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1
The stars are misaligned and they fall out in fiery anguish.
The cosmos are withered and the sun has burned out all the oxygen.
Green is now black.
The skies above are red with puke.
Such pleasure to build pressure and explode.
This is all I know.
A culmination, a means to an end.
"Thirty years of it, all at the same time, all at once."
Anger, fear, distortion, lies, secrets, enemies, friends, nothing left on this black dust but me.
In the beginning there was only light.
I fucked that light and got enlightened babies.
If I am mother, I must be Lilith.
Purple pearly hazed idiot sent out of the garden.
Wretched spitting pain, thorn in my side, I rebuke you.
I must have been born to be angry and punished.
I take many stands and every time the earth tilts and down I fall.
Tumbling towards nothing...nothing at all.
In a circle I go.
Merry-go-round on Satan's painted ponies.
Where will it end?
Spin the bottle round and pass the booze.
I'm on a mission.
Grey and blue hues hear my little cries.
This little girl is in my story..... I am as relaxed as a pinched muscle.
I squeeze out the truth in odd moments when I can.
Splatter of emotions but I have gone nowhere.
I am still here, staring at them waiting for a response.
I get no response.
I even asked "Will I be a great writer some day?"
I know better than to ask.
To quote a good friend of mine, "I like putting on lipstick and eating mints."

  

2
Yellow and sun-bright her blue eyes squint.
I smell the damp grass on her hands, feel the sea breath on my face.
I long to run my hands rampant on her cool skin.
The day is so bright; nothing seems to stop the pale clouded skies ahead.
The wind is so serene as it blows right past us on that rocky cliff.
I am captured for the moment.
The warmth and security reach me.
Every hair stands on its end.
That smile, those eyes...sigh...where have I seen them before?
I smell No. 8. swirly and pearly.
Slice of heaven, light voice, airy and comforted, runs amok in my mind.
Chills of freedom rain like blows over my skin.
I've tasted her lemon cake lips.
Tangy and sweet, swallowed hard in to an etched forever.
The thistle and heather ring loudly on my trousers.
Waves of panic let me hear the ocean below us.
Can't figure which one I like best, the feeling of now, the beautiful scenery or she who stands in
from of me.
Making grassy angels, there it is again.
I feel nothing but pure unadulterated bliss.
I breathe in deeply...she smiles and hugs me.
Where have I seen her before?
My mind has gone whirly.
I want to but I can't.
I need to find her again.... searching my memories ah, there she is...but her name escapes me.
She comes to me the next thought around and finds my mouth, sweet little bird kisses drinking
wine from my lips.
"No! I don't want to go! " She cries.
Stagnant tears, fiery and paced, drop dews of pearly painful pindrops.
She says in a thick accent, "Until tomorrow my love, I will be here waiting for you."
I awake and feel empty.... one more day...sigh.
Tonight in a smoky room I will find her.
Perhaps catch a glimpse of her.
Then, she will just be around another corner.

  

2
You are not home
Your house is alone
And I am in it
I can hear the clock tick and hear the house creak
But you are not there
I can only imagine what your house says in its silence when you are not there
The weak sunlight pours in the back door, through the windows and into the kitchen
I watch your TV and sleep on your couch
I am sick, I am lonely
I try and remember what it was the last time we talked
Peacefully pleasant moment surrounded with relief
I am in your home
And I can now sleep

 

2
If beckon for your help will I compromise my safety
Loud shouts ring true in my head
The noise of my body slamming into your hands
Like falling off a cliff
Sparks and my head is full of fireflies
You've made me see my lights again
I admire them and I do things
Things that make you angry
I see my lights when you are enraged
Through your eyes
I can see my future and it is dead
Through my eyes I see a man
Of great stature
Picking up his daughter for one more lesson
Taught with rough hands and firm denial

 

2
If I unzip my skin will you come in?
To feel you inside
I will live your in your dreams
If I drift like dead wood into your imagination
Will you change the wind direction to spite me?
If I fall ripe as a blood orange
Will you peel my skin and let me in?
Taken by surprise I know my demise
I see it in your eyes
You want to come to be me
With a thorn in your side
You can grasp only my broken wings
And the after effect it will eventually
Have on you

 

2
Ripe with wither I plunge in deeper
I see the rot become my home
I feel the decay ensnare my leg
There I go, down again
Hands and feet tied
Drowning in a world of misunderstanding
I accomplish to free my mind
Before my last breath becomes rotten

 


All of the above poems are © Copyright Shelley Ochoa 2002. They may not be copied or reproduced in part or in total without prior permission of the author.



E-mail Shelley Ochoa : slowdive@adelphia.net

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