habs360 Poetry (8)

Just touch the scarlet of my heart.
Don’t say to me you’ll never leave,
Don’t play me for a fool naïve.
Just pierce my heart as if a dart,
Then from the wound I’ll come apart.
But for me may you never grieve,
Just touch the scarlet.

Now take my essence, sweet and tart.
Upon my head lay down your sleeve,
To cover now my hearts last heave.
Don’t ever play the martyrs part,
Just touch the scarlet.

© 2004

I walk the streets of memory
A town of empty ruins
The streets are paved with misery
On which my dreams are strewn
Darkness filled with imagery
A scene where players play
A stage where pain is symmetry
I long to turn the page
I hear the call of chivalry
The death of empty words
I feel I'm moved to rivalry
A duel of broken swords
I feel my soul in agony
I long to simply run
But chains I've forged through blasphemy.
They drag me from the sun.
So here I lay a memory
A cold and empty shell
The tears I've shed in misery
My story now they tell

Copyright (c) 2001
All Rights Reserved

Distant thunder wakes the night,
Goods and devils rise to fight.
Clashing steel and lightning’s flash,
Warning all, the coming clash.
Wicked wind stirs up the trees,
Bringing silence to its knees.
Rocky shores expect to feed,
While sailing ships they fail to heed.
Rising swells attack the beach,
Ev’ry charge extends their reach.
Snow and Ice they follow next,
Mother nature by her text.
Bitter cold cuts though the world,
To the ice the night is hurled.
Children watch through frosted glass.
Watching as she teaches class.
Giggles come there near the end,
Snow flake’s dance and twist and bend.
Coming dawn shows fields of white,
Not a hint to lasts nights fight.

(c) 2004

“Look into my eyes,” she said, “and tell me what you see.”
I looked into those deep blue pools, and what I saw was me.
“Speak to me my child,” she said, “and ask me what you will.”
I asked of her to tell me true, and waited there until.

“Pay the price to know,” she said, “and I will tell you all.”
I looked at her and fin’lly said, “I’ll pay though I must fall.”
“The truth you seek to know,” she said, “is more than you can stand.”
I went to her and smiled anew, while reaching for her hand.

“This is what you seek,” she said, “this and nothing more.”
The look I saw within her eyes backed me t’wards the door.
“Now you know the truth,” she said, “the truth of all I know”
It came to me within the night, a raging river’s flow.

“Now it’s time to pay,” she said, “Pay me for this gift.”
I looked around for some way out, found nothing but the rift.
“Do not be sad,” she said, “you’ve played your mortal role.”
I looked into those eyes again, and knew I’d lost my soul.

© 2003

For is your sweetness born of strife and pain?
A bleeding wound brought forth by razor lips.
Like oceans drowning 'neath the heaven's rain,
Your soul, it now upon these shadows sips?
But do those shadows quench that burning thirst?
Or does it, like a lonely dune, persist?
And empty rooms may close upon you cursed,
But soon the light will burn away the mist.
For in you burns the flames of loves unrest,
The burning pyres releasing you to dream.
Don't let lies sleep heavy upon your breast,
When breaking through is easy as a scream.

So scream upon the breaking of the day,
And drop your chains and let them fall away.

© 2009
All rights reserved

Touch my world softly, so gently caressed.
Give to me nothing, but what you desire;
Spare me a whisper, and set me afire.
You are an angel to this I’ll attest.

All that I am is as I have confessed.
You are the air and the life I require.
Wind in the trees and that which is higher.
You’re all of my dreams as I have expressed.

To take from me now what you have bestowed,
Would tear out my heart, and cripple my soul,
While damming my love, a river that flowed.

So please hear my words, of this I am owed.
Your words they are knives, and taking their toll.
As slowly I fall while visions corrode.

© 2003

The moon was high within the night,
When I beheld a lonely sight.
I came upon it without eyes,
But with a touch I felt its cries.
It was a globe of mist and due,
Of sweating glass both false and true.
I saw it there. I know I did.
But at my touch, from me it hid.
I walked about as if a moon,
While from my lips I blew a tune.
And as I watched it seemed to breathe.
Or did it pulse, or maybe seethe?
Of what it did I am not sure.
Of what’s within, my thoughts did lure.
So to its skin I reached again,
And what I felt was more than pain.
The sweat upon it burned like tears,
Shed many times through many years.
So I stepped back to gather nerve,
And wondered what this thing did serve.
Then through its shell I heard a sound,
Like breaking bones or splitting ground.
And words, I think, I then did hear.
They said that I had come to near.
And as I wondered what they meant,
I touched again the tears it sent.
Then with my sleeve a window made,
To find what thing within it played.
But what I saw was out of place,
It was a man the shadows traced.
A man like me, my eyes did tell.
Though I did find he came from hell.
And when the moon did fill his world,
His head did lift, his eyes unfurled.
With eyes so cold he barked a shout,
For me to help and let him out;
But though I tried I could not find,
A lock or key to free his mind;
And then that voice I heard within,
It told me of his life of sin.
It told me things I would forget,
Those chilling tails of murders debt;
And though I heard the words entailed,
I tried to break the sphere but failed.
I could not help myself that night,
For through his eyes I saw a sight.
It was a man, I saw, was me.
Or more correct, the he I’d be.
I knew right then my futures end,
The gardens that my soul would tend;
And then the sphere began to grow,
It reached for me though I screamed, “NO!”
But by it’s force it pulled me in,
Releasing him who’d paid his sin.
So here I sit awaiting time,
To play for me its morbid rhyme;
For I must wait till I am clean,
Though truth be known I thought I’d been.
So sit I must within this shell,
My liquid cage, my frozen hell!

© 2004

So call my name in times of grief.
No, do not wait till all is lost,
Lost there beneath the winters frost.
For in the night there comes a thief,
To reap your soul just like a sheaf;
Your protests then they will exhaust,
So call my name.

For I will keep your waiting brief;
While catching what you've lightly tossed,
Upon the ground to pay the cost;
I vow to you this true relief,
So call my name.

© 2004