I know not how
The Heaven's above
Breathe that vow
In which all life,
Sings without care
Sweetness in the
When shall it rain
Down from the skies
To relieve the yearning
Of my deepest cries?
Insane NormalityDon't fit me in your form
For i'm far from the norm
Don't try to contain
All that's in my brain
makes us insane
"In a mad world,
only the mad are sane"
DreamsWhat wonders the imagination can bring
With opened ear and untamed eye
Dreams that we shall toss and fling
And float about towards the sky
By luminous light of thought
Day and night will awaken newly
And become what you have sought
To find your most distant Thule
Never letting go of that which we cherish
The spirit of innocence and truth
Why without it, what would we but perish?
In the darkness of lost youth
Memento VivereWhen we’re old and decaying
And our souls set free
Our limbs will become trees
And from out those trees
Our fingers form leaves
And from out our mouths
That will form into birds
And these birds will fly
To the peak of the sky
And sing songs that ring
That sift through the breeze
The CorridorCreak Creak.
The wooden steps beneath my feet as I walk deeper down the dungeons corridor. The light of the lantern above leads me, though I know not where. Brick laid walls are all I see, the dimensions seemingly coming closer with each step.
Turning and turning, lower and lower.
Haunting vibrations echo through my eardrums, as a shrill noise sends chills down my spine. Bellowing voices call out below, like cries from the depths of hell.
Further still, I venture.
My fingertips touch the bricks; a thick slimy liquid coats each curvature. A grotesque odor permeates through the ghastly couloir, getting heavier with each loathsome gait. Soon enough, I recognize it as that of sulfur.
Luminous flickering light reflect against the bricks, confirming the fiery sulfuric smell.
The light brightens into a blinding glow.
At last, I reach the end of the corridor. The light stands before me, and nothing more.
Autumn HomeThe wistful wind
The tide of the trees
The red and gold color
Of crisp fallen leaves
The vast green floor
And blue tapestries
Blew right through me
With the gentle breeze
My peaceful heart
Knows its home
This great rock
Of which I roam
Grief of a GhostThe light I always imagined
The transportation I have longed
Have not come of this new state
What have I done to be so wronged?
All around me has not changed
The house I always knew
And the walls the same color
The air the same hue
Yet when I lift my hand
In front of my cold face
I see right through the figure
Barely a line left to trace
As I take a step, or clench my fist
I feel my limbs as floating gossamer
My whole form is but a mist
I never imagined it would be like this
When I ceased to exist
I hear in the next room
Cries of weep and woe
Familiar cries of my mother, my father
But never of such unequalled sorrow
Quickly I rush into the room
To see lament so loathsome
I place my hand on my father's shoulder,
To the shock I can't help but succumb
No touch have I felt
My hand has gone right through
As if nothing was there
Can this horror be true?
Loudly I call out his name
Doesn't seem to hear
I cry out, louder louder, still
Does he not know I'm here?
My blood houses the melody,
My skin the harmony,
My being the complete symphony
I am the creator and the created,
The art and the artist
Sounds creating a vast canvas in my mind
It’s painterly waves submit imprints
Increasing tenfold in sharp echoes
While floating and drifting through tandem thoughts
Stringed voices dance through my striatum
Overwhelming and audible, all I can do is
Compositions of no other kind inhabit and entwine
Makeshift life folds into misty transparencies
I’m never by myself
When I have myself with me
Finding a friend I need,
Who understands how I feel
Expresses what my words cannot,
Makes my unseen feelings real
Fills my soul with such richness,
Reaches in the very depth of me
Suddenly bringing me out of this melancholy,
Or giving it peacefully back to me
Walking through city streets,
This feels like home
Through these alleys I wander and roam
Painting on concrete walls,
Expressing the bitter and sweet
I know w
IllusionsHow crazy these delusions,
That arise in sheer confusion
For half-asleep it sets in my mind,
An eternity where thoughts are unconfined
Sense it makes when in this state,
But soon a reminder follows
A quick awakening brings reality, returns normality
To this half-deluded mind
As if to ever find,
Some sort of conclusion
What is normality, but an illusion?
Come Away, Come AwayCome away, come away
As I lazily lay
It was the last day in the month of May,
When it said come away, come away
Still I sit, never flit, out of wit
In my chair in the middle of nowhere
To go anywhere, I surely do care
But still I sit there, in the middle of nowhere
I can't find the strength
As I lie at full length
In this bed that I dread
But still it said,
From far far away,
Come away, come away
Like a daunting whisper, it taunts
Never leaving me, it haunts
To grant me needed ambition,
Or supply me with intuition
Carry me away, I say,
Take me away, so far far away
I can no longer stay in this chair and lay
Let me explore, I implore
The endless shore and so much more
Let me see, I plea
All that thee have made for me
Let me out, I shout
Out of this route of endless doubt
Come away, Come away
I still hear it say
Even to this day
It will never cease to say,
Come away, come away
ScarsYou see the scars across his face.
A knife pulled across his cheek.
You see the scars all over her body.
Flames raged, her body ablaze.
You see the scars on his arm.
Where he slid over the tarmac.
You see the scars which are her knees.
With which she fell upon the floor.
You see the scars over his eye.
The knife took it away.
You see the scars on her legs.
Which she has cut so many times.
You don't see the scars in their minds.
Of all the words they heard.
A Night of CrowsSoul dark her eyes bleed obsidian, like a fever of liquid-shadows,
seeking her lover damned…
And a myriad of talons will seed the sky — a primeval calling
of necromancy and lust untamed
Upon her breath, I whispered softly in winged-caress:
"cast thy nightscapes unto the ache of gossamer streams"
So she closed her eyes and her demon lover hungered long..
— Forever the Crow — shimmering in her darkest dreams
— Arthur Crow © 2012
Why?Tell me, why do I play with the sound of your name at night?
Why do I savor the syllables as they hover off of my mouth?
Why do I close my eyes and think about what would happen if I just up
and kissed you?
Why do I paint these vivid pieces in my head
these zealous images of your lips, your hips
the artful incline of your nose, and cheeks, and acorn eyes.
Why do I crave any form of affection from you?
A subconscious touch on the arm,
a brush of hands in the hallway
And on the most beautiful of days,
Why is it that I thirst of something from you--
anything at all,
when I know deep down inside that this idea of
you and me becomeing
we will never happen.
Why must I be tortured so?
If it destined that our fingers will never lace like the complex
notes of a three piece symphony
That I will never know how soft your lips really are, or how they taste
like fresh honey dew from the depths of spring
That I will never know the warmth of your hips in my hands
like baked mittens
GreenFor a moment there I had you
Grasped within a scuffled palm
Breathing gently beneath my tulip skirts
Then the winds rose again
And you left as quickly as you came:
A rustle of foliage, dancing with a tumultuous gravity
"Ill be back for you come spring."
Quatrain IIWriting in vain my sorrow with my tears
that I am responded by the watchful;
alas, none comprehend save a noteworthy handful -
The rest disowned these cries of despair...
An Oath to My Father
An Oath to My Father:
The chill of winter is nothing, when compared to the cold inside my heart.
A fire, once stoked by the warmth of family, has quietly died, five falls past.
I dream of my father, who watches from beyond the realms - and my ancestors
Who fought against an endless army of giants, to win the lands we have today.
Just as a devout man honours his God through worship, I honour them through my axe!
Each stroke of the whetstone, each screech of the metal, brings me closer to them -
Even as I draw closer to my doom. Oh how I can feel him, for the anger in my blood
Boils evermore as I sense him approaching my camp. He is hungry, he is eager;
Slacks of drool hang from his twin mouths, as a jarring roar shakes the mountain!
Though I shiver at the sight, it is not from fear - I shiver in anticipation
Of the battle that is to come. My steel may rend his flesh and break his bones;
Or perhaps I shall be sent to glory - but it is useless to think about such things,
FrostI am devouring chaos,
chasing it down with winter's chill.
Spare me your fingerprints,
summer's lovechild. Those knowing owl eyes
have me second guessing the wild churning
in my bones. You are the sleep that sweeps
my eyelashes, drowning me in my own daydreams.
When was it...
that you plastered yourself to my ribcage?
The Days of Your LiesToday was the first day of your lies.
The day you first said that you loved me.
You started as you meant to go on,
Deliberately stringing me along.
I was as blind as you hoped that I would be.
Today was the worst day of your lies.
The day you said you'd always love me.
But all that I really was to you,
Was a plaything - and I had no clue.
You showed me what I wanted to see.
Today was the best day of your lies.
The day you said there was no-one else.
The way your smile faltered that day,
Was the one thing that gave you away.
Then I saw you for your true self.
Today was the last day of your lies.
The day I told you we were through.
And even though all your sweet lies,
Painted an illusive paradise,
I know that I will never miss you.
He Loves Me NotA rose sat on the table,
He promised it would never die,
And when it was worn and withered,
I did not cry.
It's not what I expected,
I knew the rose would not grow,
Into a lumbering, majestic tree,
That in the wind would flow.
The petals fell, one by one,
Browned under the burning sun,
Scattered across the table and chairs,
Worn and withered without a care.
And when the rose finally snapped,
I let out a deep sigh,
The weight of the world,
Broke its' neck,
But I did not cry.
I already knew what to think,
When I saw your face,
But I learned how not to speak,
When it wasn't my time or place.
I played your little game,
And we had a bit of fun,
But now we're driving in the other lane,
And all is said and done.
My shoulders are turned in,
The petals fall from my hand,
The ocean washes them away,
Down on the sand.
I know this wasn't planned,
And it didn't last too long,
But it's hard to pretend,
That I am still strong.
A rose sat on a grave,
He promised it would never die,
And when it was wor
A Mother's LetterDear Son,
I'm afraid it's just as bad
as was reported -
that your Uncle Sven has been deported
for unspeakable crimes
with the neighbor's cat.
Also, you should know that
your fiance was found undressed
with your sister's boyfriend, Fred -
no one but the family knows.
I hope this letter finds you well.
Oh, I forgot to tell you
that your father has to sell
his gun collection
to make bail
for Uncle Tim,
whose chasing tail
will be the death of him.
And your sister, Alice,
has grown so thin.
We think it's all that heroin
they laced the Girl Scout cookies with
(it's just an urban myth
that they're a leftist group).
Your Auntie Kate has found a hobby -
collecting body parts in jars
(we hope they are not ours -
your brother has been missing
since last Wednesday.)
They had to have your cousin, Gwendolyn, committed.
She'd been appearing so dimwitted
lately at her job
and there was that messy little incident
involving her and the company president
(something about a prostitution ring in Mexico).
StonesThese stones, once enchanted, now leave no trace
of a distant magic in a foreign tongue -
just dream-prints left to carve this place.
A stranger breed has now begun
and left its tracks amidst this space,
the souls left blinking without a sun.
History spared time's rude grace.
We leave our prayers among the bones.
Bittersweet and green,
simple in its mien,
Potent bloom and sheen,
pressed on lips so clean,
Poison felt so keen
hangs her life between.
Now let winter's spell
seek out the newly hung moon
and transform the sky.
Late HarvestScattering chickens in the yard
Uncle Luke collects the eggs
and up in the silo,
I smell smoke.
The barn feels like family
gathering up the autumn leaves
for a party.
I rake the hay
for what must be
the hundredth time,
wondering why the fences
have wandered across
where the children
pluck apples and pumpkins
and watch November grow large
on our horizon.
Into the WoodsThe world looks
very different today -
the old cabin
by the creek
has moved once more,
taken itself to higher ground,
and the deer have left
to haunt the hollow,
their haunches quivering
like rising sap.
We venture out, knowing
we will lose our way again,
waiting for dogs
to ambush our feet
as we cut a path
through the sumac
the reeds breathe minnows
through the cold blister
rushing through the trees.
Your hand closes,
a lonely animal in mine,
and the leaves
can smell our fear
thick as spoor
while we pick our way
through the thickening blur
wondering which way
is true north.
A Letter to Lily, unsent*~Note: This is not part of "Forever and Always," it is a vignette in memory of Lily Evans, on her birthday.
My Dear Girl,
Well, you're married now, aren't you. I always thought hoped for a different manner of celebrating your 21st birthday. I thought it would be you and me, together, like the old days: celebrating your 10th birthday in secret, right at midnight, by our favorite orchard tree. Do you remember? The air was cold, but the winter winds carried promises of flowers and fresh life to come. And our eleventh birthday we celebrated our birthdays together that year, remember? We skipped Charms class and conjured cakes and little candied flowers. And I brought you a lily, and yo
They say it gets easier.They say it gets easier.
They say lots of things.
How could I possibly forget about you?
The one person who knows me completely.
The one person who would never betray me.
The one person who smiles and sets me free.
How can time heal these wounds?
When each minute is a red, hot brand
Reminding me of the feel of your hand.
When every day is another empty room
And I'm losing track of the hours in this tomb.
Time becomes my eternal prison.
How can I go on without you?
I'm flying blind without you.
I'm deaf, dumb, and dead without you.
I'm putting a gun against my head,
And pulling the trigger without you.
They say it gets easier.
They say lots of things.
Lump Of CoalWould it bother you to hear me talk about boys?
What about other girls?
Well maybe not.
But the way you say.
You want a boyfriend.
Makes me feel like I don't exist.
Like I'm some sort of on the side.
That I'm not really here.
What am I?
Am I just a plaything?
Just until you can get a boy?
Then will I be thrown away?
Am I just a tissue?
To be tossed away?
When you're done with me?
It hurts to think that that's what I am.
But it seems to sound like it.
Because you say you want a boy.
What does that make me?
Are girls not the same as boys?
Well I know they're different.
But when dating, please treat them the same.
If you had a boyfriend, would you tell him.
Would you tell him about your perfect man?
I don't mind being your friend.
And at the same time something else.
But sometimes it hurts me to be treated.
TroubadourI do not fly under your flag
or sup from your well of souls.
You will not find my name
written in your lists of legion
or my likeness slipped under your footstool
while your minstrels cower
and beggar men go blind.
I will not sing your praises
or sit at your table
below the salt
waiting like your dogs
for bonescraps to drop
or pray for rings to kiss
in the stark chill of something unborn.
I am no tattered remnant
of your majesty
no soldier of fortune
blinded by your promises
to make me better than I am
or raise my gifts
to unimagined heights.
I am but one man in a scant crowd,
born beneath your horizon
in places you refused to look,
watchful and impertinent,
and still not deceived
by the weight of your scepter
or the gleam mocking in your words.
It swallows you whole,
Exceeds your control.
Apprehends your soul,
Until it has taken its toll.
It’s an overwhelming feeling.
That is made to be appealing
And you can’t help revealing,
The doubts you are concealing.
It’s an undefined dimple
And a well known jingle.
But only when you are single
Does it all seem so simple.
It is one of life’s many gifts,
That empowers and uplifts
And can lead you adrift.
Should you miss your shift.
It is impossible to describe it.
It is impossible to fight it.
Because once it is ignited
And once you have tried it.
It will take your independence.
You will become used to its presence.
You will become addicted to its essence
And include it at the end of your every sentence.
It exists even in the hearts of its haters.
It is a taste even they will savour
And although its duration wavers.
There will never be a feeling that is greater.
Everything I have said and more.
I am merely repeating what you already know.