Saturday, December 1, 2012

I Wrote Two Poems Today!

You guys are getting so spoiled this week, with so many posts! I expect lots of Christmas presents in return.

But here are my poems. If you're quick, you might notice a... parallelism with a previous poem in one of them. Of course, now that I've pointed it out, your noticing is less impressive and I frown at you.



Winter Morning

Our breath, in fiery
Plumes exhaled,
Dancing through the morning,
Intermingling,
Daring to touch while we
Refuse to partake.
To be those plumes,
To be mist, so
Unafraid to caress, then
Part, no worse for wear.
The flames of sunrise,
Heating and illuminating,
Strike our cheeks and
Stain them a red
Beyond our humiliation
At our cowardice.


Take your forgiveness,
I'll keep my nonsense
Articulated through quotes
Just brushing the understanding
With tickling feathers.


Such Callous Decimation

The marble, scattered across the floor,
.....................................Shards sleeping with dust,
.....................Remembers the statue she once was -
.........Cold, immobile,
Immune.
Broken and alone, the only
..............Company her own ruined fragments,

When suddenly,
.............................................................................The faux sculptor appears
............................................................................To play in the wreckage.
How dare he -
Her demolition came at his hands.
........................It is hers now,
..............................................Hers alone.
.................He destroyed her,
.................His clumsy strokes
.............................................Cracking into her soul,
.................Creating fault lines
...................................That turned her
.................................................................From statue to dust.
She feels his fingers
...................Sifting,
...................Searching
..................................For pieces large enough to admire
...................................................And accidentally rub out of existence.

What's left of her
.................................Soul
...................................Wishes to shy away -
But her perfidious scraps
....................................................Strain to reach him
......................................................................To turn him into
....................................................................................................A sculptor worthy of
...............................................................................David.
It will not happen.
..............She ought to return
..............To her marble throne.


No matter how small

.....................................No matter how broken



...............................................It is better





..........................................................................................Than his pretension.