I am a Storyteller, first and foremost. This is my blog for poetry, prose, stories, excerpts of my novels and videos. Life poetry, prophetic poetry, poetry for all genres. I think you'll find yourself here if you read long enough.
In Your Pocket On the thirty-first of Always On the wrong side of the track I gave my heart to eyes of darkness But they didn't give it back. In the deepest part of midnight 'Twixt the rising and the death I inhaled the hope of sweetness And exhaled a bitter breath. Tantalized, I fell through barbed wire There erected 'round your soul Handed you my greatest treasures Watched them change into fool's gold. Am I lost now that you've found me? Am I falling without wings? You gave me stages that are useless Now I have no voice to sing. What an alchemist you are! What a devil straight from hell! My heart is dust now in your pocket As you smile and wish me well. On the thirty-first of Always Could that I, that day erase Forget the eyes that looked out, taunting From that smiling angel's face. Fools are children without foresight Looking for the things they lack Giving hearts to eyes of darkness That never, ever give them back.
What is It? If love is not love Then what is it? How can it exist If it's not real? If love is not there How can you feel it? And what is a love That you can't feel? What is wanting If you don't want it? And needing something That you don't need? Why is the thing you don't need So all powerful? And how does it grow If you don't plant the seed? How does the heart decide who it loves? Does the mind then, not play a part? All of the thoughts in the brain can't conceive Of the emotions that live in the heart. The heart is an entity all of it's own No one can control it by will Your mind can demand and command it But the heart hears and goes it's way, still. I do not want to love you I had made no plans, you see I didn't count on you entwining yourself Till you became a part of me. I didn't want to want you I didn't need the pain I had hurt so much from love's cruel touch And I didn't want to hurt again. I really tried to run away When that feeling did approach I resisted everything I saw in you That my lonely heart needed the most. But the heart became my master And my mind just sighed and left For it knew that soon my heart would break And that I'd find myself, bereft. And so I am and so it did And love's wounds have cut me deep As my heart reached out to hold onto Something it could never keep. You tell me love cannot be real In this place and space and time Because your own heart does not feel The love I feel with mine. And though that might be true for you That doesn't make it so Not thinking, I reached my hands to love And with the same hands, must let it go. If this love is not love Then what is it? How can it exist If it's not real? If my love for you Is not something that's true Then tell me, what is this heartbreak I feel? You can't tell me my mind has imagined When my mind warned me not to partake My mind only has one thing in common With the heart and that's both of them break. But only love can break a heart That thing that God gave man And only He knows the secret to how Love can heal that heart again.
WARRIORS OF THE WAY EPISODE THREE DAY BREAKS ON A HARDENED HEART
The sun fell out of the sky like a dying bird and crashed into the west with a sudden darkness that chilled me to the bone. I arranged my belongings around me and threw a blanket down upon the grass under a low hanging tree that provided a sort of shelter. Pulling off my knee high boots, I threw them onto the jumble of assorted treasures that had traveled with me for seeming decades now and rubbed away the pain in my toes. I ran a hand through my long dark mass of curls and caught it in a tangle. Thinking I should do something about it, I looked into a deerskin bag for a brush and then threw it aside violently. "Who cares?" I asked the growing darkness. "I don't care! There is no one here to care anymore!" Loneliness gripped my heart and I threw myself down upon the blanket and covered myself with another and fell into a dreamless sleep that seemed to last for days and yet only for minutes. My last thought before sleep had been, "Let this day be only a dream!" But that wish was not to be granted. A strange and beautiful white bird awakened me with an eerie song as it sat in the tree opposite mine and watched me warily with unreadable eyes. I lay there not moving and watched it watching me until it suddenly took flight and seemed to wave back at me in an approving farewell gesture. I frowned and hid a smile behind my hand and turned my head as though I had not seen. I didn't want to smile. I did not plan to ever smile again. Smiling belonged to yesterday and Starshine and with the wilding joy of childhood. Today was another day. Today I would become the warrior I had been trained to be, determined and hardened and heartless! (That was the plan anyway.) Looking down at the sparkling water in the brook, I dipped my fingers to test it's warmth and quickly decided a bath was in order. Slipping off my garments, I plunged into it's cool depth, gasped and swam swiftly to the other side to acclimate my body. Pearl white stones lay all along the bottom of the stream and I dove down and collected a few and brought them to the surface. Like fragile bird's eggs, they were and cool and soothing to the touch. I had never seen the like. What strange stones! I hurried out of the water and threw them down upon the blanket and reached for the fragrant soap I had purchased somewhere along my travels. Washing my hair, I remembered the woman who had cared for me as a child and spoke to me oft times in a foreign tongue that I could not understand but always her soft voice had comforted me and made me long for my mother. I stood for a few moments in the sun on the banks of the brook and let the breeze dry away the drops of water. It never occurred to me that anyone might see me. I had not seen another human for many days nor did I care to. People always seemed to stare at me with strange looks and shocked expressions. I never understood why. When I had asked my father, he said to me, "Because you are beautiful. And special and they love you." That explanation never satisfied me, neither did it make me question further because deep inside my heart I had always heard a voice that said softly to me, "Someday you will know." But that day had never come. I dressed quickly in fresh garments of soft deerskin and velvet, my preferred fabrics, not the preference of the royal house to which I was born but comfortable and luxurious to me. The deerskin tunic fell to my knees and was topped with a garnet cloak of velvet, hooded and tied about my throat. A garnet belt circled my waist and it's fringes came to the hem of the tunic. I pulled on my deerskin boots and the finger-less gloves that ran halfway to my shoulders. Brushing the tangles from my dark hair, I tied it up with strings of garnet and leather and let it fall down my back in uncontrollable curls. Starshine had loved to pull my hair when I had dared to walk in front of him and snorted in amusement when I protested and pulled his own black mane. The memory of it brought tears to my eyes but I brushed them away and clasped my father's gift around my neck, the golden necklace that matched the golden circlets in my ears. I had worn it for so long that I felt bare without it and it's smoothness gave me solace.
Sitting upon the blanket, I looked around me at the marvelous berries hanging from the vines and bushes and I grew hungry and my mouth watered at the sight. Breakfast beckoned, but first I sought to examine the pearl white stones I had collected at the bottom of the brook. I held three of them in my hands and turned them round and round then threw them up into the air in a juggling motion and let them fall down into my lap. "You're a child!" I told myself and threw them down upon the blanket in frustration. There was a cracking sound and I looked in amazement to see that two of them had been damaged. Picking them up, I saw that each stone had broken in half and hidden inside one half was an object so shiny and dazzling that it hurt my eyes. "What magic is this?" I muttered and attempted to look at the objects through my upheld fingers. My surroundings suddenly went silent. Not a sound was heard, not a bird's voice, not a wild beast's call. Silence. My hardened heart began to race in unknown fear and I knew without looking that someone stood behind me. I felt them there without so much as hearing a single footstep. It was a feeling of great....evil. I felt it watching me, willing me to pick up the broken white stones and remove the brilliant things inside them. It was almost too much to bear. I struggled with the strange manipulation and fought against it as hard as I could, thinking that I must. I must!
And so I did and the moment passed and the silence silently melted away into the morning. Noise rushed my ears then, noise of the wild and of the world and of the life I no longer felt a part of. I held my breath and waited for the watcher to return but it did not. Instead, I heard a twig snap and a footstep and a branch pulled back and to my utter horror, heard a voice, musical and low and oddly familiar. And the voice said "Magic indeed!"
