Poetry: Selected Poems (part 1)

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Poetry: Selected Poems (part 1)

Post by heinzs » Tue Mar 02, 2004 2:33 pm

All My Yesterdays

If I told you of all my yesterdays
The burning haze, unhappiness and sorrow
The darkness that surrounds my soul
Two halves, not whole, broken, beaten, bloodied
If I told you of the nightmare road
The weighty load of anguish and torment
The crimes I've done, the crimes I've seen
While in between the car and the fence
All innocence scraped away for good and ever
Lost forever in the twilight realm of Nod
Where is God who answers the prayers of the meek?
Still I seek to know why He has turned His eye
from me, a lie the believers repeat over and again
But I just can't win, I'm sucking wind
So tell me friend, the answer to my plea
If I told you of all my yesterdays
Would you be my friend tomorrow?

Cloak of Darkness

Wrapped in a cloak of darkness
he comes to me
late at night as I sleep
Enfolds me in his bitter embrace
and sends my mind out
on a journey to far off places
searching for the goodness and hope
the joys of yesterday
for today there is no hope, no joy
and goodness has become a myth,
a fairy tale, a children's story
another lie in the web of lies
woven around my soul
and leaving me here,
broken, bitter, without solace.
I cry when he leaves me,
not for the sake of the parting with him
but for the sake of the parting
from my childhood, my innocence,
all stolen away so soon
never again to return


standing at the edge of forever
gazing out at the blankness below
wondering how far and how long
it takes to go home again
but in taking that last step
i never realized that it would last
so very long
in weightlessness, paralyzed
silent screams tearing my throat
the blindness of foolishness
steals my sight with wide open eyes
staring down to the nothingness
that awaits at the end of the fall
in twelve years time
i have yet to hit the ground



cars speeding by
fleeting flashes of light
hungry eyes flitting
groping through muck
to live another day
in the shadows

harsh laughter
lashing out like a whip
weals reddening
upon a scarred soul
drive me back
to the shadows

all look the same
passing under
stuttering streetlamps
moving quickly and
leaving shadows

show silent movies
of fairytale lives
prince and princess
oblivious to the outcast
fading away into shadows

dirt grimed hands
ragged clothes
i walk among them but
do they see me?
or do i only exist
in shadows



long bladed hunting knife
bone handle
moving back and forth
across the whet stone

rain falling in the dark
dim reflections
in puddles near the verge
between the car and the fence

beer bottles lining
coffee table
men shouting at television sports
before the real games begin

blanket of snow covering
dirty streets
rusted wire fences protecting
a truck tire shop near a bridge

wind swept cliffs looming
over oceans
jagged rocks and seagulls
and the voice of an angel

flitting randomly through
my mind
remind me that all i am
is a jumbled collection


She Spins

The dancer spins her minuet
feet seeming to float above the floor
and the menfolk watch lustfully
their faces folded against one another
the dancer spins on unheedingly
her grace and beauty shine
like a diamond seen through
mid-day sunlight
and the men jostle for position
to get a better view
to watch the dancer spin and twist
and, perhaps, to take a turn with her
upon the great dance floor
But the dancer is oblivious to all
her eyes open, but seeing not the throng,
but something deep inside herself
and she feels not the hands of the men
upon her flame scarred flesh
nor the hot cruel kisses
nor the biting, grinding pressures
she is lost in another world
where men do not exist
where there is no such thing as
pain or rape
endlessly she spins


swirling clouds
like a nightshade
overtake my vision
coalesce within my mind
taking me back
to places i never wish
to see again

clotted blood marks the time
tick tocking endlessly
making trails of burnt flesh
seem like summer lilacs
blooming over the crypt
of my soul

take the antidote
bitter poison
days long past
night goes on
the light is leached out
and all that is left
is darkness

and the fluttering
that you hear
is my soul
bidding you


standing naked
in front of the full length mirror
as i have trained myself to do
these past two years
i hate looking
i hold my arms crossed
in front of my belly
hiding what is there
then the struggle begins
eyes closed my arms drop to my sides
i don't want to open them again
don't want to see
but that is part of the healing
so i make them open
and i look
now i make myself examine each of them
one by one
remembering when where and how
and who, always who
thighs and stomach crisscrossed
ugly ripplings glaring pink
lift each breast left then right
to expose the ones hidden there
make myself open my eyes again
pull my hair back from my forehead
trace the ugly lines down my cheek
and finally to examine
the most damaging of all
i begin to stare
into my own eyes

If You Were an Angel

If you were an angel
sent by the creator
to lead me back
upon the path of hope
to where i could find
love and life aplenty

if you were an angel
embodiment of all things
virtuous and right
bearer of the holy light
to keep me safe
on the journey

if you were an angel
why did you send me
to hell?

Packing for my Guilt Trip

'twas so kind of you
to book this adventure
for one as undeserving as i
how exciting to see
these old places i used to live
exotic names like remorse
stigma, and onus
now i sit on the edge of my bed
making a list of the things
i will need to take with me
i have my infamy and contrition
and two sets of iniquity
my extra pair of peccability
and my best self-reproach
a large bottle of malfeasance
(after all, it's a vacation!)
but i've decided to leave
my attrition at home
it won't be needed
since i will be staying
at a nice hotel called
the rueful inn
in a quiet seaside town
called compunction
i'll be sure to send you
a postcard


you look down upon me
with your disapproving frown
if i said i didn't mean it
i would be lying
and i suppose that hurts
almost as much

i am good at hurting others
perhaps you never knew
it started as a shield
and now it just comes naturally
so much so that
i can maim you without even trying

some truths are never meant to be spoken
some are true only as long as you believe
i can only know what i know
and guess at the rest
but that isn't good enough
so i quit the game before i lose it all

for a thousand souls
a hundred lost friends
a million apologies
will never be enough
when comes the time
to clean up the blood

White Owl

The white owl hovers above the earth
its one red eye glowing
sometimes dim and sometimes bright
it does lazy circles
up and down skimming the ground
raking it with its razor claws
the earth trembles at its touch
shaking with the anticipated pain
the owl's eye glows in the darkness
sometimes bright sometimes dim
now higher now lower
touching on the hills and valleys
leaving trails of burnt earth behind
the earth shakes and moans out its pain
as the white owl floats and behind the owl
maniacal laughter
a faceless demon in the dark
controlling the owl's movement
telling it where to land
when to fly again
making its searing red eye
grow bright and then dim
smoke fills the world
as the white owl flies
the earth convulses in agony
destruction and torment
left in its wake
and as the white owl flies
its body shortens slowly
each time the eye glows bright
and the earth beneath it shudders
(the man puts out the cigar
on her chest
and leaves her to her pain
and weeping)

Don't Come Knocking

I hear you out there
I feel you close again
I hate you, you know that
there was a time I would have embraced you
when I actively sought you out
but not now, you have no business here
this is my life and you can't take it
so put your scythe back over your shoulder
wrap your cloak about your skeleton body
pull that hood back over your skull face
and turn back the way you came
don't come knocking on my door
it is closed to you

Street Smart Chylde

Street smart chylde
glowing in your self absorption
ignoring the world
that has cast you adrift
upon the cold waters of civilization.
You take what you can
leaving little behind
of the stuff that others
have left behind, unwanted,
and you call it good.

Street wise youth
hustling and bustling
through the lanes and the avenues.
Guys making eyes
howling wolves
grinning toothily and staring
with red rimmed eyes.
You get what they pay for,
what they can't get at home,
and you call it life.

Street strung girl
lying by the river
clothing in disarray
from the revelry of the night.
How can you go on
making light of your horror
and the tepid draught of humiliation
that you must drink every night?

Street stung woman-child
crying alone and hopeless
when no one else can see or hear.
Abandoned, lonely, life in ruins
as you eke out your meager existence
dreaming of the castles
and the handsome prince
who will take you away from
the rotting stench of yourself.

Street scarred soul
wishing for redemption
knowing deep down inside
that it is never going to come.
You just go on
playing out your role
smiling and laughing when required
and writhing in the turmoil
of your mind.

Will you ever find
a way out of this maze
that you have created for yourself?
Do you have the strength of will
to set yourself free
from yourself?
Last edited by heinzs on Fri Mar 05, 2004 11:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
An' it harm none, do what ye will. Blessed Be.
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Post by Ven » Fri Mar 05, 2004 3:42 pm

Cloak of Darkness
11th line 5th word. Should there be an apostrophy in "childrens" ?

10th line 1st words can't find a definition for the word weals. Should it be welts ?

3rd stanza 3rd word should be "antidote"

Packing for my Guilt Trip
1st line 1st word should be "t'was"
13th line 5th word can't find a definition for "peccability"

"Forever is short thought when your skipping this close to the edge".


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Post by The Ravyn » Fri Mar 05, 2004 10:26 pm

weal [n] a raised mark on the skin (as produced by the blow of a whip); characteristic of many allergic reactions

Synonyms: wale, welt, wheal

See Also: harm, hurt, injury, trauma

\Weal\, n.
The mark of a stripe. See {Wale}.


\Pec`ca*bil"i*ty\, n. The state or quality of being peccable; lability to sin.

yes t'was and childrens' ... i'm horrible with punctuation. thanks ven!
take my hand if you don't know where you're goin' ... i'll understand .... i've lost the way myself ...
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Post by heinzs » Fri Mar 05, 2004 11:51 pm

Actually it is 'twas.

'twas ( P ) Pronunciation Key (twz, twz, twz when unstressed)

Contraction of it was.

I have made the above corrections in the text.

An' it harm none, do what ye will. Blessed Be.
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