=Roslyn — Perched atop a harbor Otherwise nondescript, Sits a charming little village Straight from history's pages ripped. Colonial whitewashed buildings Line the narrow street, That boasts historic character Circa the eighteenth century. These wood frame buildings painted white With gold trimmed lettering Are quaint old structures, well preserved Against the years of weathering. A post office on the far end Stands across a bank, While a lumberyard, a tavern, And restaurants are by shops flanked. The street's most distinctive feature, A stout tower of stone, Resembles a huge chessboard rook Crowned with a clock that time intones. And this is how I recall it, Roslyn, where I lived; From my rides upon the schoolbus This is what my memory sieved.
=Delirium Into a warm night of wonder and mist I drifted with no end in mind. I was soon lost but the Fates did assist And led me to a sentry find. A giant that loomed skeletally thin, The sentinel stood bowing low; A great archangel it, too, could have been, Its head illumined by halo. It stood towering many meters tall, Its holiness lighting my way — A phantasmal glow that outlined a ball Of pale fire, shadowy and grey. I stood staring, in thrall to its presence And the awesome sight before me: Gathered above in their spectral essence Was a horde of bantam faeries. Their wings wildly flitting, those ashen beings Exulted in the sentry's light. A swarm of thousands, I thought I was seeing; Their myriad forms shimmered bright. Captivated by this fantastic scene, I gazed upward 'til I grew weak; Against the sentinel's leg I then leaned, To stay there was all I did seek. I had no aim when I'd wandered that night, But Atropos had been my guide; She'd led me to behold a stirring sight, The last sight before I died.
=Romanticism If for a reason we could not foretell, I had to bid farewell,... Would you then wait for me, my friend? Or will that signify our end? By my absence, would you be hurt? Or will you with other girls flirt? Would your affections wane and cool? Or will your love be ever fueled? Would you decide 'twas for the best? Or remain under love's behest? Will you be always true? Or would you forget me for someone new?
=Anti-Hero So pretty a boy should never have been — It seemed unforgivable sin. If goddesses wrathful punished the fair, Then surely he'd some vain god dared. He might've been made to spar hideous beasts, But he had somehow a truce pieced: In exchange for beauty and body whole, He would pay the price with his soul.
=Sonnets (Attempted) <h4>i.</h4> If I were ever to ponder just why, Why is it that I've grown to adore him, I would realize the question is not why, But rather, how could I've not cared for him? His is a soul that is thoughtful and kind — And understanding, sensitive, and sweet. A more devoted friend I could not find, Or one with a mind so agile and fleet. Delightfully clever and droll is he; Brilliant intelligence shows in his wit. And cheer, too, he exudes in high measure, Though he ascribes his jollity to me. We gladden each other, and thus well fit — It's no wonder that him I so treasure. <h4>ii.</h4> In quiet moments, in my private thoughts, I've oft wondered of many an odd thing, but lately I ponder why I'm so wrought, and what I now find in my heart budding. And guessing its nature I ask my self how did I reach this precarious point? For, as if my life were not in itself a disarray, I've to a boy conjoined comfort and cares, my deepest affection, all that's hopeful, anything I can share. A strange miracle is our connection — I safeguard this bond so precious and rare, but still I can't help but wonder just how I've found this nirvana where I am now.
=Blackout <h4>i.</h4> The power's out; It's now dark out, And darker still within... How nice seems now a TV's din — It's comfort I'd forgot. So with me now To light endow Flare four little candles; But true brightness they can't handle, And they are burning low. Already gone Since yesterdawn Is my telephone line... Now I can't reach that friend of mine, When for his mirth I long. <h4>ii.</h4> Two candles are lavender — Their scent is so pretty. Vanilla wafts from the yellow ones That smell so sweet. Votive candles that melt Hollow bowls around charred stems; Ever dissolving, diminishing... Soon they'll be gone. <h4>iii.</h4> I've grown too used to amenities, To modern basic luxuries, That lacking these accommodations Feels like the worst deprivation.
=Blackout II <h4>i.</h4> Powerlessness is the most awful condition; I feel unable to fend off the dark. And like a monstrous, most ravenous predator, Darkness knew to move in and his prey mark. From within a cold cage so stark and forbidding, I see him through bars of vertical blinds. He is everywhere, skulking outside and within, Leering as ever more closely he winds. <h4>ii.</h4> I'd never known such a primeval night; It might have been two centuries ago. First the phone line had gone, and then the lights — Such deprivation seemed awful to know. With the phone went time with friends I would spend, While no electricity meant no heat. And batteries that on recharge depend, Were useless once their brief charges'd deplete. A night in dark isolation I'd passed, Covered in layers against bitter cold. In vain, I'd hoped the blackout would not last — How did people survive in days of old?
=The Cabal A dense meshing of skeletal tree limbs Eclipsed the forest floor below; But stumbling, I hastened through those woods dimmed And made my way to the dying sow. Her screams I'd heard from the carriage far off That had paused to let the steeds rest. <i>A child!</i> I'd thought — I'd thrown my blanket off And rushed at my scruples' behest. But in stead of a babe, I found a beast Tied down to an altar of stone; Standing near, consuming a grisly feast, Were five men wearing masks of bone. Four men were swathed in druidic attire, But the fifth was uniquely clad. Dressed in black vestments, he seemed to rank higher; His death's head had been streaked in red. Ghastly lit by a huge bonfire blazing, They devoured gored chunks of raw meat. Watching, I felt as though I were dazing — Frozen — unable to retreat. From my place in the shadows, I observed As the leader began a chant. That poor sow suffered a fate undeserved; 'Til he sliced her throat in his rant. I remained transfixed as that tortured squeal Died to a gurgle, then no more. Her blood he drained before it could congeal — Gleaming red was on dark stone poured. His four attendants joined in the chanting, Swaying in their impassioned rapture. In the weird light, they were almost panting; I stayed despite fear of capture. The hot flames danced higher as if to their cries; The bonfire became a great tower. And I know not what then guided my eyes — My watch showed 'twas the midnight hour. Their chanting rose to a frenzied zenith, 'Til I was amazed to perceive Emerging from the fire a behemoth, A threat too monstrous to believe! I wanted to scream then, but I kept still; I'd a morbid urge to view them. Though I knew they'd wooed evil by their will, I sought to witness, not condemn. The demon stepped forth on two cloven feet, On knees that would bend the wrong way. He stood enormously tall, yet was fleet; His powerful barbed tail could skin flay. A torso as his I'd never since seen Or before that terrible night. Hirsute all over and mighty he'd been; His curved horns seemed to emit light. His face was revoltingly hideous With traits of both demon and man; Yet it held an intrigue insidious, And forget it I never can. Was this the Devil, Satan incarnate? What had these men manifested? Loathing awe I felt; his presence bore it — He was with vile charm infested. The devil roared loudly, as if in glee To have been set loose on the world. And to my horror, his eyes fixed on me, As he cried, "Fetch me that spying girl!" Quick to obey, the four henchmen closed in, Before I could turn to escape; I was brought before that creature of sin, Who then seized me by my neck nape. That last lucid moment, I wondered why I'd charged into the woods alone. Were harm being done, I could have scarce defied Some brute, much less make him atone. And I sensed just then that I'd been a pawn Lured to that unholy cabal. All my life would be changed, come the next dawn; For innocence, 'twas a death knell. What happened then, I can't truly recall, Though the fiends vanished with the light, But several months later, I was appalled To bear spawn conceived that cursed night.
=Make-Believe If I could exist in a fantasy, A place of boundless imagination, In this realm where most anything can be, These would be the regulations: I would choose to be an all-powerful seer — Or if I did not have omnipotence, I shall in full list what I can do here In the order of my preference... My mind will control physical matter; Objects I'll hurl with the force of my will. With a wave, I could whole windows shatter, And make shards dance upon the sill. When I lift my arms, my body shall rise; Into the air I'll be able to soar. I shall journey high above in the skies — The earth will constrain me no more. People's thoughts I will know in an instant; From me, no falsehoods can ever be kept. Whether they be disloyal or constant, I shall know when I've their minds swept. Yet I myself can create illusions That cannot be distinguished from the real; People will perceive only those visions That I will let them view and feel. If by now I did not too much demand, I'll add this as well to the litany: The winds and clouds will be at my command — The storms and the seas shall heed me. And I'd request my own island, castle, And fair-ruled kingdom of only true friends — Endless youth, too, if it's not a hassle... And here's where my wee wish list ends.
=Cold Icicles formed on my skeleton — or so it seems by how sluggish I feel, by the relentless chill that's suddenly possessed me from skin to bone. Every one of my organs has been encased in ice. My hands sport thick gloves of cold with icy sheathings daintily tailored around each of my bony fingers. It's so damned cold!! And yet it's not — my melodramatic shell just acts as if it is. I really wish it would quit being so stupid. Oh, the joys of fever: Sour phlegmatic scent in my nostrils, Acrid telltale taste on my tongue. And now the cannonade of coughs...