Between · a · blurred · sagacity...

I find I do not know myself at all
And with this vague and contradicting stance
How can I discern when I should fall
In love, or play at these games of romance?
And worse still, if you had feelings for me,
Your bravery would surely match the course,
But my unmoved heart, when treated gently,
Wishes to feel a more passionate force.
For love is not love when solely given,
Nor an infatuation encouraged
And until I love, it will be driven
Away, and your own feelings discouraged.
Who knew I possessed a heart so feral
To want the force of love and the peril!

They’re all collected on the wall
In the hall of regrets
Where I have no secrets
Their pictures all stare at one another
From across the hall
And one is much like the other
That I can’t help to compare
Though they grumble and glare

It seems like too many to be seen
Can I clean all these out?
No one knows what they’re about
Except me and I have had no secrets
Since the age of sixteen
I told them and they won’t forget:
Because my secrets stare each other in the face
Hung on the wall in disgrace

Though we share our bodies and our minds
With others to sort through for treasured finds
Though we grow to care for another
We share something solely between each other

Holy, holy, holy: Lanalei, creator of all,
Queen of stars, star-clad and star-crowned
As the heavens open up, and she drifts down
Her steps brush silver tinged clouds
And sweet sounding birds soar in her wake
The sound of feathers envelops her.
What secret can you hide from her eyes,
That are dark as night?

Holy, holy, holy: Lanalei, knower of all,
Goddess of wisdom and kindness,
Our better natures resound at her voice,
Filled with music and the song that
Created us out of blood and star-fire,
She calls us to her bosom.
What can you not accomplish in her care,
Blessed and protected?

If I kissed you now, I’d no longer feel
The heart’s love that the lips reveal
And if there were tears, I’d feel nothing
Of the feelings that made me at eighteen
Eighteen and pledging my heart to a boy
Thinking I’d found the source of life’s joy.

If I kissed you now… no, I would just stare
There would be no kisses for us to share
No scorn, no hate, no love here at all
Just strangers who nod and pass down the hall
Down the hall, as we walk towards our fates:
I, with my new lover, and you with your hate.

I took each line from the Tao Te Ching and expounded on it poetically in rhyming lines. I like this. It's a lot of fun.

( Named and Nameless )

You mean the world to me so I put it in words
But the noise cuts through us like the sharpest of swords
And the cold silence you give does nothing but kill
The horizon of the future that you used to fill

My friend said that this read like a part of a series... maybe it should be?

( In His Sight )

Set within the Pelai universe, though you wouldn't know it. It's been doctored for a class.

( Most ladies don’t take too kindly t’ bein’ ordered around... )

We've no choice but to follow God's command,
Explore this paradise and multiply
'Til God, oh God shows us the promised land
Where milk and honey flow down from the sky.
Red and round like an apple of Eden,
Your taste gives the knowledge of what's been done
Yet we explore the garden once again
And move as God intended, two as one.
Oh, what incomprehensible offense
Has lost us all our songs of innocence?
In their place, the facts of experience,
But what divine command is so immense?
Only this, and that our love be holy
Whether it be hard or soft or slowly.

The house is silent, no word from you at all
While here I lay and I’m waiting, waiting
I watch the door, but expectations are small
For you’re not here & I lost count, dating
By the fading smell of you on my skin

My heart is silent, & grieving all I can recall
While here I cry and I’m waiting, waiting
I watch the door, synonymous with the wall
For it’s not opened & here I am hating
That I’m awaiting what’s never really been

While here I lay and I’m waiting, waiting
And my hopes are threadbare and thin
And I feel nothing along my skin
For my love has never really been

With silent eyes and tilted head
He greets the herald of a battle won
He looks over the littered field instead
Of with his dark Myrmidons in celebration
With narrowed eyes against the light
That pierces the veil of what he sees
In Briseis, queen of his every night,
Lover of swift and famed Achilles.
The greatness in such a name
Meets the greatness of her trust
Trusting body yielding to his fame
While their passion transmutes their lust.

Like a struggling bird with cut-off wings,
Bleeding from a sword-pierced heart,
All the wounds that refuse to heal,
What’s in the heart that the wounds reveal?
Oh, to be like a spring-mad bird that sings
But what I sing is silence from the start.
Not heartbeats nor wingless breaths I feel,
What’s in the heart that the wounds reveal?
Only confusion over what is real:
Is it love or is it steel?