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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

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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.

Hush February 19, 2013

Posted by findingherforte in poetry, Uncategorized, writing.
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I.

She squeezed her lover’s hand. It seemed an innocent enough gesture to those around. But they knew the secret to keeping it all hush, hush.
Three squeezes meant “I love you”
Four squeezes meant “I love you, too”
One long squeeze meant “Please don’t leave me”
This message was lost to the second lover as they picked up their bag and waved goodbye, feigning happiness to the lover left behind. To the unconvinced Brena.

It was then that she remembered the first time she said those 3 beautiful words.
“I love you”
“Hush!” her lover laughed, “someone may hear you.
“Let them hear!” Brena retorted, firmly but lovingly
“I wish I were as brave as you”

II.

Brena sat on the cliff overlooking the quiet sea, waiting. It had been months since her lover left. She took a pebble in her hand and squeezed it thrice.

She feared for her beloved, out to sea. She shook as the wind blew but not from the cold. Rather, she shook from the quick air penetrating the growing hole in her chest. The waves swelled and hit the rocks below as her heart, too, swelled, sure that her lover was already on her way back.

She had to be.

III.

Brena wasn’t sleeping well. Nightmares of hungry men having their way with her love, holding her down and muffling her screams kept her awake.

The images had her tossing and turning in the bed she used to share.
She told herself that no matter what she would put her back together again. She would brush the sea air out of her hair and rebuild her from the ground up.

IV.

The ship came back but her lover did not. The men ignored her worried, persistent questions. She went to the cliff again and told herself she would jump.

But the sea told her “No.”

V.

Brena was visited by officials a couple of days after the ship came back, without her lover. With no other family, her beloved’s belongings were returned to her.  A scarf, a leather bag, and a pair of work boots.

“What of her emerald? She never took it off.” Brena inquired.

“Hush, do not speak out of turn woman,” the man of God raised a hand, “We are truly sorry for your loss. Your sister was a magnificent sailor.”

Brena did not correct him and he said nothing of the emerald.

VI.

In the dirty hands of the sailors, drinking in the local tavern, was the emerald in question. A raven landed on the window sill, and eyed the jewel with curiosity.
“Didn’t take much to obtain it, stupid girl didn’t put up much of a fight,” said a drunken sailor.
“Hush! Drink makes you loud and foolish,” his friends warned.
The raven flew toward the sea.

They stumbled back to their wives, no worry of the morning’s repercussions in their mind, only the present merriment.
They were spared the harsh, judging light of day for none would wake with the sun.
Their blood drained from their throats,
Their tongues cut from their mouths,
Their bodies covered in black feathers.
The last sound they heard before death took them hung in the air, more than a promise. More than a threat.

“Hush”

Prophecy: Black Sea April 23, 2012

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In the darkest of waters,
in the lands of the Old,
fates are decided
and fortunes are told

There, maidens three
will emerge from the sea
to tell you what was,
what is, and will be

One will bring peace
to body and mind,
rid you of guilt
and transgressions that bind

Another will welcome
good fortune in life,
warn you of danger
and incoming strife

The last will stay silent
but, holding your gaze,
will expel all your fears
in more than one way

For beginning anew
needs a mind that is open
a heart that is sure
and a spirit unbroken

Tears Grow Nothing March 21, 2012

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Don’t let me define you.
I am not a mirror
and even those are flawed.

Let me start over.

I am a gesture.
At best, a natural occurrence.
A pretty face and nothing more.

Don’t let me decide for you.
That’s not fair
I am not equipped for that
And you deserve better

At the end of the day,
no matter how many petals you pull,
he’s never coming back
And I’m only a flower.

God of the Sea January 19, 2012

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There he stood, his
body of bronze
and there I stood
in jaw dropping awe

Such presence in silence
this god of the sea
I knew who he was
but he didn’t know me

He relaxed his pose
and slowly he said
“What interest have you
in gods that are dead?”

I’ve interest in stories
of love and of rage
such tellings of old
are meant for the stage

And I love how the gods
are willing to trade and
bring you smooth sailing
for the alms you have paid

Your memory lives on
and your legend is great
don’t let the people
decide a god’s fate

And Poseidon, he smiled
“Thank you my friend
I’m not quite ready
for my legend to end”

<3Christine

Forgotten Father January 3, 2012

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All seeing eye of a realm in the sky
How lonely you must be
Your followers long dead
Your triumphs turned legend
And existence believed myth

A King may have all of the riches
and power to rule without waver
but a god with no
prayers
is a fish out of water

The hunger of your ego
doesn’t even possess the luxury
of ceasing to exist
A mortal’s death would surely suffice
but an immortal body would never allow it

And so you linger, like the scent of sunshine
after a long summer day,
watching and waiting for a true believer
to resurrect what has long laid dormant
an honest to god undying magic
the Forgotten Father of Winter’s past

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