil eye.
Do not wash goblet or flute
unless there is a cold damp light,
like the dead set glare on roadkill.
A blackout in this month
begets madness
like Satan entering a monastery.

February?
Cut,
give up your dead locks.
Hair is too knowing,
nothing is allowed to remember,
all is allowed to deny.
Because nothing remembers
you may be tempted by St. Valentine
but beware,
in February St. Valentine
pierces the rose.
Beware of the harlot,
she will go mad.
Don't harm the red robin
because he is the sixth sacred wound
that has swallowed God's blood.

Tsunamis mean March.
The tiger will wave,
and the all-seeing eye will rise like jellyfish.
There will be rivers of blood and sweat
so have some tears for your uncle.
A blackout in this month stills the ocean.
Therefore, old maidens say:
Let the wine of March shine on my neighbour,
but let the dregs of January drown on my foe.
However, if you go to a party
dressed as the Sacred Heart
you will be crucified till dead by sunset.

During the rainstorms of April
the bull rises from the sea
and rocks its horns —
courting your leap —
when you dive the Minotaur
strikes the crown.
So take a fly-drive,
rock your body,
and give milk to crowns.

May?
On May Day
pulp fiction and play the fool.
Give skins to snakes and boil blood
and give the blood to the dusk
so that the dawn may melt it
and bring you birdsong.
For many nights Sleep has been
lying with Death.
After that Sleep dreams,
but Death never rests, never rests.

June and July?
These are the months
we call Evil Water.
Flies gather in the house of love but the rose
opens itself to the lotus.

Be still in August
And know.
Let your dread tremble on the page.
However, pluck the rose
and ring out its glory.
The rose is the grail of Christ.
Watch out when snapping delusions
or you will behead the Medusa.

Look for the gods in September,
begin in the lavatory
flushing offerings down the toilet bowl.
Put four horse chestnuts on a moonlit ledge
and by the wane the spider's web
will give up the loom of lies.
Do not sow in September
or you will wake up a worm in mud.

If someone cracks in October
do not lie in your bed for three days
or you too will spill the salt.
Also do not cross wrath with pride
for the devil will enter your hybrid
like canker.

November?
Move,
leave the line and run for the hills.
And where the royal road shears
howl out your angry name —
Oedipus, Oedipus, Oedipus
the Sphinx awaits
and life is full of bleached bones
and unsolved riddles.

[Adena]

Trainwreck

You are heading off the rails.
Your wheels are spinning out.
The driver in your head has sent the avalanche on its way.
Foolish! Foolish!
sings the horn
as you career faster
towards your doom.

Long ago
a blameless man got on board.
He held the hand of a young, smiling girl.
And a woman walked behind them - watching every step as it came.
All of them bought their tickets
for a ride to the edge of nowhere.
They paid their dues. But you could never understand.
The joy that they held within.
The joy that you were denied.
The connection that drove them to stay together.
And so the driver of that train
(the one that's in your head)
stopped watching the track.
She let bats into her belfry
and couldn't go back.
She still hasn't seen.
Her world's about to crack.

And now
the passengers look on in horror.
'Look,' they say, 'look at what is coming.'
But the girl who sits in the front carriage
her hair still blowing in the wind
will take the full force of the crash.
And the blameless man who sits beside her
and yet is not all there
must watch her destruction.
And the woman who watches
will be sitting behind.
She knows what is coming.
She knows the fate
to which her friends are consigned.
It sends shivers down her spine.

[Adena]

Beautiful

Does it have to be steel?
Does it have to be april rain?
Does it have to be tears?
Inside of me it's all the same
My mother says she hates my sister
My father's turning in his grave
It doesn't get any easier
Why does suicide seem great?
She sent more words today
Trying to keep me up
I want to scream it in her ears
I think I want to cut
The child in me is crying
I drive the stake into her heart
I pray that it will kill me
Dying is an art.

[Adena]

Stepping Out

wipe the powder off her face
she could be beautiful
gently hug away her frown
she could enchant you too
look upon her sapphire gaze
she might be someone else
softly touch her silky hair
she could only be herself!

[Adena]

Two
for P.

Two people
Two lives
Entwined now into one.

Two stories
Two truths
Hidden from the sun.

Two women
Both grieve
They speak within these walls.

Two survivours
Speak out
Set sail for smiling shores.

(if only I wasn't too shy to tell you...)

[Adena]

The Story

The shorter the skirts
the more we sigh
you and I.

The more they get hurt
the more we vow
to try.

The more I let go
the more I start
to cry.

The more that you know
the less I want
to die.

When I break free
I seem to breathe
again.

As it unwinds
this time I do not
pretend.

The caged bird sings
until the end.

And now I see I have found a mother.
A gentle woman like no other.
This I can comprehend.

[Adena]

To Their God

I don't want to be your servant
Nor remember that last night
I don't want to read your bloody bible
I simply want to end this fight

According to your word I should be
stoned to death, I should have
married him, or faced the shame
of life alone forever.

Your word should never be believed.
Never.

[Adena]

Awakening

Like a flower
I bloom.
Opening my petals to the sun.
Dancing with the birds
to their soft morning song.
At one with nature.

[Adena]

This is an open building
We never thought to close the door
Just come on in, nobody cares
There's always room for many more
Treat the place just how you like
We're far too drained to care
Bring in yer dogs, bring in yer lice
Bring in yer deep, insane despair.

[tannis]

the holy woman
on the picadilly line

kind woman
i still remember
your kind words
spoken
as you left
the underground

i had no idea
i was being watched
by your kind eyes
as i read my book
hanging
on the picadilly line

kind woman
i so treasure
your hushed whisper
as the doors opened
on green park:

"i know
you are a quiet person
but i just want to say
you have beautiful hands"

kind woman
your beautiful words
are still beautiful
untarnished by time
while my hands
have moved on

and the ring i wore
the crucified lord
now lies
in the river jordan

[Al Truest]

Old People

Aren't they disgusting...
Young people get so much more information these days
and see the underbelly of life so much more.

Yeah the underbelly...
and you know what this is right?...
old people -
who have the nerve to act like someone they shouldn't be....
Those old bastards.
It is like lifting that large stone in the garden
to watch all the wriggling bugs.
Yeah old people are wriggling bugs.
They should know better...
than to say or feel or do anything.
STFU old man!...you're worthless.
Don't defile the young pretty folks by caring about them.
You sicken me.
You old fool...


*********************


Predator

the precocious baby killdeer
has hit the ground running
its mother feigning injury
to draw me away
but in abandoning her young
in this devious game
her young one is left to fend
from the real danger that is her

the precocious baby killdeer
has hit the ground running
bright eyed and innocent
its mother now the hawk
who would swoop down
and rob her of her flight

*************************


Petty

Theft

now --see-- here is the

black and white
you may dance
and sing
and play loud music


- but instead

please -

embrace your true role;
you are not a part of their joy -
and in your solitude you bemoan your lot
own it
it is yours alone
like a petty thief turned larcenous
stealing the flight and life you could not have
will you drown those who would try to save you
in your selfish and flailing distress...


*************************************


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[Adena]

Dear Annie

I was twelve when you first came
You snatched my life, you stole my name
You made me play your twisted game
And turned my feelings into dust

You consorted with the devil first
It sapped your rising, swelling thirst
That final time, it was the worst
You changed my life, you killed my trust

And when I fell in love at last
You told me it had come too fast
You made my life just like my past
You turned my love into your lust

Today I sit without a friend
And watch my life as you descend
I wish that I could make it end
I will move on. I must.

[Al Truest]

It is good to read your efforts again Cathy. Very good indeed.

[Al Truest]

Twisted words
twisted world
you can deceive yourself
and everyone else
but me

did you not recognize
the 'please' in my plea
to not live so vicariously
do I forget you maligning me
to the onewho'really'cared
and to those that know no better
than your twisted words

trickery and misdirection
entitlemenmt and rationalization
a campaign of lies

yes you suceeded in tarnishing me
and all your cyber friends only know your facade
and while I know my lot and my fate
you continue to dig the same rut
but again

- please -

do not hurt her again

you can convince everyone but me
my heart is clean