Boxes Undone

Mocking Bird Down

In the aftermath of the tippled boxes
come undone;
ribbons untied, and words scraped
from corners of a pale skinned mind, unrefined;
do I say I am sorry?

When I was just a girl, in dresses printed in sunshine
and sewn together with trust,
I learned that words mean very little.
Unless,
they cause an unraveling.

Hope is easy. It’s a cliche gimmick token
curio offered with a pat on the shoulder
and a nod of the head. A smile.
While all the while,
I cant quite decide, which box to put it in.

You are too soft child. That is why you get so hurt.
You love too hard girl, that is why
you fall.
You hate yourself too much, woman-
maybe you should stop trying so hard.

You shouldn’t be so kind.
You shouldn’t speak your mind so much.
He will love me if I just bend.
They…

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Holes in a Tapestry

ChainsawPenguin

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The shaking out of broken glass
Tangled in the tapestry,
Making dangerous the grass
Needed by so many.
When the task is done, is it worth
The unnecessary holes created?
Or does this speak a different tone:
Of corruption unabated?
What’s left to hang can be repaired,
One wonders why it’s necessary.
When such glass could have been prepared
And removed appropriately.

Basically the state of things in the world today. Not calling people cows by using grass as a reference to a necessity of life, just making a point that those on the bottom of the food chain (the average person) feel, and often have to live with longer, the effects of the drastic measures taken by those in power when the tapestry (the world) is cleansed.

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A Lesson in the Storm

ChainsawPenguin

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In came the wind today.
It took her heart so far away,
She didn’t fight, she let it fly.
So many reasons, she could’ve cried.
As before the wind, grass would yield,
She was the same and saw no appeal,
To impersonate an oak, and meet the same end
As the grass, but with a more violent bend.
Then having fallen and no one heard,
She says lamenting:
“Joy is made sorrow and the lonely burn.
All is made nothing. Our lives so short.
Where is the Watchman, sitting high in His fort?”
In her silence, on the wind, an answer she hears.
“This is why your heart disappeared:
You had no patience for the storm,
You knew not its true form.
All is made nothing, and sorrow to joy,
But again there is something! There is more I employ.
Stand rise again! You will conquer I ensure,
The storm…

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Before Your Time

ChainsawPenguin

image

I gave you wings and then you died,
Without having a chance to fly.
The hand that stares into the sky,
While life is slowly passing by.
As a slowly sinking ship in the rain,
Above and below the waters prevent gain,
Passing no doors to escape pain.
Closed doors, closed windows, all the same.
You will never know the clouds,
From behind that darkened shroud.
You’ll won’t feel the sun on your face, above the ground.
Six feet under, listening for the sound,
Of the final bells, calling you home.
There, wait for me while I bury your bones.
You first, but soon I’ll join your soul,
After my work done and I’ve paid my toll.

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A Wound in Time, May

ChainsawPenguin

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Once was there and not before,
One more passing through pains door.
Then done and something left behind
Another lost memory left inside.
Was it lost or left? How to know?
The clues are in the wake of it so,
An echo in soon forgotten halls, fade.
Something not unlike a mythic creature made.
Its evanescence in a place,
That one wouldn’t want to chase.
In time a wound may purify or heal;
Will one endure more pain to caurerise and seal?

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A Call to Dark

ChainsawPenguin

image

A call to dark,
And those found empty.
One cannot impart
What one cannot see.
She finds herself calling
To faces of the unknown,
To the faces of hunger,
To the home within her bones.
All of this and more
Inside a question burning,
A warning, (blessing?)of nevermore.
Her mind, in a skull turning,
The empty, nameless dark still calls
Ignoring her inquiry.
The nameless faces gazes fall
From her own mirror beguiling.
A call to dark,
Herself found empty,
That call that folly answered.
Now gone today
Now none may say,
She is that folly; cancer.

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