Chirality

I curse these possibilities
Of wandering from this side of the line
To the other
And all to find an answer
Within myself

Blessed is the man who may
Be a fool for all his life
Never questioned
Never burned
Never believed
Never spurned

The catastrophes have befallen us today
In that chemical reaction
That added acid to acid
That turned water to wine

Your falsities have changed me
Your chirality belying only the slightest possibility
Of a truth
I envy you, your ability to so quickly spin these tales
I envy you, your ability to release them into the air
Not holding, not grasping, not reaching for redemption
Just smiling and waving, smiling and braving

A/N: So, I think this one's meaning is a bit more obvious than some of my other recent works...and it was inspired by chemistry, of all things. And my love for the word "chirality", for no apparent reason. Unsure about the quality...there are parts I like, and parts I want to remove, but I never change my poetry, which is a really bad habit.

Tin Soldiers

There is a time when the others come out to play
Silvery eyeshadow over long lashes, sprinkling into
Rouge-red cheeks, and lips in various shades of orange.

They dance under nights of no moons, new moons, their moons. They dance as they own the world for that brief period of time, in which they can pop blackberries into their mouths and wonder.

There is a night when the others come out to dance
They never cease their imitations of the greats,
Moonwalking their way all the way up to the orb itself,
in a beam of light that comes to receive them.
That is all they could want in that moment, all they could need,
In a descending staircase of spiraling shadowlight.

Some legends suggest that the others are those of blue blood, who never minded a few stares, a few glances, a few gaping mouths in their direction, because they were only maniacs that didn’t belong in this world, and they never needed to.

There are other legends,
With the excessive explanations that most lies have,
When colors of stories aren’t enough to tell them,
When rusty red romances cannot satisfy anymore,
When beauty is seen only in the embracing of brazen cowards
Who can twirl the night away, only to realize that
They never observed the sun.

---

A/N: This was inspired by the story "Blackberry Nights", which is actually on Fictionpress, if you would like to look it up. I'm not sure what I think of it yet, I can't decide if it's edging towards a topic that is too cliche, or if it is incoherent enough to be different. Anyways, a (slightly belated) birthday present from me to you...

Blessing in Disguise

On a night like this
I can’t stay inside, so I run outdoors for
Hours at a time. Did you see the sunset last night?
In a haze of golden-orange-lovely glow, there is some meaning
In my words, as I whisper this loving message into your ear
And you turn to me and I see your blank eyes.
In that moment you are dead to me.

I saw a lily blossom, with rusty powder-dust falling from its petals, staining my fingers, and I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore.

There is a twinkling in the sky, but it is not the stars.
I look up, and I see your smiling face and mischievous eyes sparkling at me.
Where I saw only darkness before.
Where have you gone?

There is a beating, a tapping sound that is produced by melancholy faces staring, teeth chattering, they are looking at my face through hollowed cheeks and empty eyes.

For a moment I hear the whistle of the band leader
The twirl of the flag-twirlers
In the next moment I can only hear your scream.

---

A/N: Wow, I'm definitely on a roll here. As you can probably tell, I'm trying out a different style of writing here, and I think I really enjoy it. It pretty much ends up being wordblurt, but that's okay, because believe it or not, this poem does have some other meaning. Guess what it is! Also, if you thought this, you are correct, there is, in fact, a reference to a certain teacher in this poem...

Bye.

Flights of Fancy

Look at me when he is speaking to you
Masquerading as the follies of three dozen men
Lies you.

Where did you go last night? Were you on the pillow
Of another milkman, you shouldn’t listen to them
When they say
Run away with me.

I collect cards, and build fragile houses that you can
Blow over when you whistle
I could never whistle, didn’t you know?
Ace of diamonds is my favorite card
Perfectly symmetrical in the way that
Synchronized swimmers are.

I quote, unquote, famous men have said better things
Famous women have said worse things.
I sing, melodies enchanted, chirping crickets as accompaniment
I always liked them better than
Cockroaches anyways.

I had a dream once that there were a million cockroaches scurrying
Across my floor, and I couldn’t get out of bed.
I opened my eyes, and got up for some water.
There was a brittle crunch underneath my feet.

Beautiful fingers dance pirouettes across black and white
There are some people who are born without hands.
Perhaps they have very capable feet.

I spin sugar castles in the air by day, and eat them in the night
There are people hiding in the dark, with whom I share
These flights of fancy that mean so much.

A/N: Experimentation with a different style. Don't know what it means. Does it matter what it means?

Outrage of the Silent

Finally, a new poem:

There is a silence in the thickness of the air
It surrounds me, it envelopes me, it compresses me into
My very own puddle of, wait, where am I?
I can’t breathe.
Breathe.

(pause)
(rest)

There is a silence in the thickness of the sound
That surrounds
That pounds
That drowns

(pause)
(beat)

There is a silence in the clouds
Clouds of dragonflies that flutter and connect
To each other and to me
Unfurl my wings, their wings, your wings/there is silence again.

There is a sound.
There is an echo.
There is a shot.
There is a crack.
There is a break.

There is a silence in my heart
My soul
My arms
My legs
You are the silence in my chest
You are the silence in my stomach
My feet
My breast.

(pause)
(end)

A/N: This poem...I guess I kind of like it. When I read it again though, it seems like I am beating the reader over the head with its meaning. It's like...oh man, it's SO OBVIOUS. But it was also kind of experimental, so we'll see how it goes...