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A Tale of Two LovesTwin coins, double-headed
Fell into a brook:
One was gold, the other leaded--
Guess which wish the waters took.

In haunted wind the branches shook
A nymph enclosed in fairy tree,
Just wood and leaf at first look
In hollowed rings no one could see--

A soul was trapped upon a bough
Beyond the current's reach.
The winded gods would not allow
A plaintive prayer to beseech.

Two coins, yet neither true
Fell into a brook
Thus both were drowned in buried blue,
Heartless dreams that no one took.

Silent Leaves of SummerAs silent leaves of summer rise
In vibrant green on budding bark,
The moon turns towards fireflies
And innocence burns dark.

If the sun had bloomed in time
Could it have saved the cloudless skies?
If there had only been a sign...
Too late--for now the summer dies.

A single rose stands all alone
No sun or rain for comfort,
As thorns press through to petals' flesh
And leaves turn slow to dirt.

FaithlessI.
The religious zealot to the atheist:

Quick to sin, the fall of man
Banished by a judging hand
But soon the Christ child overturned
The threat of hell and being burned

II.
The atheist's question:

But if I love and have not faith
Will I be damned, no saving grace?

III.
The paradox:

God does not love, he only rules
If you deny then you're a fool.

Love in the Grown-Up WorldI suppose you should know I've moved forward
Even better than that I've moved toward
A place where your face is like melted wax
And the claim to your name has fallen flat.

Did you know that I'd rise up so quickly
And forget that I loved you so swiftly?
Life is too short to pretend we were real
Life is too short so I can't let you steal

A single second from what I have left:
The touch of your kiss is just wasted breath.

Breaking Up At BreakfastI wish that I had a smile like yours.
If I did, I'd catch laughter in a jar,
To be bottled and preserved and then served
Like jelly spread on toast: White, wheat or rye?

I long for milk when I hear babies cry
I once wished for a child with your eyes.
But why sigh for a glass that has been spilled?
The pitcher is sitting on the table.

I spooned you from my soul with a ladle
And now that you're gone I'll never look back
Though once in a while I'll wake to your laugh
You're now a nightmare instead of a dream.

Summer SnapshotsI.
Summer fled by water's edge
And you kissed me goodbye
I stumbled into unmade bed
And couldn't see the sky

II.
There was a star-I knew its name
But fire is too hard to tame
And so I watched it fly away
As nighttime melted into day.

III.
Clouds like daydreams, quickly spun
Like napkins over azure tears
I danced in rain (too slow to run)
And waited for the sky to clear.

If You Were the WorldIf all the world was mine
And all the world was you
Then life would be divine
With skies of august blue.

Stilling Autumns Raspy BreathThe forlorn howling of ancient wolves' winds
stir the dusty bones of a million corpsed leaves

An icy exhale is coming
to pierce the air with a silver siren

While small animals pulsate like organs underground

The earth's body is mummified in a crystal sarcophagus

RainIt is dangerous any night
To mull too long on the inevitable song
In a raindrop's pallid flight.
By opening up to the minute flicker
Of water coursing from a tear
As concrete growing wearily darker
Damper, distance disappear.
Downwards and split on the earth
Reflections from a watery star.

I have never truly been hungry,
Never fought for food.
Never in a state of ecstasy,
At last have I... chewed.
But I have loved-
as one who has been alone,
Clung to the edge of a falling hope,
Built new dreams in a hurricane.
I blame the rain - I cannot sleep.
I spent too long on the tiny things
That did not care, I cannot sleep.

HometownDays on days; my hometown harboured,
Concrete cradles cast for me.
Children growing tall like ships
Alone and listing out to sea.
A whole world turning, under sheets,
A first beer, a first kiss;
The sweetest things a man could miss.
Old resonating beats still cry
From an evermore receding shore
And swallowed by a deadpan sky
They trail off... forgotten, unsure.

ApologiaI. I am the Means

I dip my quill because I'll die.
I move my hand, slowly, word after word,
like a calligrapher from China,
'til every word has purpose,
and so do I.

I dip my quill, again,
because I'll die.

II. Homage to Hecate

I have ever served one goddess
and one alone.
Hecate – mistress of the night,
coy concubine at the crossroads.

She made love to me, once,
'neath the light of a vestal moon,
her moans the vespers
of a moribund nightingale.

But my heart was only hers when,
as Poesy withered
and my soul vacillated
in the cold waters of postcoital sorrow,
she let her vesture swathe
my chest and hummed:
I have g

Misbegotten LoveBehind a hidden waterfall of dire straits and hidden love
Is the memory of an echo
Broken and lonely in reverberating grief.

Through blasphemed night, like a thief
I made my way through water's edge
Gathering a star or two along away--

Rainbows never lie, never mean to deceive
Their taunting archway
Is a simple misunderstanding,
A miscalculation of misplaced trust and mislaid hope--

and misbegotten love.

ResurrectionBeyond dark, deeper than black
The wail of the tide rises and cracks
An echo lost to the plaintive moon
Weighted heavy in heart-bent swoon

To the wall at the corner
Of 5th and Main
I leave my youth doused in rain
As a silent mourner of what I was
Lost in a time when I believed in love

But he won't come back
Too late for dreams
As even now hope lifts from steam
Rising past the torrid sun--
He loved me when we were young.

The Lust of WarIn sorrow refined by gun-crossed bloodlust,
She buries a rosary with his corpse,
Sheds two tears: one of pain, one of remorse,
Whispers ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
If not for war, she'd have loved him tonight
But his coffin only holds room for one.
One man, one soul (but two hearts) and one gun
For her? Empty air to cradle her tight.
And there is no peace; there is never peace.

Wine of My SoulCoasting on the tide, I felt my hand graze
A feather, floated down from something grim,
And in that instant I forgot to swim
Weighted by the water of aching days.
When I look at heaven I cannot pray-
The stars are too bright and angels too thin,
Too near the sun with their wax-paper wings:
Beneath splendor, their hearts are made of clay.
But I will kiss a song for tomorrow--
Perhaps there are dreams I have not yet found.
I will wish them well, bottled in sorrow,
Tears and heartaches twisted and tightly wound:
Wine of my soul, I'll give it to the sea.
And say a prayer for tranquility.

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Death In A Four Leafed CloverI found death in a four leafed clover.
Maybe the timing was off
Or maybe I'm not Irish enough
Or maybe they're not lucky after all
Just deformed, little clover bastards
Bringing the wrath of the Holy Trinity
Upon me for my foolish superstition.

Either way, I lost you
And luck and prayer
Didn't do a damn thing
So either I'm unlucky or I can't pray
But I don't think God would care
If I prayed the rosary backwards in Pig Latin-
He of all people should get the point.

But here's that bloody clover
And I want to rip off that extra leaf
And doom it to conformity
But to be perfectly honest
I just don't care enough anymore.

And luck

Oil Skimming On WaterAnd still I cannot separate
The perfumed air from your soul.
I know you must be here somewhere
In the blooming trees
Or the teasing wind because
You always reveled in days like this
And an inconsequential thing like death
Couldn't stop you from dancing.

But maybe your kiss truly is
Lost to me or maybe you
Have found someone more enlightened
Because what use am I to you alive?

I am nothing but mechanical
A living, breathing organism limited by
Moving limbs and heaving breath
And I am too heavy for you now-
You would pass through me in an instant
And I obstruct the light that you sing in.

Your memory is alive in wordless sighs

The Last ReconcilingHere, consecrate our love with a bottle
Of wine smashed across my heart
And there let shards of glass stay to throttle
My soul and tear me apart.

Your kiss is sweeter than death to my lips
But no more welcome, darling
We've danced this song before and I swear this
Is the last reconciling.

Allow me, though, just one moment to gloat
As you grovel on your knees
Before I slap your face and grab your throat
And choke you with one last squeeze.

Stale Tawdry RhymesEnough with the eloquent gibberish
Give me a beer and stale, tawdry rhymes
A bawdy limerick has more raw unmeasured emotion
Than a sonnet. And you with your smoky jacket
And smoldering eyes, you have the honesty
Of a loyal, hard-working, degenerate alcoholic
But at least you tell me straight up
That it's sex and nothing more.
I don't expect candelight and roses but
A swig of cheap whiskey and a tumble
On dirty sheets is enough to dull my thoughts
So thank you for reducing a symphony
To the tinny sound of a garbage dump piano
Played by the scurrying feet of rats.

Greater ClarityWhen I was sixteen
I loved a boy indiscriminately
Or thought I did.
But really,
He was just a physical manifestation
Of restlessness
And a diversion from the reality
Of loving a boy who
Loved me
Or at least had danced with me all night-
Which at sixteen is the same thing.
And so I spent that summer
Lingering on the sidewalk
Until dusk creeped upon
My bare toes
And my mother called me inside
And I went to bed
And he beckoned me outside
My window and begged me to sneak out.
And other than a midnight phone call
That Christmas which I ignored
I never heard from him again
Because I tried to sew him
Neatly into a tiny corner

TrashI'm a bitch for saying it,
I know.
But I'm glad you look
Old, skin hanging
Hair brittle from countless
Cheap dye jobs
Hands shaking as they
Light another cigarette.

What did you expect?

Love?

Too late honey.

I tried but here you are
Still phony after all these years
Giving me all that
Sanctimonious bullshit babble
About turning over a new leaf
And finding Jesus
And going back to school.

Whatever.

It's not going to make you a good person
And you're still going
To look like cynical, jaded, washed-up
White trash. And I'm glad.

I'm glad that I'm young and pretty
And my hair shines in the sun
And I've got years ahead of m

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To The English Language

by ~tina-go-lightly, Jun 27, 2010, 7:52:07 PM
Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

Thoughts grow heavy,
Twisted by the prostitution of your vowels:
A dime for an 'o' a penny for an 'e',

And the price of your soul?
It's worthless, now.

You have broken the cadence of meter
And iambs, stressed and unstressed alike
Drift away. The old you was sweeter

Carefully measured, each syllable laden
With beauty and grace.

Have you enjoyed this desecration,
The slaying of mother tongue,
The ravishment of metaphor?

You, the English language, have become a whore.

To The English Languageby ~tina-go-lightly

Literature / Poetry / Horror / Free Verse

©2010-2013 ~tina-go-lightly

lol
English, ftw
plz comment n' fav guyzzzz
if you do, i will give you lotz and lotz of llamas
like for realz

^I rest my case

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~coldfalafel Jul 30, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

hah funny

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~Xswiffy Jun 29, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

lyk tis is awsum

i totalz agreez w u

Reply

Mood: Joy

~talkinggoat972 Jun 29, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

I have felt like this quite a bit in the last week, reading some of the popular lit submissions. I dig it, its very direct and doesn't mince words.

Reply

~tina-go-lightly Jun 29, 2010 Writer

Thank you!

Reply

~Ralloff Jun 29, 2010

I lie it, its funny, and if I interpreted it correctly, a very true statement reguarding the deterioration of the english language to todays culture. Though hypocritical in reguards to you description. But aren't we all guilty of it? Anyways...........LOLOLOLOLOLOL

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~tina-go-lightly Jun 29, 2010 Writer

Oh well...that description was meant to be supporting evidence, but thanks

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~A-Symmetry Jun 29, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

You view language with an odd perspective, but I like it.

Reply

~tina-go-lightly Jun 29, 2010 Writer

Thanks

Reply

~TheForsakenGoddess Jun 28, 2010

American english is basically trash talking no matter what the person says!!! And yes, when i talk i forget the "g" after "ing" and "this,that,these,those" is "dis,dat,dese,dose" and i dont even know how certain words were pronounced like first anymore!!

...*sniff*

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~tina-go-lightly Jun 29, 2010 Writer

Well I suppose that depends on the American

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