Lake of Opacity

napowrimo day 24

“The Great Reptile” is said to have emerged from those waters.

“Cold waters in which life dies,” and that cannot be true

For I have pulled out the very monster out of there

With my bare hands,

And I live.

 

(But hands shake when I remember the moment.

And that day is a blur for me.

The image captured of me, standing tall and straight-back

Does not seem like me.)

 

And I look at the cold, hard skin, diamond-like pattern

And it sings to me, “Sleep. And remember your dreams.

For that’s all you’ll have left of yourself.”

Destiny

napowrimo day 23

Step to the side, curve the spine to

Dodge my blade

At you neck, you are dead to the world

And no ritual will bring you back.

 

Your hand brushes my cheek, nails

Have blood under them, you spread them

Over innocent skin, but it’s too late

The poison is in your system.

 

You never seem to learn that you cannot

Have me and desire me, it is only one

Or the other, destiny is not kind to you

For I will always live without you.

 

And if I mourn you, it will only last a day

I seem to forget you so quickly.

Fates

napowrimo day 22

 

If life were to be easily split into two choices,

Like heads or tails,

It would be simple, in theory.

But we get into the mindset of

“Make your own path!”

And that brings us to a third choice

But to callously dismiss our fate like that

Is to forgot our nurtured nature

Morals will destroy your paths

And no logic or civility can repair it.

Just let the fourth choice kidnap you,

Coerce you,

Into your future.

Remember

Napowrimo day 21

 

Remember, for a day you will be young again.

Your skin will smooth over to resist

The radiant path of light aimed to thrill

The darkest of worlds, the tiniest of lands.

Hands that trembled in the wind now grasp

An infant’s hand to protect them from the chill

Which one sent you to bed for weeks end.

Hair, lush and dark with no signs of ending or fraying

Like what your mind used to do each night.

The threads of memory, now, those

Will always fail you.

 

You won’t remember your glory returned

For even I cannot return to you what once

Was never yours.

Mirror (with no handles)

napowrimo day 20

‘Make me in your image’, it was said

But when someone is made, what are they

Filled with?

 

(Do we get to eat them afterwards?

Consume their breath?

Take their lives and join them

With ours?)

 

But the analogy will never work.

A beating heart can never represent

A being who looks at you with such fervor

(Such hate)

Such want

(Such terror)

Such care

(Such apathy, from you)

All of that can hurt you, deeply

And it will consume you.

 

The Dance of the Wind

napowrimo day 19

It blows my mind how many times

I’ve been courted today.

The sun bored down on me for what seemed to be

Forever and ever but so quickly

I forgot its’ intense gaze on my neck

I had a cool breeze on me without stop,

Relentless in its mission to calm me,

Soothe me, make my guard go down.

Yet, I can’t enjoy such an intimate gift for

It was unnatural, so unpractical so of course it was spread

Among to others, who don’t stop and enjoy such

Rare gifts, given for the seduction

Of one being.

 

Look, but don’t see

napowrimo day 18

Let me take a deep breath and not think at all-

(Of course, sir, madam, why every day I take a brown sponge

And rub it up, down, everywhere I can, the liquid stains my skin

And then I proceed to eat it and have it change my vocal chords

Suddenly I can speak a foreign tongue somewhat fluently)

I just want to lay down, and relax, not think of anything-

(Why sir, madam, this isn’t a permanent thing, why you caught me!

I ain’t the real thing, of course, I see the whites of your eyes and can believe

That you are more of that than me, despite the fact you are the camouflage

Passing unnoticed ‘til your screeches alert us, unfortunately

Of who you are)

Who am I, really, to let myself become worked up like this?

 

(Let in a mouthful of cold air,) I think

(let the raging hear out) I close my eyes

Sometimes I wish it were easy to completely rip that off me

But that’ll just be a victory for you and I am not

A crowd-pleaser

—–

note: I finished this at midnight exactly but I’m counting it for day 18

(double poems)

napowrimo day 16 & 17

A STORM

Flow through me, waters of the day

Let peace never part from me

Rains, above me ready to storm me

Take me, take me away

And bring me the calm I will always have

Before I storm, even though

There’s no reason to.

No reason so destroy.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**********&&&&&&&&&&&&&

T H E  K O I  L O R D

(I bow down to worship)

And the koi fish swims on, ignoring all

It emerges from its water barrier, and pierces air

And nothing stops it, unmovable creation

Thrust into human air, it should poison it

(our lord stops at nothing, everything will bow)

No chafing, no sensitivity dulls its all-seeing eyes

And I was stunned, as everyone robotically obeyed

But I brought no wrath

(my awe was enough to placate it)

But I knew no fear

For the koi knew me with one look.

 

—-

note: I had a anime con event & it was being held in a Japanese museum & gardens so…

empty hands

napowrimo day 15

Start off with a bowl of grains,

And watch it evolve into a hot mess.

You let it simmer & boil under a careless eye,

Hunger doesn’t even call you in.

 

You, a child’s attempt at a conqueror,

Want more and more for no reason.

 

You, a being with no morals or shame,

Will stick a dirtied hand into the communal pot.

 

And the searing liquid does not even alarm you.

What does in the fact that your hands are too small

To contain every single grain.

 

Start off with a handful of grains,

Burning weak human flesh so tenderly,

You can’t even react to the blessed

People coming to end you.

Tithe (except not really)

napowrimo day 14

A dominating stance that is posed in front of me

You weakly attempt to block the sun, and do a poor job of it.

(I don’t want the rays of hell to burn me so stand up, don’t slouch)

And you do nothing except breathe my air

Expelling your foul stench everywhere.

 

You block my way; I am a (not poor) merchant

With goods to sell, a living to support

And with a greedy eye you claim my entire cart

For your own (how did you even come to that thought?)

And in that moment, nothing is said other than

Your heavy breathing expelling a foul stench everywhere.

 

My answer isn’t immediate, but simple:

(I ran you over with my cart, end of tale.)

I go around you, for there is no tollbooth, no proper path.

Your indignation is amusing, so exciting.

And you act like I’ve smacked a god in their face.

(You’ll see me move so fast to be away from the stench)

 

(And if you dare stop me again I’ll make you believe

That I’ve destroyed the known world with my bare hands.)