the book of water: 喜怒哀楽

the trembling in the mirror

bittersweetness

only in my dreams
do I recall such songs--
melodies of hope

melting like dew -- wide awake;
the music turns to shadows.

solitude in azure

so endlessly clear!
the perfection of a sky
marred by a sole cloud

I'm too free to feel lonely
in a world this wide, this blue.

Au palais de verre

fragile and closed-up
encased in a glass cocoon
vitric chrysalis

its guards have chimera teeth
(you cannot move a finger)

change

a sweet night-air chill,
wind blows, the weather changes--
a whisper of you...?

awaken those memories
and move towards the sunrise...

The Box of Chocolates

please don't be angry
for your anger will ruin
my good intentions.

choose the fall over the stillness

I'm fearing too much;
laughter, ridicule, silence,
any oversteps

how do I cripple this fear?
there are other ones with wings

the need to find them
the desperant want to hide
the courage it takes

to think, for just one moment:
"I am worthy. I am here."

this lonely terror...
oh Fate, I'm done with it all!
am I not faerie?

oh, am I not Black Widow?
am I not sapphire-jewelled?

I will weave these webs
I will heal the hearts I find
I will find courage.

I am not the only one;
out there, on the winds...my tribe!

disremembrance

memory glowing:
a sunset staining the sky,
a voice on the air,

rich and pure and soaring high.
but where? and how to get back?

A Fine Killing Thing

there are too many
tears and too many spiders.
I can't sleep tonight.

time to halt those dreams, darling.
hope is a fine killing thing.

Identity Parade

as the potion went
down my throat, the dreams left me
in frenzied exodus.

who owns this pathetic soul?
where are the words at sunset?

Little Promise

this radiant wild
heart, it gives way easily,
far too easily.

let me throw my lot in with
foolishness. what comes will come.

hurt me, hurt me, make me feel.
I'm alive and I am whole.

Melancholia

days spent by the sea,
writing love songs to dead men.
struggling with poems.

so little else is metered
like despair and the ocean.

"you might as well live."

hope -- what fun, what spice!
keeping all options open,
hinting at maybes:

another sunset to feel,
another chance to know love.

Mindstorm

Here within my mind
This evening storm, windsweeping
The sky has taken

What little strength I have left
Sleep is still so far away.

無常 (Uncertainty)

(trying to keep it
together; trying not to
come undone this time--)

the crazing in the china
flakes of porcelain falling

no kintsugi
the heart and mind a wild mess
following the cracks

marble hands veined with breakage
spilling out like a bad dream

nerve pain

a hell of pressure:
a dragon trapped in the spine,
infuriated, raging

nothing will calm its fury
spare the milk of the poppy.

This Is Not the Pisces You're Looking For

I want a better
world, where beautiful people
will not ever die

where we will not
get bored, where there is no rot
of time: stagnation

where forever will
make us happy, happier than
change could ever do

they said I was meant to be
adaptable. they were wrong.

righteous

that certain violence,
wildfire inferno of hate?
they say it wasn't.

I shift through these ashen bones
dew-soaked with hairline fractures

sashiko

piercing indigo
creating waves of beauty
made of little stabs

bright silver needle dances
as the storm inside abates

what was that summer?

trying to recall
the sunshine stained days; fading.
endless mauve blossoms.

might have been a dream, but I
never remember my dreams.

The Fair

she lives quietly
titanium-strength silence
the bars of her cage

is there some way out of here?
no jokers nor thieves to tell.

the world has moved on

I feel the distance --
a pain too large to swallow:
a swollen river.

drowning in a tearstained world,
gorged sick on isolation.

untitled 0404

sickening feeling
stretched like rotten elastic
perishing rubber

passed by for someonething else
left to die in the sun