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March 2nd, 2004
09:28 pm - Hold on to him
"Hold on to him," she said, "with every fiber of your being."
I shall not shrink from such advice,
For I've listened to the unwise council of misinformed fools in the past,
and now, at long last,
I hear a clear voice.
The trials and tribulations be all necassary, think I
To justify within us what we know is wholly right.
To give us material proof on this mortal plane,
That love does flow, deep and strong.
Now our souls remain e'er intertwined,
And nought could break them apart.
Far and away from the slings and arrows
Do we retreat to our peace.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankhappy.gif) grateful
Current Music: REM - Nightswimming
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January 7th, 2004
04:18 pm - a classic fav
In the Beyond
16.12.02 3:38 p.m. (Monday)
I am resting now,
You've got no need to worry.
I'm quite happy where I am now,
It's quiet with soft light.
I can fly when the whim takes me,
And I can look at your face whene'er I wish,
Though I may not speak to you.
If you can feel that warm breeze,
I'm running my fingers through your hair.
And if you hear the birds singing,
I'm laughing at your joke.
And when you feel the rain,
I'm trying to heal your wounds.
When you see the sunshine upon soft snow in the winter air,
That's me.
Author's Note: This one poem went over really big when I first distributed it, so I thought I'd post it again here. It's a softer look at death (potentially suicide). I wrote it to counter my teen angst poetry about death, disease, and dying.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankitten.gif) okay
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04:17 pm - borrowed work from John Donne
Holy Sonnet 10
John Donne
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, the from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and souls' delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost thou with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
A Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Current Mood: optimistic
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04:02 pm - more red notebook
Deceiver
1.7.03 2:59 p.m. (Tuesday)
I've got nought to give
Save what you see before you.
Not enough to tantalize
The most diehard Spartan.
And there you stand,
Insolent and motionless,
Unable to explain your own attraction.
The game is played most
Often out of your favor.
And that does not seem to
Set you off from your stance.
I have only the energy to pity you.
But I'll refrain from calling you foolish.
You will see only what you wish to see in my soul,
And what you long to see in my eyes.
So how can I trust your opinion?
Is it valid?
Part of me wouldn't think so--
Another half clawing at the belief.
Current Mood: hopeful
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04:01 pm - red notebook poem
A Black Night
1.6.03 6:07 p.m.
I've never really liked--
This being that I am.
So much like a dead-end street,
Littered with the garbage of past generations.
So dark and forboding--
Shattered glass upon the ground.
Dim streetlights struggle to illuminate allways of the mind.
No sucssess there.
I can see you out of the corner of my eye
Far placed from where you should be.
Leave and take your good health with you.
Sickness lurks here--
Pollutes the air and makes it think.
Screams of the misunderstood echo down the street,
Strangers dart in and out of darkness.
And there you stand.
I can't tell if it's your ignorance,
Or your stubbornness,
That holds you to that spot.
You've admitted to your surroundings,
That much is clear.
Now you only hope to understand them.
It is a mistake in trying.
There's too muc here--
Perhaps too little--
For a mind like yours to grasp.
And even a heart such as yours,
Could not flood this dark world with light.
But I see you,
And you try anyway.
Many - myself - would call you a fool.
There is some greater power here,
That forces in the dark,
And turns your own power against you.
Even one so strong as you--you will fail.
But no--a sliver, silver flitting,
I see it now, a single shard,
Now becoming a ray of crystal light.
I know not from whence it came,
Only that you had some part to play.
It grows now,
Crossing the pavement,
Banishing the darkness hence from our sight.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/anksad.gif) discontent
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03:34 pm - crappy poem written during the duration of health class (aka drugsarebad class)
Bloody Beast
12:11 p.m. 7.1.04
All that becomes of silence-
All that frigidness bears-
Has come down upon us,
And ripped us to shreds.
This is no longer an uncommen occurence.
I find this beast at our door quite often.
Each time we patch ourselves together
We become weaker
And weaker.
Current Mood: depressed
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03:32 pm - more chem crappy-ness
Untitled
12:04 p.m. 7.1.04
Who I am-
And what I've become-
I can live with neither.
But as I've bitten and slashed all those Kind
And screamed at warmth in and Response
I am doomed to a cycle of self-hatred.
Not that I expected anything else.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankangry.gif) cynical
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03:29 pm - crappy stuff I wrote in chem
Untitled Response
12:01 p.m. 7.1.04
The darkness of my heart
And the secrets that lie within
May cause me at times to act
In ways you cannot fathom.
My heart is a deep ocean of secrets
And I keep my confidences to myself.
It's not anything for anyone to understand
How I act
How I think.
You're wasting your time if you're trying.
Current Mood: melancholy
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January 6th, 2004
08:18 pm - expansion of light/dark lament
So, all moments of light live in fear of those of darkness. I hold onto the light moments for as long as I possibly can, until they're ripped from me, and I'm shoved into darkness again. It would seem that this is all my life consists of: this struggle of light and dark (but I've already mentioned this (see prev. entry)).
And it would appear that light moments are far more fragile than dark. But I feel that this is only an illusion. What we fear is almost never as strong as we think it is (take my fear of spiders, I'm terrified of them when they're only a miniscule fraction of my size). The light moments seem rarer, because you wish you had more time to savor them. The light seems weak because it is what you enjoy.
Current Mood: philosophical
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08:12 pm - Poe-inspired (sonnet-to Science)
Sprite
6:35 p.m. 6.1.04 (Tuesday)
Wood-sprite,
Little nymph so perculiar,
Flitting through the forest,
And running o'er the heath.
What are you for?
Delicate little creature
Born of earth and water.
What ancient order to you follow?
You no longer dwell within the heart of man-
He has forsaken you for his Science.
He comforts himself with those theories and laws.
But you, little pixy, are not bound by such things-
You are the free spirit, as Nature truly intended.
Author's Note: I hate the poem that inspired this work of mine (Poe's "Sonnet-to Science), but Poe did make a very good point in writing it. Science is nice, but we must not forget to indulge in imagination.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankthink.gif) contemplative
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07:54 pm - sleeping boy
My Baby Sleeps Tonight
6:18 p.m. 6.1.04 (Tuesday)
In the semi-light I lie
Watching him; his chest rising and falling,
Rythmically in tune to my own breathing
My baby sleeps tonight.
And no matter what his past holds
Whatever vulgar and vile sentiments
Are washed away now
As my baby sleeps tonight.
From the beginning of my time on this mortal plane
I have not seen such a beautiful face;
Distinguished features; supple body
As in my baby who sleeps tonight.
And I believe that in the rest of my days
I shall never find
Such a one pure of heart
As my baby wh sleeps tonight.
Current Mood: mellow
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07:48 pm - lost love
Hushed Love
12:01 p.m. 6.1.03 (Tuesday)
Long ago, and not so far away
Lived the one whom I loved.
For years I looked upon her
Afraid to speak her name
Though it played lovingly on my lips.
The sacred beauty which she so carefully displayed
I knew was ne'er to be mine.
And my heart thus felt upon it iron fetters,
As it was locked into place,
But that one remarkably beautiful face.
Author's Note: It would make a fantastic sonnet if only it was four lines longer.
Current Mood: thoughtful
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07:45 pm - more Marionette
Dance of Marionette
11:36 a.m. 6.1.04 (Tuesday)
My little Marionette
She dances in the candlelight
A fluid figure
Moving with definate grace and skill.
Sweet Marionette.
Your face speaks of feigned innocence,
And that makes you all the more beautiful.
The fire dances in your eyes
And your face begets a knowing grin.
You are as a sprite.
My little sprite;
Little Marionette.
Current Mood: mellow
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07:42 pm - old little poem
Memo to the nonconformist
9.10.03 approx. 2:00 p.m.
Lying within the darkest depths
Waiting for the light to strike
I lie; unknown.
What's here, sweet one?
I love thee, o thou with disregard
For the tyrant of conformity.
But dare I speak my heart?
Nay, I am not as brave as you.
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January 5th, 2004
04:49 pm - a small love poem
My Marionette
1:45 p.m. 5.1.03 (Monday)
Sweet young Marionette
How smoothly you move
Oh, my dear beauty
Many have fallen to you
Even more yell; scorn you
Call you names,
My sweet Marionette,
Little Marionette.
Author's Note: You may not see much in this poem, but I like it a lot because it's so simplistic. And I shan't digress whom I wrote it for, so please save yourself the trouble of asking. No one any of you would know.
Current Mood: content
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04:48 pm - short lament written in psych class
5.1.03
Darkness/Light Lament
There is too much pain in my life to possibly express in words. There are also moments of excruciating joy - almost too much to bear are these. So I live within the bounds of eternal paradox.
There is the darkness, and there is the light. They exist within each other, mottled together, so that nothing is ever completely pure, nor fully vile.
Nothing ever whole; always incomplete. Searching for truth is a search in vain.
And there is no state of eternal contentment, as there is none of misery.
But the moments of light always live in fear of those of darkness.
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January 1st, 2004
12:51 pm - My Dozen Roses
My Dozen Roses
Completed 9:25 a.m. 31.12.03 (Wednesday)
A Sonnet For Sean
Here for you are my one dozen roses:
The first filled with caring;
The second with warmth.
Within the third you’ll find protection,
And tenderness flows from the fourth.
The fifth is a home for hope;
The sixth a vessel for patience.
Friendship finds its place in the seventh.
The eighth flower is a symbol of trust.
The ninth exists in representation of honesty.
The tenth is for your past; the eleventh for your future.
The twelfth is a simple piece of affection.
Within each of these blossoms lurks the signature of love-
Afraid to speak its name.
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December 24th, 2003
07:58 pm - How deep
17.12.03
9:13 a.m.
E're and e're in love, how deep does it run, then?
Tell me, how deep does it run?
Is it a river easily bridged for anger,
Or does it falterand drown?
Show me how deep it runs, show me now!
I feel your words, those spoken outside the heat of lust,
Have lately faltered.
And I am left alone to my intensified agony.
If I were to cut all the pain out of me,
Methinks my crimson river
Would run deeper that your love.
Author's Note: The public loved this one, for some reason. They always eat up whatever they think relates to suicide or self-mutilation. Bunch of masochists.
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07:51 pm - Letter to the defiant one-
9.10.03
2:04 p.m. (all dates are written European)
The wolves, they bay and tear at you.
But nary a word from your lips
Or a grimace of pain.
For you, there is no honor in thi; only defiance.
You - enigma,are you capable of knowing me?
Will you know me?
This I cannot tell, therefor I ask.
Stay with me a moment more-
Maybe I can kep them away for a while.
But do not overestimate the strength in me-
They will not be gone long.
So now we are together here,
In this sacred moment-
What will your action be?
Author's Note: The words "will" and "knowing" are used in thei somewhat-archaeic forms.
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05:23 am - loyalty
Note to self, before I forget: must write a poem about loyalty, bravery, and preserverence.
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mistresselle's journal