Blog Entries
Some of my poems
Category: Member Blogs

Note: These poems are all my own orignial work.† Some of them have been published in other places, so please do not share my work with anyone else without my permission.† Thank you and I hope that you enjoy them.

~Darkling

______________________________

"Departed"

Whisper softly to me, cradled in the night.

Sweet songs of decadence filter out the light.

Cold death and hollow boxes,

Hidden beneath the ground.

Dancing madly, shrouded in darkness,

Tiny feet make not a sound.

Heavy bodies piled high,

Left in heaps, too torn to die.

Blood escapes in crimson pools.

The ground shimmers with ruby jewels.

Ghosts of decades past emerge,

As creatures of the night converge.

A morbid sound then fills the air,

Though not a sound the living hear.

A black cloaked man with ashen face,

Steps slowly forward to set the pace.

Skeletal maids in cobwebbed gowns,

Step from the shadows in great abounds.

Not a corpse, or soul yet to transcend,

At this macabre dance, does not attend.

A hand stretched forth with shrunken flesh,

The aggregation becomes enmeshed,

And welcomes new, a life expend,

To somber arms, an all-pervading end.

Bare feet upon the graveyard soil,

Our newly dead does release the mortal coil.

And to this one is then endowed,

Eternityís garb, a gossamer shroud.

Pulled against deathís comforting breast,

Our decedent is now laid to rest.

The moon shines down from a starry sky,

The dancers depart as the end draws nigh.

Passing through, with a mournful song,

Dead, or lost, but never gone.

____________________________________________________

"Arielle"

She walked alone
beneath the moon,
in a gown of emerald silk...
Her hair was wound,
in a crimson crown
and her skin was
made of milk...

Her slippered feet moved
along the silent, sand stone way...
She walked among the garden flowers,
as she eagerly awaited day...

She rested now upon a stone,
set near a lonely shed,
which had never known the living,
for it only housed the dead...

There is no peace to be had
in a garden so full of sorrow...
So silently, in darkness,
she waits until tomorrow...

Shadows moving throughout the night
desperately she prayers for light...

Thoughts of things left undone,
dreams of joys that
never come...

faceless specters haunt her mind,
memories from a forgotten time...

Feverish dreams of forlorn youth,
Nightmares stirring forgotten truth...

The garden glows in the moonlit air,
as she recalls he, who once stood there...

Looking down upon a covered hole,
mourning a child that sleeps below...

Amber light approaches, as the
dark of night is done...

The lady lifts her face to the horizon,
as she tearfully greets the sun...

Her ghost pale flesh ignited,
as the suns sharp rays bite her skin...

What once was is gone now;
our lady shall not weep again...

Crimson tears will fall no more,
as the flames of day embrace her...

She glimpses loves true face,
in a distant place,
as the one who went before,
awaits her...

What once had been is gone,
no more pain of need or lust...

Sweet release has finally found her,
as Lady Arielle, has gone to dust.

_________________________________________________

"My secret place"

Thereís a place I go to be alone

Where my friends all sleep beneath silent stone

Where the grass is brown and the trees forebode

Where no one ages though all are old

A place where we remain opaque

A place you sleep but never wake

A place I come to vent my fear

Although I know no one can hear

A place where I feel that I belong

Among those who are long since gone

A place where Iíll not be mocked, or turned away

A place where I think I would like to stay

This place is where Iím at my best

A place where I can finally rest

Acceptance here is what I crave

This place is where Iíll make my grave

And hope one day Iíll see

That those who live will visit me

And not forget the love Iíve shown

To those I never met but have always known

But if you never come to see my stone

Do not feel bad for Iím not alone

Iíll be just one more within this place

A forgotten name, a forgotten face

And in this place where I come to roam

Is where Iíve finally found my home


________________________________________________________

"A Brighter Darkness"

A brighter darkness corrupts me
Resentment grows within my mind
I cannot shake this feeling washing over me
I think I'm running out of time.

Sorrow fuels my hatred
It's so damn dark now I cannot see,
I want to scream in rage and claw my way
Out of the darkness...
What's this power taking hold of me?

I sleep away the hours,
Afraid to face the coming day.
My heart can't take this aggravation,
I don't know what more to say.

Life's become so overwhelming,
There's so much I'm supposed to be...
I have enough to fucking deal with,
so don't you put your shit on me!

I'm falling fast into the darkness
That has seeped into my heart.
The dark of night embraces me,
As your quiet animosity is slowly
Ripping me apart.

The chaos that you leave behind surrounds me
There is nothing more that I can do.
I cannot sink into your darkness,
Despair has placed its icy hands on you.

I will concede to nothing,
No one can ever take control of me.
I am a man of careful deliberation,
A master of my own destiny.

I see the storm that now approaches,
Though itís something I know I cannot fight...
Still, I will find a brighter darkness,
And one day walk into the light.

Poem: He Never Brought Me Violets
Category: Member Blogs
Tags: Poem Spring

He Never Brought Me Violets


The same grocery bouquet

in a fast food cup,

and he looks away

but he never brought me violets.


Hours he spent in the yard.

Hours I spent in my bathroom.

I tried so hard

but he never brought me violets.


We sit silent day by day.

While he journals I'm alone,

patient in the noisy cafe,

though he never brought me violets.


Sleep deprived in my best corset,

I smile at his arm

as he greets friends on his circlet.

Still he never brought me violets.


I walked alone to greet the dawn.

He ran alone for vanity.

Dainty purple speckles spring lawns,

yet he never brought me violets.


The same grocery store bouquet

(never in a vase)

and he looks away.

Why couldn't he bring me violets?


In the summer fling

someone else didn't look away.

Now in the spring

I never wait for a man to bring me violets.

*****************************************************

Spring, in my mind at least, isn't really hear till the wood violets go into bloom. Anyone who really knows me could tell you the wild Wood violet flower is one of my all time favorites, including any boyfriend or lover I have ever had. Despite my love for the bloom being right out in the open AND it being FREE!!! in every place I have ever lived I have to pick it myself if I want it. Seriously, ex-guys, gardeners can't get rid of it when they want to and it comes up in sidewalk cracks. All you had to do was bend over.

Even if you don't have time to stop and smell the flowers in your area, don't get so caught up in the grind that you stop noticing that there still are flowers to smell.

Echo of Nature Worship: Yulin's Solstice Feast
Category: Member Blogs
Tags: Human Rights Animal Rights Religion

China. It's a strange and special place throughout history. Religion and conflict over it is about as old as dirt, and China has had plenty of it's share, and it's part of why religion bans that came with communism made sense. Even now, the Chinese are not nearly as unified as one may think without religious divides. Dogs as food is also nothing new, nor was it ever isolated to Asia. When prey animals ran short, a hunting hound may end up dinner any place where hunting hounds were kept, and when the sheep fell to sickness or food shortage, the herding dog would take their place when families had to survive the winter.

This makes the 'dog and lychee' festival rather important, culturally speaking. Food is the center of the solstice festival, making it VERY familiar to pagans. Yes, there is violence too, but in any tradition we can track, violent sacrifice is often part of it's oldest form. For most of the more visible non-christian paths the violent aspects have died out, but bull fighting has not and also comes from very pagan food and fertility rights. Side by side, modern dog and lychee festival in China and bull fighting are not that far removed from each other, and the Chinese word for 'offering' is even written with the character for 'dog' in it.

Naturally, the Chinese government will not admit to any of this because the money made is more important than the religion ban.

Given the suppression that many fertility and harvest based festivals have gotten in the Christian dominated era and China's ban on religion, I find it hard to condemn a shred of traditional worship slipping through the cracks of government control. We are talking about a nation where dissidents, such as Christians and Buddhists, can not only be arrested for faith, but also killed to be carved up as organ donors LEGALY. Yes, the cruelty to the ANIMAL bothers me, but the HUMAN RIGHTS issues bother me more. To me, comfortably sitting in America at a computer and getting outraged over a distasteful spiritual path would be easy, yet in China the notion of a path at all is something of a spiritual revolution.

In days past, a food used since 1700 B.C. would have been bread and well cared for just as any live stock would be. Wounded and underfed animals don't live as long or get as big, so it was in primitive farmers best interest to be attentive. Suppression of the historic context and modern apathy in the meat industry have corrupted what began as a celebration of natures bounty, just as any meat we use for our own holy days may be corrupted if we don't personally know the farmer who raised and butchered it. Despite that, a sense of community and reverence still linger in a feast day for us all.

So it's hard for me to condemn China's feast, no matter how savage it seems on the surface. It may be a loss for animal rights, but in a nation where American Christian Missionaries can vanish into thin air without any questions, this may be a step in the right direction for human rights.

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