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Twist of Fate March 20, 2015

Posted by findingherforte in poetry, writing.
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He grabbed the necklace
around her neck
and pulled down and away
but the clasp was too strong
so she bent at the waist,
at the strength of it.

It dug into the skin around her neck
the chain of fate,
of burden, and
of power.
She smiled at her feet
and took this moment to
gather herself for his
next actions
his knuckles were white
as his grasp on the pendant
tightened.

She gathered her will,
her faith,
and her courage
and it manifested.
In the palms of her hands,
glowing violet and pulsing

The pendant burned his hand
and he stumbled back.
The witch stood straight again.
Thankfully he had remembered to cast
his eyes away,
her spell broken and powerless
without the windows
to his soul

Tight-rope March 13, 2014

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Tight-rope walking with a
rope around my waist
hanging onto memories
of times I cannot place
the words are formed upon
the lips my
fingers used to trace
and I know that I will fall
if I keep
moving at this
pace
but if I stop to face the ground
my work will be a waste

Linger June 7, 2013

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The bass is in my chest
and it makes me feel hollow
Recent events, whatever they mean,
make a hard pill to swallow and
There’s no time to feed
the self loathing that’s roaming
in my head and my heart
or blame the rules of the game
So I shrug off the shame
lying bare on my shoulders
and move forward
But the road has grown longer
and meaner, and I don’t
want to linger here in this
faux purgatory more than I have to,
more than I need to
“I’ll pull through, in the end,”
I tell myself, like I’d
tell a friend.
For now I’m a ghost
making the most of
the time that I’m given
to prove I am driven
enough.

Prophecy: Emerald City October 23, 2011

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When winds are agreeable
and the sky is clear
they will reunite in
the Emerald City
where, months before, nothing
could touch them;
our fiery star turned
their city into a gem
among rocks
and everyday was a dream
they never wanted to
wake up from
Alas, two lovers must part
but not for long

One sails north to find
better things
for his scholarly mind
to attend to
(while his heart lingers on her)
And if his search is fruitless
he will wait for things
to find him
If nothing else
he is patient
And when he grows thirsty
(as he often does)
he will think of nothing
but her voice,
like water,
whispering his favorite words

The other flies south
for the colors
and song birds
Flies south for her
own intellectual prospects,
expensive but promising;
when the days seem long
she will take it as a challenge
and fill the hours with music,
(sad but beautiful)
And when the sun no
longer warms her
feathers, she will long
for her northern star
more than ever

Until the End August 26, 2011

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Nothing makes sense until the end.

What may have seemed beautiful in
front of your eyes was
mere disguise to hide all
the lies that you won’t
see in time.

He sang of your beauty
so often it led you
to believe that the dread
in your stomach was all in your
head, but it had been months
since he meant the sweet words
that he lovingly said

A joke hypothetical would
some day be literal
but how could you know?
Your heart was collateral
but a temporary loss
for all you would gain
from walking down roads
hollow and cold and somehow it
ends in a light that is bold
and warm on your skin
the Yang to your Yin,
if I may

and not til this day
did things start to click
into place where you are
as if written with stars on a map of the sky
drawn before time
so keep mind over matter
but keep this in mind
it all won’t make sense
until you put it in line

Comrade July 13, 2010

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A gruesome shadow fell upon
their unsuspecting hearts
His cold and unforgiving glance
could tear them all apart

In every space he occupied
the light seemed dim and weak
fearful mortals came to see
the darkness at it’s peak

The shadow glided ‘cross the floor
as though weightless like the air
The room was still but vigilant
In hopes their lives, he’d spare

But mercy saved their souls that day
He was there for something more
It didn’t take him long to find
The creature he’d been searching for

The shadow ignored the stifled gasps
when he offered her a hand
he was merely there to rescue her,
his plans for her were grand

Though darkness consumed what met the eye
his heart was pure and good
And he knew, today, he’d finally found
the only soul who understood