Mereth Lalaith ar Nienaite, Meleth ar Estel

At Work

2009-03-06T08:05:00.000-08:00

*sigh*
Here we go again.

Hello! And how are you today? I'm fine, thanks! Did you find everything you were looking for? Awesome. Yup, towards me - when it says 'open' it's thinking. Have a great night!

*inhale* *exhale* *inhale*

Hello! And how are you today? I'm fine, thanks! Did you find everything you were looking for? Awesome. Yup, towards me - when it says 'open' it's thinking. Have a great night!

*inhale* *exhale* *inhale*

Hello! And how are you today? I'm fine, thanks! Did you find everything you were looking for? Awesome. Yup, towards me - when it says 'open' it's thinking. Have a great night!

*inhale* *exhale* *inha -

A hand on my shoulder, I turn. It's him. He's here. Right there!!

What are you doing here?
*smile* No hello? No "Happy Thursday?"
*blush* Oh, sorry - Happy Thursday! What are you doing here?
I came to see you.
*smile* *big smile*
But why?
Well, I was in my car, saw you come outside, and then I had to come in and see you.
I've missed you.
I've missed you, too.
*smile* *blush*
When do you get off work?
We kick everyone out at 10.
I'll wait for you outside.
*smile*
*hug*
*smile*

I watch him go. I can't take my eyes off his back. I can still feel his breath on my cheek, his hand on my arm, the way his eyes - - -

*ahem* behind me.

Oh, I'm sorry! Hello! And how are you today? I'm fine, thanks! Did you find everything you were looking for? Awesome. Yup, towards me - when it says 'open' it's thinking. Have a great night!

*inhale* *exhale* *inhale*

Midnight

2009-03-06T07:51:00.000-08:00

I am the last wish of the bachelor.
Never to be had until the time has past,
Never wanted until it is impossible to be wanted.
I am the dream from the Past,
What was desired before.
There have been others, of course,
But you’ve always wondered.
What would it be like?
What would I be like, taste like.
You wanted to know, once upon a time.
But then I was filed away,
Lost under “What If”,
Never to be thought of again.
Until I was.

For some reason, we start talking again.
Something brings us back.
And then, in the midst of banter, honesty.
I wanted so badly to touch you.
I had to stop myself kissing you.
I’m glad we got all this out.
Me, too.
Then we smile.
Arms out – friends?
The hug is never awkward until it is.
We’ve always been comfortable with each other,
This feeling grows.

Mistletoe, Sorry, Texts – they can all be blamed
But not forgotten.
We look at each other, knowing,
This has to stop.

A kiss, I’m sorry, a kiss.
“At least I hadn’t kissed her.”
My Shannon.
What are you, meth?
Stay with me tonight.
I shouldn’t have.
I have a girlfriend now.

I am the fantasy from the past.
I am the mystery, the answer to your “What If”.
The one that you’ll never know.
I am the one who let you use me to find out.
And now I am just a file in the back of your mind.
The mystery gone, I can be forgotten again.
Life goes on because it has to.

For a moment, I was wanted, I was desired.
For that moment I was all you thought of.
And in a heartbeat, it was over,
Never to happen again.

Until another comes along.
Until the next bachelor remembers me.
I’ll know it’s wrong, but it feels so good.

And another piece of my heart will break.

Dischord

2009-03-06T07:42:00.001-08:00

I want to make up my mind to be rid of you.
It just doesn’t want to listen.
I’ve tried any number of things
distracting myself with school, or work, or even choir;
but then you showed up there.
I tried ignoring you, but all that seemed to accomplish was to
make you pay more attention to me
the exact opposite to my plan.

I’ve even tried giving in
allowing those emotions to be nourished and grow.
And what happened?
You used me.
You played me like one of your instruments
a sweet sound whenever the mood struck you, yes,
but I was left with such a painful dischord
when you decided
I wasn’t worth the time
it takes to breathe.
My God is love. What does yours preach? Usury?
Love isn’t patient; it is reckless.
Love isn’t kind; it abandons.
He sang with the tongues of angels,
but he had no love for me,
and he broke my heart.

Cyber Speech

2009-03-06T07:41:00.001-08:00

Why can’t I speak when I see you?
Oh, I can punch the little buttons on my
phone and send out a little message, well-written
and perfectly designed to get your attention.
My fingers seem to have a mind of their own
when they touch a keyboard,
typing out sentences crafted as missiles to
ensnare your imagination.
But, get me alone, in person . . .
My tongue trips over itself.
Proper speech fails.
My brain knows what it wants to say,
but my tongue cannot ever say it right.
In my head, I am witty, charming.
I have a great sense of humour;
You’ll just never know.

H

2009-03-06T07:40:00.001-08:00

Life seems so complicated.
I try to smile, I try to be happy,
To put on a face that others seem to think is appropriate,
Or necessary, even,
But they never work.
Not for me, anyways.
I long for the day I can walk into my church
And not be afraid of who might be there.
I want to go for a walk through Bell Park
And not dread who I might bump into.
She makes me feel small, worthless,
Like I can do nothing of value or importance.
I am no one.
I do not deserve to breathe her air, or drink her water,
Or live on her planet.
There are times when I am ignorant of the
Hatred she pours out towards me,
I live unknowing of the ways she manipulates
The people I call friends, the ways she tries to
Turn them from me.
But of late, and most recently,
Her attempts to avoid me disappeared.
She now walks me by,
Flaunting the guy on her arm.
She passes me, glaring forward with seething
Passion, hoping I will notice how upset she is.
If it is an apology she seeks,
She will not get it – though not for lack of trying.
I cannot speak to her.
She will not let me.
She has decided my fate, and
I have to live with it.

Nieninque

2007-11-27T11:20:00.000-08:00

White.

I look out my window - all I see is white,
and all I can do is smile.
My cheeks upturn, my eyes brighten,
and my mind flashes.

Images of open mouths catching falling diamonds,
racing through blanket covered rocks,
trying to get away from loving arms,
walking home as white lights tumble from
dark skies.

This is my heaven.
Sweaters & scarf, mittens & muffs.
Hot chocolate & fireplaces, saunas & steam,
cuddly sofas and heated seats.

This is paradise.
The sound of new footsteps, an
unhideable trail small houses and
little men on every front lawn.
Houses sparkle in the night,
it falls so early.

This is my time.
No one is unhappy,
the sounds are all songs -
everything is golden white.
As living things fall to sleep
I am wakened to a new life,
a life of crackles and diamonds,
of hot mugs under a warm blanket,
hand holding through wool,
of soft kisses in a softer snowfall.

This is my dream - this is my world.

Gray

2007-11-27T11:00:00.001-08:00

The sky is bleak,
the clouds piles upon piles of gray.
A warm breeze blows,
but I hardly feel it.

I watch the people hurry,
scurrying from one place to another,
fearful of the sun that
threatens to shine through the
darkening canopy above.
I see this all - life passes my eyes,
trees outside a train.
I see it all and I cannot help but smile.
My soul dances with the
leaves on the trees,
our temperament shifting alike.

I feel a sunset,
brilliant yet peaceful,
awe-inspiring yet grave.
This dreary world holds me not.
It cannot contain the magnitude
of my expression, the
otherworldly weightiness of
my melancholy - and yet
all is sum by the joy that
whispers through the speckled
sky, faint echoes of hope,
assurances of life,
worthy life.

These gray clouds cover not my end -
they are the shroud of my beginning.

Strands of Straw

2007-10-15T13:34:00.000-07:00

I rebel against myself.

I follow none of the rules I make;

no ordinance of self do I follow

once I’ve set it forth.

Everyone else must adhere to the

velcro walls I create.

Yet I am boundless.

I soar through unfettered skies,

slipping the surly bonds of Earth

over and over again;

far above the rest of you,

I am free.

In this world I have created,

I am free.

Everything I do,

I seem to do without eyes.

I do not want to see what is

coming towards me,

what lies ahead.

I stumble through my own life,

unseeing, unsure;

unwilling to live this life

I’ve carved out for myself.

I want to be saved.

Saved from myself.

I told myself not to fall in love with you.

I told myself you were no good,

you didn’t care for me.

You only pretend to pay attention;

you need me only to feed your

ego – and I fell into fodder for you.

To you, I am fuel.

I am nothing but

strands of straw,

and for whatever reason,

I’ve allowed

you to burn me,

allowed myself to be burnt.

Is there no one out there able to rescue me?

Or am I not worth saving . . .

Million Dollar Smile

2007-03-14T09:56:00.000-07:00

I want to see it.

Why do you hide?

Why can you not be

happy just being you?

God made you, and

He made you perfect.

But we can only be

perfect once we

realize that we are

perfect in the One who

made us.

We are Perfect in Pure Love.

He loves,

and you are Perfect.

Feb 1/07

The Song

2007-03-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

I sit in my chair, facing forward,
waiting for my cue,
I know I have to wait; it’s
not yet my turn; for once it is right
for the men to go first.
I close my eyes, swaying with
the melody that flows so
sweetly, so smoothly . . .

And then I hear it:

A line of song so pure and
perfect, serene and full of such
wondrous harmony!

I cannot help myself.

I feel it creeping, starting in the
pit of my belly, slowly moving
up my spine, inch by inch,
climbing up towards my heart.
When it hits me, I am gone.

I melt into a sea of bliss,
rolling in the waves of his song.
Rising and falling with each
lilt of his harmony,
I nearly forget myself.

I know that if he were to ask,
I would surrender myself at once,
heart, soul, mind, and body.
If only he would ask,
I would be his forever.
To stay in his song, to
bathe in his melody, to
lie in his harmonies,
O! the music we could create! ---

My eyes open reluctantly,
taking in my lost reality,
and the joy I feel from
creating song seems somewhat
diminished.
I open my book to the right page,
and begin to weave a tune,
half smiling to myself,
because even in the
glorious fullness of the choir,
I can still hear the
purest strain of song,
and in that song
I live.

Emblem

2007-03-14T08:05:00.000-07:00

6 of clubs laying faceup in the snow.

Beside

the home an oyster

once knew. Lost.

Desolate.

Alone. Fir trees bend shadows

from above twinkling lights from

in between the white walls

that hold us from moving.

Snow diamonds shine in the

preafternoon light

wear me on its finger,

the slave to the minority. Logos

change to suit 7 while the

70 times 7 live on in

quiet indifference to the birthright they

abandon.