100 Poems, 100 Days

18/7/2009

Green grass grows amongst brown leaves
Leaves, which are silent while alive
Yet loud when dead
Crunching beneath my feet

They were silenced during their life
By the lively green grass
But would wait into their next lives
To branch out to the trees

you know those happy people
who always say "I love him!" or "I love her!"
you know... the god damn people who like everybody

I wish I was one of them

The girl I used to know is buried seven miles away 

From the four walls I am supposed to call a home

Surrounded by strangers and black tipped roses

She lies within the confines of a cherry red coffin

She cuts apart my sleep with the knife I used on her   

I can still feel her skin beneath my fingertips,

See her doll face in blood speckled glass shards

My only apology is orchids and the occasional thought

I can feel the freedom
shook it with my hand
held it in my hand
I can see the future
myself flying
free as a bird
I watch myself breaking the shackles
cutting the ties to home

And what is a home really?
Is it a physical place?
Is it an idea?
Where the heart is?
Is it an idea from a distant past that never really existed?
A time of happiness invented in your mind?'
A place where the children played?

I look forward to driving free,
navigating my future. 

every breath is self conscious
every feeling
every thought
every motion
sabotaged from the start
mute and dumb and fuck
if it has a sound, this is it

So is this as loud as I'll ever scream?
stuttering half baked ideas?

just stab my superego with a papaya
worthless piece of crap

this is it...
do you see the problem?
crystal?

Written for Prompt #539 at promptdujour - coconut shoes.

The whole world is yours for the taking
There's nothing you've got left to lose
So step out into the fast pacers
Just strut in your coconut shoes.

The party is only beginning
There's no room 'round here for the blues
So step up and move to the music
Just dance in your coconut shoes.

The present is full of adventures
There's not an excuse you can use
So step in and get what they're getting
Just jive in your coconut shoes.

The whole world is yours for the taking
You can have all of this if you choose
So step on your fears and confusion
Just put on those coconut shoes.

photos,
a lover
nostalgia,
you and I
a gentle regret

She walks through the alleyway and slips on broken glass
With the garbage she feels at home, at least more than normal
But when the early dogs rise she scrurries with the cats
Not wanting to be found, to be taken out of this world she's haunting

Her eyes weld shut, closed tight in fear
Lips of strawlike rose purse to fight the bitter cold
Of the thursday morning chill.
Whisperings always reach her and she hears them and knows

Once a steady heartbeat grinding, against a healthy boned chest
echo's slowly in her skeleton of sunken cheeks and skin
when the light rises at dawn she'll leave this new place and go
far away from it all again. Her eyes are always closed.

Calloused palms and hardened fingers scrape across my skin
Waking every dampened flame that simmers from within
Brushing, skidding, itching tease; more dangerous than sin -
Your touch is voodoo for my soul.

Captured in a quickened breath, disguised as a flushed cheek
Rhythms pound their throb and flow with menacing mystique
Explosions fizzle into sighs that leave the body weak -
Your kiss is voodoo for my soul.

Held so still that time is paused, lingers take a lifetime
Pressure shadows heated skin with marks to prove the crime
Little hisses beg for movement, desperations rhyme -
Your grip is voodoo for my soul.

Piercing, twisting, painful need; the motions are divine
Smooth desire coats the mind - as heady as strong wine
Haunting repetitions; bodies finally align
Your thrust is voodoo for my soul.

Not many mortals have seen the light

Although they may have thought

They did it was really a lie,

The opposite of reality like a dream,

But I am no dreamer and I know the world is a tower of Babel. 

No one person speaks the same tongue

 

We all have our individual tongues

From which blood is shed in the absence of light. 

We are blinded from our thoughts through babble,

We are blinded from the thought

That was painted by the artist of our dreams.  

Dreams which are really just lies

 

Everyone is constantly babbling about these lies  

In their various tongues,

Which are like the many types of dreams

That can be seen in oh so many lights

Illuminating our thoughts,

Which no one understands over their own babbling

 

Only in dreams can we transcend the tower of Babel

Only in dreams is happiness not a lie

Try to expand the dream through thought

Keep the taste of it on your tongue

Keep it with you during the hours of light,

Hoping that your dream was not just a dream.

 

But the truth is a dream is a dream .

And so why do so many spend their time babbling

About something that is gone with the first rays of light

Only existing for the moment when you lie

In bed with your eyes closed and your tongue

Not sharing any thoughts

 

Writing this poem is pointless because you are blind to my train of thought

You can probably better understand your dreams

Or even a foreign tongue

Than this pointless babbling

That I write as I lie

At night but seeing much light

 

Light is not as pleasant as it is thought,

To be, I’d rather lie in bed and dream

Than have to share visions of babbling tongues. 

 

Lions Of Guard

It's quite fair to say I've made my mistakes,

To have everything I desired and to let a new, foolish idea take everything away,

It's quite fair to say I cling to my faith,

I had the angel for my shoulder and the blood for my wrists, and you, somewhere in the scars,

It's quite fair to say I'm about to break,

I'd rather cling to the memories, no matter how low the odds of a repeat,

It's quite fair to say I'll take my own life,

I sometimes wonder which pills are the poison I think I want,

I sometimes dream of a razor to my wrists or a rope around my neck and suddenly feel the need,

It's quite fair to say I'm lost without you,

Coated in scars, I'll walk to the gate of two Lions,

It's quite fair to say I no longer see the point,

For when the Lions come down from their gate and claw me to the ground, destroy my body,

I'll remain dreaming, bodiless and stand by passively,

It's quite fair to say I no longer dream of the pretty things.

This is the end
But not really the end
For the story never really ends
The writer can never come up with sufficient endings
So might as well leave it open
To interpretation
So there won't be any complaints
You can choose the good ending
The bad ending
Or the ugly
You can imagine them all
Then choose the one you prefer
As for me I prefer the happy endings
I'm sure you do too
But we can only choose in stories
Happy endings only...

My life in one hand, yours' in the other
together or apart makes no change
it's life all the same
Beneath the waning moon
where crystallized clouds of a deep silver journey
our moments almost up
in the reflection of my mirror I see the moon smile
then wink and hide, as grey sheep travel by

Tonight it's time to say goodbye and 'good luck'
though fair fortune has led you here
so can you trust it now?

Many short months later they'll say you dreamt it
with no suspect or weapon how can you prove it?
They'll say I went in peace
But the ruby stain in the box
above your old grandfather clock
says otherwise

You are a special girl
Nobody has told ever you because they want you all to themselves
I still cant believe want to be with me

Of course, I am unique in my own way
I accept who I am
You think that I like you more then you like me
but I am just happy to be alive

My ideas are contagious
I have been able to control everyone I have ever met
But not you
Your just like me in so many ways, one of us must be lying

You are so strong
but so am I
Were both so afraid to be loved
So afraid

I have learned that its easier to hide out in the open then in your room
like you do
I do not want anyone to know who I am
Or how I feel

I see us together for a long time
Its too bad I have to move next summer
You want to keep your distance because I am going to leave
I understand

I told you that I have lived in six states
When I was six I could not lift my head out of my pillow to wave goodbye
Everyone I have ever loved has been ripped away from me

I have been afraid my whole life
I want to take everything back
I do not want you to know about my anxiety
I hate that you know that I am insecure

I hate you
I wanted to get my life back together and move away
Now I have doubts
I am confronted with the cold truth of being afraid again

When I wrote be with me, I meant every word
I know where this is going, I know how it ends
It ends like every other relationship I have ever had

Or maybe, maybe I am wrong
Maybe these tears wont scare you away
Or maybe I am just happy to be alive
Who knows, maybe I love you

Ps. Friend me this is my 2nd day on Live Journal

Break the back of love
for me
break the tides
that collide with the night
one last time
for me.

Roses climb
the summer night's sky
reaching for their heavens.

Rain drops steadily and is ready
to wash away
all our morning afters.

Come to me in the night
where we can share
all our unforgivable sins
lurking within the premises
of love and lust
break the boundaries
for me
You must.

Break the stars
that cling to the summer sky
one last time
for me.

Whisper dark secrets
and let me keep them
buried in my bones
Don't forsaken me
Don't leave me to rust
with this summer night's sky
Don't let my bones turn to dust.

Let me dream up a secret
and i will let you keep it
buried in your chest
right between our love
and this terrible mess.

Come slither to me
Oh, my divine King
Allow me to breathe you in
I am dying to be alive
Beneath your summer sky.

A man travels down the road of life,
Moving at a steady pace,
everything in its right place.  

He knows the road as a leaf knows a tree
Every rock, every bump, every rodent.
He is owner of the road.  

Not only does he know the road, but the road knows him.  
They are comfortable together, living harmoniously,
Fitting together like puzzle pieces.  

The road can sense the man's rhythms,
The up beats and down beats,
Feels his pulse, knows he's alive.  

The man is looking forward,
but taking a few glances back,
while not moving too fast, observing the sidewalk.  

The man comes out of the fog,
He sees his life in front of him,
Images from fog disappear before daylight.  

The trees you have shaken just to get the fruit to fall
Only to realize the fruit was not sweet at all
Cashed in on all that fake beauty, to get the man
But he wasn't worth the amount written on the payment plan.
He lies to you and sneaks around
Still you let it pass without a sound
He takes from you more than he gives
Still, deep in your heart is where he lives.

It's always someones fault except your own
It's God's fault the tree hasn't grown
It's your teachers fault you can't read a or write
It's your father's fault you cry at night.
It's the worlds fault you can't move on
It's his and her fault and it's my fault too.
The pain is your fault though, the lies you believe 
And all the things you fail to see....

Oh, the trees you have shaken Just to get the fruit to fall..
Only to find the fruit was not fruit at all



Copyright ©2009  Melissa Lugo

Words are sounds that transmit nothing
The fall like a drop into an ocean
They're swallowed up by a monster
Never to be seen or heard

Not meant to be heard
Only thought
Thoughts are the only things of value
Because nobody can take from you

Not many mortals have seen the light

Although they may have thought

They did it was really a lie,

The opposite of reality like a dream,

But I am no dreamer and I know the world is a tower of Babel. 

No one person speaking the same tongue

 

We all have our individual tongues

From which blood is shed in the absence of light. 

Our tongues blind us from the thought

That happiness is just another lie

That was painted by the artist of your dream

And a subject about which people babble

 

Everyone is constantly babbling

In their various tongues,

Which are like the many frequencies of light. 

We’re all on the same page or so we thought

We’d like to be on the same page we think as we lie

Awake at night hoping for sweet dreams. 

 

Happiness, being understood, loved, are among our dreams,

To transcend the tower of Babel,

And comprehend others’ tongues,

To one day see heaven’s light,

Such a pleasant thought

Because it is a lie

 

I think we take solace in the lies

Because they are like our dreams.

But I am no dreamer and I know the world is a tower of Babel

Because I am an observer of tongues

And thus have seen the light

It isn’t pretty as one might have thought. 

 

Writing this poem is pointless because you are blind to my train of thought

You read and in confusion you lie

And think you can better understand your own dreams

Than this pointless babbling

Of a foreign tongue

Of a witness of the light

 

Being understood is a pleasant thought,

But it is so to good not to be a dream,

Or an utterance of a false tongue.