Shadow Baby

Dec. 7, 08

Shadow baby,
What have you learned from your stalking
Of the old despaired man lighting the lanterns
Across the way of a church with broken windows?

What stories have you told him yet, winter?
What metal work ways has he poured into your eyes,
They seem colder now like freezing iron-too soon seen.

Make believe his life as you've made believe your own,
Tell yourself you're different and by what you know
You have a father truly and he was as different as you.

Shadow baby,
What veil do you toss behind you so none can see?
What intelligent eyes don't tell and what a mouth
won't speak with too many others to listen around.

I'll laugh a smile and you'll smile an inward cry,
I won't notice my winter, because you hid in your cover,
And you may say I may have given them to you first ...

My darling, I'll tell none of your life you wish to know,
Take your future upon your stride and wish for well,
Be an adult with chickens and a baby with ignorance.

Shadow baby,
What have you learned from the metal sheets,
Your cold feet demanding to step inside his mind,
Keep blowing my winter, and by the luckless seasons
You'll never ever die.

*
If you've read
Shadow Baby by Alison McGhee this will make sense...If not...Well then some bits may not seem right to you...
Excerpt:
"Clara first spies him through the crack in the stained-glass window of her church,
lighting a string of handmade lanterns in the Adirondack woods. A lone old man, Georg Kominsky
moves stealthily among the shadow world of his hanging, glittering creations."
---
In Alison McGhee's stunning novel Shadow Baby, eleven-year-old Clara is struggling to find the truth
about her missing father and grandfather and her twin sister, dead at birth, but her mother steadfastly refuses
to talk about these people who are lost to her daughter. When Clara begins interviewing Georg Kominsky
for a school biography assignment, she finds that he is equally reticent about his own concealed history.
Precocious and imaginative, the girl invents version upon version of Mr. Kominsky's past,
just as she invents lives for the people missing from her own shadowy past.
The journey of discovery that these two oddly matched people embark upon is at the heart of this beautiful story about friendship and communion, about discovering what matters most in life, and about the search to find the missing pieces of ourselves. McGhee's prose glistens with shrewd truth and wild imaginings, creating a fine novel that will reverberate in the hearts and minds of readers long after the book is finished.

http://www.alisonmcghee.com/shadowbaby.html

We Are But Only...

Nov. 25, 08
Dedicated to: Will(for my inspiration)

Flow the melodies,
Of your sweet insanity...
Lost in lustful trances we are,
We are what we made the keys to be.

Count the chords and strum the guitar,
Sorrowful the violin in the corner,
Of our minds,
Never escaping the dream like trance,
And talking out what we think and devise.

Flow the rainfall,
Of our dancing eyes...
Lost in dreamy slumber we are,
We are what we made the keys to be.

Sweet is the melody of our minds,
Combined and left solo to play,
We spin again,
Never escaping the drought we made ourselves,
Potions we create to slumber in daisy petals.

Flow the desire,
Of our kinetic bodies...
Potentially lost in oblivion we are,
We are what we made insanity to be.

Crazed in our obsessions of ourselves,
And each other's lips that speak our words,
We laugh again,
At the silly things that make sense to us,
But not to one another or anyone else.

Flow the craving,
Of our intuitive glances...
Lost only in ink and pen to paper,
But found ourselves a true friend to tree and sun.

Black Pearl

November 12, 08

What came forth from the inklings below the black mirror?
Not but an air bubble from the open mouth of the clam,

Far be it from me,
To deny the sharpness of your teeth,
I'll prick my finger tip upon the edge,
Begging for a Sleeping Beauty sleep.

Far be it from you,
To take your words and stretch true,
Devour your hopes and be settled, dear
Temporary bereavement for the lost dew.

So gather us whole,
Take us together and fall down to crawl,
So by goodness I eat what is spoken,
Forgetting hidden reprieve behind a shawl.

Once more together,
All as one we go again in this 'forever',
Succeeding in such a happiness we delve,
Never shallow but not to deep is better.

What courage did it take to believe in happiness, my dear?
In wickedness I've learned that venturing farther is futile,

Tell Myself

October 26 08

Tears dropping, rippling,
In opaque seen pond beneath the fog,
Marsh strands whisper above the cloud,
Coming forth like first soldiers on a field.

Air is heavily, crowding,
I push back the curtain of it's pearl dew,
Only to meet more as they attack my skin,
Staying on my agonized lips sighing again.

Love is enclosing, demanding,
And I push back against without realizing it,
Leaning away, again, knowing the mistaking,
Lies in my head coming forth as forced truth.

Tears dropping, rippling,
After or before I've made my choice anew,
This wall created against the outside fear,
Or rather, a wall of fear I created in control.

Against hopes hoping,
Like false hopes dipping in illusive appeal,

In Responce of Your Question

October 19, 08

Till time done apart stitches,
Draining the rainbow half full,
No colour will be justly dull,
If your eyes stay awide open

Don't weep with eyes closed,
Lick the salt from the wound,
The drought ends ever soon,
Parched throats can drink fire.

Burn aging phoenix take your ash,
To the fountains in your grave,
A baby cries inaudibly your name,
And the cycle ends with the butterfly.

Whirpool Effect

October 15, 08

Beguiled by the myriad of leaves in the oval eye
Spectrum of unfolding sheets dripping in dye,
If words became breath and raced along your skin,
Would you give eternity to infinite feeling?

Practitioners taking your breath as medicine,
Injecting what-not to foam underneath your skin,
Watch your skin mock your own flaunting dance,
Will you take away eternity -for infinite feeling?

Irresistible like the needing of spring after winter,
Cutting daisy flowers for each step of your saunter,
Forgetting the burnt crisp ground from your heels,
You'll take me to eternity; then to infinity.

Haunt Me

October 6, 08
Very Poorly Written.

Uncoil heaven's innocence,
For I've been raped and I'm-
Not beautiful anymore or was.
Bleak shadows haunt my smile,
Knowing taints their seen tuition
Of me.
I'm wrong and everything hated.

Unleash heaven's pain upon me,
For I prefer the crucified tears,
Only to wet my lips with as I paint-
It with my finger tips and nails.
My convergence within myself,
Skirts them.
Because they know I like how I am.

Rain upon me hell's own flames,
As it licks my skin wrapping me in-
A burning ember robe of self haunting
Beaten as I am in mind by my own,
Lived through and through again,
Too much.
Of everything nobody wants to see.

By my shadows, I was told I'm nothing.
And I believed it.
I'm not beautiful anymore the rose tells me.