A fragrant golden snow for you.
I watch the light upon your face,
cast soft shadows of blue.
Keep your head upon my shoulder,
until I go crashing to the ground.
In the night my stars cover your body,
echoing the world's soft sound.
White roses bloom on the sands of the desert,
A rising cloud of pure intent.
To see your eyes reflect the emotion,
I take in your fingertips of content.
Together we run through the veins of time,
And rain falls through the sand.
I light the expanse of the broad sky on fire,
spreading the word throughout the land.
White roses wither in the sands of the desert,
A last stand to be at your side.
I have given to you everything that I am,
holding your tears while you cried.
The moon turns the tides of the sand,
you hold me through the motion.
The roses couldn't have been more right,
we lost each other in devotion.
At nine, it's time once again to air
the prelude to a dream.
I wait, eyes square, for the immaculate
contours of your face to appear:
the features of a lover I'll never meet.
It seems strange to say
(a kind of admission of defeat),
but to be honest I'm OK
with the pause, rewind, replay
that makes up our relationship.
You have to admit,
knowing I'd never flip
channels or walk out when
you're in a scene
is a devotion, of sorts.
I expect nothing in return.
I know you know nothing of me.
But I can't help but love you;
your close-ups, your scripted smile,
the way you lean towards the screen
of your plastic box and speak
only and always to me.
How could I not - a lonely girl,
curled on the sofa - have eyes
only for you? Think of it
(as I do) as a healthy obsession.
Because it's true, I'll say it,
I think you're perfection.
But don't worry: I'm OK with only
watching from afar, only dreaming
of a touch or a kiss. It's enough
for me just to see you on screen
we watched silent films.
you bought an excitable child sweets
with money you couldn't spare.
i often wish
you were still
we hid devotion
in quiet moments.
i had always mocked those
who claimed that
innocence is bliss,
your innocence was blissful.
nearly four years past
but you're still so present
a specter spectator
lying arrogant, indolent
on the sidelines of me;
chaining me close.
v. benjamin ii
your lips were always dry
and you gave up too soon.
when you left, i spent
forty-six sleepless nights
on the living room sofa;
i couldn't go near the bed.
you looked right through me,
searching only for the
in his eyes.
heaven closed up shop
when we passed by;
forever fell ill and fled.
i can't help but wonder
if i haunt your silences
the way you inhabit
when you look in my eyes?
Do you see a devil
Is there not a heart
beating in my chest?
Will your fear ever
be lain to rest?
Are there any
you can trust?
Or will fear
make us a disgust.
Will you hold me
to every wrong
or will you someday
see the right?
I am not a dog
who loves to fight -
I am a dog
who is no different,
I want love and compassion,
to provide you full
I envy those breeds
for which every man loves
I am left in shelters,
a happy dog, still,
and I am forgotten
your hate leaving me ill
in the minds of others
who look for a dog,
I am not the first they seek,
I am the distant monster
in the fog.
I am the one who will tear
the world apart.
I am the one
with the shrunken heart .
I am the one
who will leave you in pain.
I am the one
For it is I,
who through all my
will suffer and mourn,
who will be left behind,
who will be buried.
oh, but I
and worries fill the corner of my mind
as long as You are mine all mine
that's really fine
The earth can crumble
and tumble down to the sea
the skies can turn into dust
if it all really must
as long as I have You here with me
I trust in You, Lord Jesus
Let me go where You go
Tell me what to do and I will do
I would run a thousand miles
just to see You smile
sail into the stormy waters
if it means I get to walk side by side with You my King
I'll do anything
If the sun doesn't shine tomorrow
and the time comes to my final day
come my way
come my way
and take me home
let me go where You go Lord
tell me what to do and I will do
I surrender my life to You
I surrender everything that is mine
For in Your love
The dry grounds will green
tender sweet tulips and roses
uncurl at Your toes
the sky will burst into wine red
and simmer between the pink and blue
All the world will delight
in Your great sight
O sweet Lord
If the sun doesn't shine t
The ice of her skin makes any man cringe
The dark of her hair blots out the sun
Persephone is come; winter has begun.
Down from above, to sit by her King
To her gown the shadows cling
Daughter of life, to death made wife
Leave behind the stillness of a dark winter night.
When she walks the Earth, the green things grow,
Men rejoice, the river Styx runs slow,
And who would think that her evil groom
Would, in his heart, for her make room?
Who could know the loneliness he feels?
Who knows that at her sight, he instantly heals?
Is it possible for death to feel love?
To mourn for his wife, so happy above?
In her heart does she dread the return to his side?
For she was unwillingly made his bride
Now his wait is all but done,
Winter has begun; Persephone is come.
These journeys are begun for reasons
that we soon forget. Some of Adam's kin
jettison little-by-little their sacred selves,
finally separating from the human family to
run mad with the currency of
wild nature's uncharitable law.
But some of the beasts become us;
attached by leash they pull us through parks,
we wrestle them like unruly boys
and dress them in old clothes (forgive us).
And in the darkest night when evil is about
we steady their tattered nerves
when we ourselves are fearful
and thus we find our common tongue
loyalty until death, courage, love.
Why do our hearts flutter at his smile?
How our knees waver at his voice!
See what his hazel stare can do!
Maybe it is because there is none other like him
For he is the perfect man, a shining star
Such a jewel, rare treasure indeed
He can easily steal our hearts and mystify our minds
How we swoon at him in billowing capes
Deafening gasps at dramatic performances
So noble when clutching a sword
And heroic appearing through a storm
O, nothing can break our undying devotion!
Dedicating ourselves is our number one notion!
"Through fire, water, hell."
"I'll come with you," cried Bonnie,
"Through freedom and jail cell."
"I'll be with you," said Bonnie,
"Though by sunrise we'll both have died."
All this Bonnie said proudly,
Because Bonnie truly loved Clyde.
"The journey will be dangerous,"
Said Clyde to her one day.
"You are such a tiny woman,
You might not make it all the way."
But Bonnie loaded up her gun,
And hopped on for the ride.
All this Bonnie did surely,
Because Bonnie surely loved Clyde.
They were pursued through states,
Almost half the entire land,
And robbed quite a few banks.
Their work was skillfully planned.
Then one day as they were driving,
A cop pulled up from behind.
They took out their automatics,
And laughed as Bonnie cried.
She cried not for her own life,
But because her Clyde had died.
And soon she would follow him,
Because Bonnie always loved Clyde.
They weren't buried as they wanted,
Not buried side by side.
But wherever they are, they're together.
Jason knew what he meant . His attitude had been pointing towards it for a long time. Alan McQuaige was gay, and probably had been since day one. That wasnt the problem. The problem was that Jason was not and never would be. Or at least he didnt think so.
Al...this is really weird. I mean, weve been friends for ,like, ever and...and...I dont want to wreck it.
Alan backed off a bit. Just say it Jay. Say your not interested! Stop acting if you really dont like me like that. It wouldnt wreck our friendship, it would just change it.
Confusion was welling up inside of Jasons head. Alan looked sad , with just a glimmer of hope in his pale blue eyes.Could Jason really be what his friend wanted? How did this all start anyways? It was so simple in the beginning. They had
nothing absurd, or obscure,
silent and distant sure,
but never a trace in the blur..
Thriving in depths of the mind
Energized by the comfort
that only silence finds..
Not "shy" or antisocial,
lonesome or woeful..
In tune with my emotions,
I don't lack sociality,
nor live in depravity..
Devotion that never deviates,
an unquestioning Zen state,
that alone I satiate..
Recharging in my quiet place,
to gain strength for the next
...Face to Face...
Truly, there are not words
for just how much that takes..
Some call me strange,
still I pick my battles,
the way some pick their stage..
Life is a journey, not a game
and at the end of the day
we all get there in our own way
Don't mistake my absent nature,
for pain, or disdain
...I'm not insane...
Introversion is simply who I am