Untitled #3 - a poem
UNTITLED #3
Blue and grey
A pleasant day
Not much to say
I’ll go away.
Wandering - a poem
WANDERING
Scapes and scenes
Disjointed dreams
Flying skies
Sacred slumbers in my eyes
Soaring, weeping without tears
Unaccounted for fears
In the pain of labor, the heart
Threatens to tear apart
And bears a stillborn ache
An empty, wistful wake
That ripples and mists
Becoming a spray that drifts,
Wanders and finds
Desolated scapes and designs
Lost tunes and missing notes
Abandoned conversations
Forgotten words
And forsaken quotes.
A DREAM
It was the future and I was a princess on a planet that had used up most of its resources. It had a small population, and one of the main streets was made out of grey metal, walls of it painted yellow with red markings on it. Since there were low resources, the only way you could get food was if you brought trash to these recycling machines. I was dressed in a black beaded gown. I brought a few empty metal containers and put them in the machine and “ordered” a melted ham and cheese sandwich. The food was actually really good.
A little girl came from the past, by accident we think, but one of the men who worked for me, O’Brien, recognized her as his daughter. Her name was Molly. She was about six or seven, and had grown up with no memory of a father. O’Brien didn’t tell her he was her father, but they bonded immediately. She became the ‘darling’ of the small group of men who worked for me, and the twelve of us often did things together.
At one point I went to the bathroom, and the toilet was filled with blood. I kept trying to flush it, but it was plugged up. I finally gave up and went to the mirror, but my mouth was full of blood too. I spat it out and bared my teeth, and they had all turned blue. I left and returned to the group, and no one noticed.
The twelve of us all sat in a circle in a palace room and played a Disney game together where we each represented a character. I don’t remember who any of us pretended to be, but O’Brien eventually had to leave to go do some work, so he decided that his character died, and he left. The little girl’s character had been his character’s daughter. When he left, she got very quiet and uninvolved. I realized that for the first time in her life she had a real father, and felt like she did.
Later we were all back together again, and Molly was happy. We were all eating sandwiches, and she had plain cheese, and we were all taking turns telling Molly how much we loved her and how we’d always be there for her if she ever needed any help. She was glowingly happy, and then O’Brien put his arms around her and promised that he would always be with her; even if he died, he would always be with her. She started screaming “No, no, you already left once when you left my family! And you died again yesterday when we were playing together! You can’t die again, it’s not fair!” He realized that both times she had been seriously traumatized, even in the game. He felt horrible and held her while she cried, not knowing what to say.
*Little* Austin (Pierson) - a poem
*LITTLE* AUSTIN (PIERSON)
To my dearest, lovely sister
A lady of the truest sort
And her noble, gracious husband
A knight with a gallant, golden heart.
I know you must feel awed
Humbled and mystified
When you consider your gift from Jehovah
But if I may speak for those who love you
Then I must thank you
For finding each other
For finding love
And someone with whom to share your soul
For creating a new life together
A child born out of the depths of your hearts
A rare and beautiful treasure
Who is not only a gift to you
But a gift to everyone who loves you.