[x]

ClonesWhat if we're all ordinary?
What if we're the same?
Under the illusion
that we have a different face.

What if we're identical?
A person is a clone?
No such thing as character;
we're all in monotone.

Take out your eyes
and all you'll see is black.
As the being in control
won't let us see the facts.

I Shall Not Be LostI shall not be lost to the
earth or to the air.
Place me in a starry lady's
wispy silver hair.

For she shall not be forgotten,
her face never lost to men.
Make me a glory angel,
remembered with every silent amen.

Stick me in the sky,
where heroes of old are lain.
If you promise me this now,
I shall never sin again.

For here I am unnoticed,
believed to be unneeded.
Help me show that I am great,
So that for once, I may be heeded.

Noyade aux nympheasNoyade aux nymphéas.

Se noyer dans l’étrangeté de son être
Pour oublier ce que nous ne sommes pas,
Pour oublier ce qu’on aurait pu être,
Pour ne plus traîner à genoux ses pas,

Pour n’être plus que cette transparence,
Cette ultime et finale incandescence
D’une lointaine étoile qui se meurt,
Pour simplement ne plus sentir la peur.

Se noyer dans le dedans d’une image
De soi que nous renvoient tous ces miroirs.
Du bout de ses doigts, ouvrir le tiroir
Où se cache tous ces nous d’enfant sage.

Le miroir si noir de l’onde glacée
Et si profond tout ce néant du vide.
Le vent léger en à peine une ride
M&rsqu

Notes from the Kuiper BeltMerfolk know well
of the Man in the Moon
of his stories that
pull at the sea.
Deep Impact looks
at the blueness below
and wonders if
it could be free.
Merfolk look up
(in the night) at the brightness
that's hanging there
oxygen-high.
Stardust is silent
past Eta Aquarids
and wishes for death
with a sigh.
Merfolk know nothing
of carbon and cobalt and
copper, except
that they shine.
Lyrids, past Jupiter,
scream above sharks who are
circling,
ready to dine.

The Marriage of Miranda and FerdinandI. Prospero's Evocative Blessing
By no man or woman, or child, has the tale been spoken
Of the Marriage of Miranda and Ferdinand, their union never broken.
When, on that day, Miranda's father, the powerful Prospero, saw,
As he watched from above
A cliff, his daughter and her love,
Amidst a tryst,
His hardened heart relented
And of their union he consented.
For his eye had seen
All the joy and gravity once he had with his wife been.
Of the youth's bounds the sorcerer did liberate,
But not before their nuptials he would consecrate.
He joined their hands,
And leveled his gaze with Ferdinand's.
"Speak me the truth, O, Prince of Naples,
For as long as you stand and live,
Everything in your power will you give
To give Miranda happiness as you are able."
In all ardor, Ferdinand answered,
"Milord, Though my sufferings were brief,
There is no greater grief
I can think than to pain
Miranda, the light in my night,
For without her, all is in vain
My life and power would well be my

Player Two Locked INStick to the fantasy
Speak a warped philosophy
Believe every sick thought
That you can conceive.

Maybe if I was an addict
If patients were my bad habit
I know you don't understand it
This is just the way I planned it.

March to the tune of your doom
I give you credit for one thing
Helping me remember everything.

I'm gone, don't believe it?

When you're on the ground
crawling around like a fucking maggot
scratching and searching for another bad habit
you'll be all alone with just your damage.

You'll know my name
You'll know you've lost the game.

Never dyeing loveI had a love gentle and kind ,
one that for once I could truly call mine.
But as the fates have, it was not to be so,
for the powers that be said that I must go
on a very long journey to place far away
where he could not follow, for I could not stay.
We walked a short time in this life hand and hand,
and no stronger love had I felt for a man.
So I'll try very hard to remain for a while
before I must leave from his side with a smile,
and a gentle kiss to his velvet soft lips
though I feel at my back deaths icy cold grip.
My heart is breaking to see him cry
and I struggle to answer the question just why
in the face of such b

Human Distortionyou're scattered across the table
you're misplaced in the sheets
you sing and put everyone to sleep
lull with sedation and liquid dreams
we can forget the things we've seen
we can forget the monsters we've been
like maggots infesting your skin
we're digging through so let us in

you could be free of everything
dazed and abused
you're free of everything

when the time is up
it will pick us up
then throw us down
we'll wear its crown
open our mouths to drown
in its milk and honey

we're fake made of plastic
we're fucked and sick
i think we have a bad habit
like nomadic addicts
how did we get this bad?

RememberI wonder if once in a while you chance to think of me,
If now and then I happen across the depths of your memory.
I care not how my words were perceived by each life that I've been a part,
Whe'er I'm recalled with tears and disdain, or etched forever upon ones heart.
For in the end when the play is done and we face that final curtain call,
It's not by words we remember a man but by each act he took towards all.
S. Davis
June 2012

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The Ocean and the ManShe is the deepest ocean of the world
With eyes that burn like ships set on fire.
Her heart is the sea's greatest oyster's pearl,
But to dive to it is dark, and cold, and dire.
She loves with the great fury of the waves
That crash forever on the rocky shores
Of He, the island filled with twisted caves
That threaten, always, to devour her.
He stands like a soldier upon her soul,
Guarding ever what he will not call his own;
He refused, once, her offer of the whole,
But will not let another take her home.
"Choose your way," says the ocean to the shore,
"Love me now, or forswear forevermore."

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Flying on a Knife-Edge

by ~StrangeChilde, Jul 23, 2004, 5:13:28 PM
Literature / Poetry / Transgressive / Traditional Fixed Forms

Draw myself a heart,
Pierce it with a sword,
Never let them see that I
Have rendered myself cold.
What’s carved in blood on flesh
Defines the real.
What blades form in the night
Can make me feel.
Draw myself the eyes
To see into my soul,
But shield it from the rest
And leave them unable to view.
What’s carved in blood on flesh
Defines the real.
What blades form in the night
Can make me feel.
Draw myself the wings
That I would need to fly
And leave all of these people
And their hatreds far behind.
What’s carved in blood on flesh
Defines the real.
What blades form in the night
Can make me feel.
Draw myself a heart,
Pierce it with a sword,
Then fly away and leave them
Truly blind.

Flying on a Knife-Edgeby ~StrangeChilde

Literature / Poetry / Transgressive / Traditional Fixed Forms

It's a poem. Go away.

Karen McMichael, July 2004

~snazy-a-tastic Jul 24, 2004 Photographer

I love the rhythm and I agree, this IS talent!

~StrangeChilde Jul 24, 2004

*blushes and hides under the nearest bed*

~secretsinaugust Jul 23, 2004 Writer

wow, now this is talent!

~StrangeChilde Jul 23, 2004

Glad you like it!

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Flying on a Knife-Edge

Flying on a Knife-Edgeby ~StrangeChilde

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