Comet Tail Rider

Lovender Bath

2010-05-30T21:14:00.006+10:00

Lovender Bath
for @_stoicOne_ (twitter)

noise fills the room
as water fills my tub
i am ready

sweet almond oil and lavender
to nourish and scent

i peel off my cares and worries
they are a pile of clothes on the floor

i step in
the hot water
bites at my calves

the heat beckons me to immersion
i don't hesitate, i need this

i kneel, lower my head
feel the rising steam upon my face
stretching out my legs
falling, falling

heat and scent
seep into my every pore
i am silky

i feel the water love me
and i think of God
and my beloveds

poetry arrives and i reply
as it oozes from me
no paper or pen to capture
sacred it floats above me

i breath in steam straight
from the surface

sighs are propelled from my lungs
and more sighs and more and more
they too fill the room
the world has stopped

pushing my body down
i linger in a land where
sounds are muffled
and hearts beat strong

it reminds me
that indeed i am alive
and that peace can be found

lily © 2007

No Ordinary Breath (fresh from the abyss)

2010-05-30T11:20:00.003+10:00

from the poem abyss for @Bodewadmi and @BeyondMeds (twitter)

No Ordinary Breath

I am not afraid
resurrections are like orbits
back to the beginning
past the grave, beyond death
Elysium fields have the prettiest flowers
and i breathe with the dark lords there
no ordinary breath

in exhale, i enter the beautiful worlds
swim warm oceans, travel the vast land
meet creatures of many kind
look, they include me

i escaped from a secret place
and felt providence push
green air into the lungs of destiny
carrying me, whispering
that i was born to be here
in the afterglow of supernovas
ride the comet tail whips
be free

we survived with love in our hearts
not killed or noosed or ripped away
sacred i hold
and worship with smile
love of love
and love itself...

~lily © 2007

Random Transmission from the Songline of Ships

2010-03-13T12:42:00.000+11:00

Random Transmission from the Songline of Ships.
received: 4th March 2010

And the words came forth and tossed our already sodden ships, and instantly we were swept away by the currents of soprano, alto, and everyone surrendered to the bass line. We had decided it was ok to get lost. Fortunately, the sand had warmed enough during the day, to lay in, comfortably. And as we lay there drying, speckled with sand, the birds, they circled our hearts. The sun asked for blooming trees in return, so we offered a piece of driftwood, and said 'it's all that we have to give'.

Random Transmission from Seven Senses Mountain

2010-01-15T18:52:00.002+11:00

Random Transmission from Seven Senses Mountain
received: 13 Jan 2010

Whispers traveled through the valley, restless birds circled the crown of the mountain, and the day came when the juice of berries escaped their skins, eucalypt leaves shrivelled, the rich soil faded, yes there came a day when the life pulse drained away, and the mountain wept and opened her heart and freed all the pain she stored there in her iron heart, see it run down her face, see it run into the rivers, see it wend out to sea, yes, see the rage of the mountain in the eyes of a mounting wave.

Random Transmission from Reveries Path

2010-01-11T13:58:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from Reveries Path
received: Dec 2nd 2009

I never forget my safety glasses, the debris when I walk outside makes me nervous. Birds swoop and caw and the dove that roosted in the wild Wisteria has left with her babies. Creaks and crackles jerk me out of my daydreaming. I serve coffee to myself and sit with the junk mail and slip to dreaming of talc powdered babies and bedtime stories, sandpits and sprinklers in the yard. The plug from the dam was pulled and I am flooded with a thousand little girls. The walkabout spirits call me and I cannot ignore their songlines. I wander down paths that lead to paths that lead to paths, I sit crosslegged, let the storms ride over me, then walk towards the sun.

Random Transmission from the Well of Lightning

2010-01-11T13:56:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from the Well of Lightning
received: November 23rd 2008

Beyond rock piling deeds, I open my eyes, find myself in the city of sighs, exhaling the stars I had imprisoned, and I am spirited to reverie. I have strayed into the theatre of your touch; your kisses vibrate with encore. Cherry lips sublime, with sword of soul, you draw out my mute tongue! Bless the visionary map, the brave passage, traveling with the line of birds; regarding with wonder the entwine of ivy and honeysuckle. All over again, craving the ambrosia fashioned in the press of our fragrant blends. When we appear at the Well of Lightning, the unarranged harmonies shall claim us. Listen, listen to the sailor songs of the Milky Way, feel the caress of breezes, and like the Moon, know that I adore you.

Random Transmission from Flash Opera Verve

2010-01-11T13:51:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from Flash Opera Verve
received: August 6th 2008

You know, each lightning bolt is a universe, she said. No two are alike. Electricity began to permeate everything and everybody, and all the trees applauded, some even got up off their knees and begun to tug themselves out of the earth. It was the hour they had all been waiting for, as thunder played a scene from the final opera, and birds all over the world started to dream of forming words and sending them to mute men. Rain cleansed the mountain; baptizing flowers in songs of freedom. It was all that she could have wished for, especially when the mimes of angels could finally be heard.

Random Transmission from Bells Clearing

2010-01-11T13:49:00.000+11:00

Random Transmission from Bells Clearing
received: April 20th 2008

Nature has a coating on it that can’t be seen from afar, like a cats tongue or a leaf, or our skin. This is where the wheels of the Caravan start to yearn for release from the sodden earth. Oiled and resting, it is time to take to the open road. I saw dark clouds in last night’s fire, which always means a call for moving. Some have said it was smoke that I saw, just the burn off from the fire break. My blood is restless; travelling, and I have taken to packing, the fires are expected anyway. My eyes search darkening skies for a skyhook, and the heads of the Gypsy Vanners are low. Our songs and dances have shaved a slice off the moon. Onward, forward, our beginnings safely tucked away in the caravan of memories, onward forward. Clip clop.

Random Transmission from the House of Glass Slippers

2010-01-11T13:47:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from the House of Glass Slippers
received: April 2nd 2008

The Mad Hatter's lunch went cold, and Alice dipped her fingers into the salmon dip. "Oh, such faux pais" said the Doormouse. But Alice knew that the salmon wouldn't mind, because they like to push into the stream. The Queen is peeking from behind the trees, all the hearts on her dress are falling off, because the seamstresses used old cotton. Alice likes to sew, and on Wednesdays she likes to climb trees and hang all over the branches with the Cheshire Cat. He always has a great illustrious story to tell. The last story had her laughing so hard, the earthworms came up to inquire about the noise. After afternoon tea mints, the sisters and I leave the table, we sit in the lush of green, and we take the occasion to ground down our glass slippers and fashion vases. There are many blooms coming to play you know, let us prepare the refreshments.

Random Transmission from Retro Platform

2010-01-11T13:46:00.000+11:00

Random Transmission from Retro Platform
received: January 22nd 2008

She is finding her little woman, parting her hair to the side, hands on hips, widening her earthy smile. She is me and I am her, and together we are Maelstrom. The blip blip plays a mesmerizing song, her legs swinging while she plays the game. Seeking the portals to the next screen, she bangs down a leg when she perishes. Re-set and she’s rocking the channel again. Re-set buttons erasing old crashes, granting immaculate opportunities. Possibilities are rousing. In passé, a big shot wanted all mine; I unfolded my fingers and gave them all over. Slow girl, dormant instinct. Retro is calling me from the kitchen and I must fold paper ships. It is my diversion; will I claim land at the end of sailing this turbulent sea?

Random Transmission from Phantasm Arterial

2010-01-11T13:44:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from Phantasm Arterial
received: January 21st 2008

Sweat coats the steer and I am bound for the breezeways beyond the arteries. It’s a meander to a pins and needles disorder, and a special occasion to saturate my palms in the second coming and light up the room with tail-lights. I honour the pit and score out the black from my core. Ersatz and bona fide chide with songs of grey. To riddle; Is the foresight of a fading planet ample enough to burrow into fallow soil, long enough to breathe life into? Enough to keep from laying wraith roots out in the sun, to dry, to turn back to the nadir of earth, forever and ever, amen? The clock strikes 4 and the wind bids play with the garden bells. A stray cat peeks through my window.

Random Transmission from Ripe Twilight

2010-01-11T13:43:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from Ripe Twilight
received: January 20th 2008

There is mist crowning the mountain, and there is time for contemplation. In a ripe twilight, we will talk without the essence of suspended air shouldering in, without dying tree poems and pine needles in my back. Hours are long with sunken pause when Saturn sits and beckons to know her moons. A whisper is like a good wine seated in the dusky woods; resisting the penchant of fervent tongues. One turn off the mark, and it will breathe, and Sun will gift her patience with a dance upon her countenance and stars will be fathomed and the tide will sound as it should, steady, and rolling in with ease.

Random Transmission from the Ferris Wheel

2010-01-11T13:41:00.000+11:00

Random Transmission from the Ferris Wheel
received: January 19th 2008

Step right up for the Ultimate Ride. They say when you get off; you’ll never find your way home. Watch out for the puddle at the back of the Fair, if you step in it, you may fall through; we have lost many a passerby that way. Fairy bread and balloons, bearded ladies and muscle men, this is the land where caravans settle and home fires glow on old faces. I can hear the dolls sighing from the back of the painted wagon. The bleeding hearts are indulging in pity cakes and performing dramas on the parade of I; swan songs and necking euphemisms are the new black. It’s enough to make a girl want to throw mud pies and tell them it’s time to applaud now. Take their big books off them and pitch them to the lions. It’s a freak show of fine fuddling flair.

Random Transmission from the Cool Room

2010-01-11T13:40:00.000+11:00

Random Transmission from the Cool Room
received: January 17th 2008

No trains today, only buses that drive down roads leading to eateries and willy wonka smiles. A fly is buzzing around, letting me know i am grounded. One mosquito left over from last nights vampire party, is stuck on a merry go round in the breezeway. Silk painted cloth draped over the door, pillows on the floor, spritzer on the table. Bend and stretch, maybe i should do Tai Chi, those people look peaceful, all that slow movement. A favourite striped shirt waits to be filled. Eyeore has a bee on his nose. I wonder how my mama is. I hope she has her favourite treats. We must see the cousins soon. Hungry, butter makes the toast, without it, we are dry. Have some ice tea, a cigarette and let’s drive.

Random Transmission from Lees Springs

2010-01-11T13:38:00.001+11:00

Random Transmission from Lees Springs
received: January 16th 2008

Lava pours in great streaks of orange, filling the verdant valley. I am burning up with fever. The lights go out and the house starts to shake. Ash falls from the heavens. Suddenly it begins to rain, and everything is hissing and smoking, a protest to this wet imposition. What is left behind is a substance resembling grey mud full of minerals and secret ancient properties. I smear the magic residue all over myself, and walk slowly towards the natural talking springs.

Random Transmission from the Green Room

2010-01-11T13:37:00.002+11:00

Random Transmission from the Green Room
received: January 14th 2008

I saw her last night, her hair was out and wavy and she had a shine to her eyes. She is loved, and it shows. That guy has short man syndrome, telling stupid jokes and his big bulky friend liked to say the c word. I tell you, us girls were so impressed, we broke into secret women's language. Next frame; short man apologizing. The walk of fame took me back to the daze when we dined with mad hatters and passed by the room with many mirrors. I didn't know about Alice, i am so sorry, that hurts. I hope she has an angel or two waiting on her. Last ball, corner pocket, what a shot!! ..ah seems i've still got it.. pow pow!

Random Transmission from Soliloquy Station

2010-01-11T13:34:00.000+11:00

Random Transmission from Soliloquy Station
received: January 14th 2008

I can hear a train roaring, then fading. there's something comforting about hearing a train across town. maybe because it reminds me there's a way out of here.

Winter Haiku

2009-08-06T10:56:00.007+10:00

'Blowing in the Wind' by Nina Bradica, Flickr

god blows on the winter trees
to remind us
we are alive

sounds of release

2009-08-04T01:21:00.005+10:00

'Release' by Holly Friesen

you cannot give
what you never had
your soul caves in
your mind scrambles
for a shovel

release the sounds
send them on their merry way
back to the sorrow filled houses
where music lay still
as a graveside after the weeping

send them back to the carnivals
the smoky bars
the houses of shouting
the wanting
the wanting
the gaping mouths of need

beads of sweat
on my forehead
roll down my nose
drip onto my chest
i absorb them back
into my body

off the cuff

2009-07-01T23:40:00.001+10:00

what i've learned about poetry
is that its ok to open your heart
and bleed or purr or maybe
even construct text, i've learned
that poets are quite mad and that
this is our perfect right to speak
up and out and inside out
because the sea is polluted
and we live under a harsh sun
where souls are hurting and death
is armed and roams the streets
where lives are pushed to the edge
as pain hides in the shadows
where you'll never find a pearl
unless it was dropped by a
little old lady without her glasses
we can write til the day we die
if we don't look at the audience
and believe they can see
into our souls

To My Star

2008-01-21T23:58:00.001+11:00

Today is my mama's birthday
She is 68
and i don't have a poem in me
to describe how i feel tonight
so all i can inadequately say is --

Thank you for your endless Love, you mean everything to me..
Happy Birthday, my Star, I Love You.

~me
xoxoxo

Letting

2008-01-21T19:58:00.000+11:00

so you want out
you want to get off
you want to stop
and stop, just stop
but
life is a whip my friend
and it won't stop
but you can take the lashes
and enjoy the pain
there is no other route
there is no other way
where to from here?
sucked back to the black hole
where everything we need
is out of reach, where we cry
and don't know why or even
care anymore, where all we
know is we feel love stirring
inside of us
and it aches and hurts
and we need someone to see it
truly see it
and let it love them
and to bathe in the cosmos of love
inside of us
but we are tired of the travail
and come up empty and hate filled
and try to soothe un-comfort-able hearts
and all we really want
is to take the wings
and let the compulsion
to let go
take us over..

Kismet Way

2008-01-12T13:55:00.000+11:00

The lake looks good today, she would stroll beside and sit at the edge on the flat rock, and watch diamonds and birds emerge from the water. The lake held tears and she had come to listen to the tributary song.

‘Listen, can you hear the wind weave and roil? Keep moving, keep moving, and don’t stay still for too long.’ Is it too late to create another cosmos? Can spirit be taught to rid the pile of pebbles so as to praise the stars once again?’ Questions rose from the lake like steam.

The hill was steep and the summoning to a shady tree fell soft to her weary eye. She lay down and admired the angles of the bristly grass, broke bread with leaves, and folded trees into herself. Her shoulders fell back against the paper bark tree, kismet spiriting across her eyes, her skin in summer patina.

She hummed a tune she remembered she had tasted once before on a hot night, where moths and moonlight danced a dervish, and the fae clasped hands in a circle, skipping about with the wind caught in their shiny fluid dresses.

She wondered about owls and what they witnessed at night. She thought to ask them the next time she was dining with the nocturnes, and press them about their secret blue visions while the town dreamt in shadows and sepia tones, shadow boxing in the essences of the subterranean.

A bee hovered near. She smiled, remembering her wings were resting safe in the silent cave at the bottom of the mountain. Bees don’t know much about owls and wisdom is best eaten fresh, honey was the food she craved; it never spoils.

~lily

Shades of Ever

2008-01-03T19:14:00.000+11:00

outside the city
i met a man
he told me that
the sky chokes
a stale eye
words were passed
on an old piece
of paper, something
about the world of man
and the shades of ever
i can't finish
this song without
a tune

Simpatico

2008-01-03T19:12:00.000+11:00

eye in the sky
why do you whimper
have you lost
your piece of sun
stir the tides
so we can feel
the movement of water
upon our feet and remember
that warmth doesn't always
come from flames
long are the nights
where you wrangle with
the corks of messages
in a bottle, so many
corks sealing little rivers
sit with me and tell of
stories from the days
of starlight and fires
by the lake, we will laugh
seeds, we can cry music
and i will embrace your
reflection

Mercy

2008-01-02T23:31:00.000+11:00

Dirty rag doll,
twisted body
and unraveled seams,
she looks for her being
deep within heart dust,
holding a blunt needle
with a fine eye.

Flinching at the stroke
of precious balms,
seeking oils of anointment
for her veiled
and sorrow-crowned head.

Clutched to her chest
is the desert she hid
behind her back,
pleading her chalice filled.

Revive her nomadic,
fertile lips,
for she has longed
and longs to sup.

Porous, dust coated tongue
water-zealous, earth drought mouth.

Has she not been
sapless for years?
Has not the wine drenched
altar of her sins
been adorned with wilted lilies
long enough?

Mercy, mercy,
pledge your salvation

And what of Love?
Love nestles deeply
in sister-ilk spheres of scars.

Killing Time

2007-12-30T23:51:00.000+11:00

We turn to compulsions

To fill an immense void

We fill it with fallow soil

And watch as seasons

Shrivel and swell

We stay and we watch

And wait for something

To grow

~lily

Bleat

2007-12-30T23:42:00.000+11:00

I just found this in draft from a while ago in November. Not a wonder filled poem, just some words from the land of loss. I was inspired by some imbecile who writes apple pie poetry and says that we shouldn't cry when our loved ones pass, because apparently they really aren't gone at all!! Yes, apparently, they are still with us, and near - as our angels, apparently they are in the rainbows and butterflies and the pollen on our noses.. well when i look around dufus, i don't see my dad anywhere and i doubt i will anytime soon .. stupid fucktard poets who write candy floss Crap.. Capital C

You set the butterflies free into my night

Trying to make me feel better about my loss

You won me over with the butterflies

But I know he lives among the bees

(G)littering me with an army of words

No longer do we sit in the familiar chairs

Partaking in our morning tea ritual

Your sickly sweet candy is on the roadside poet

Your gasps and bleats cannot fill this cavern

Please don’t cry, it makes me uneasy

For my memories are forever young

And the ache in my heart is my master

And I am led once again to the old green chair

Far away from you and your apple pie smile

~lily

i miss you, a lot

Little Glitters

2007-12-24T20:01:00.000+11:00

The exit was young, the entrance was old.
Three dark smiles clutch at shadows
in a land of new moon and whisper
heavy clouds are plummeting all over the place!

Time’s grace takes hold of a hand
that once held promise. Scores of balloons
released to navigate their way out from
the stings of haunting, from the need for air

When light forsook dusk, little glitters
lingered in the hearts of children

And what remains is a sparkle in the eye
of a child, who sees only trees in evergreen
and open roads, blind to folly; seizing faith
in wishes to bolster a colossal, jaded heart.

And dreams, timeless and tethered
lead them on.

~lily

Close Your Eyes

2007-12-16T15:47:00.000+11:00

In the middle

Of seventh heaven

And the deep blue sea

This is the defense

Of a hanging soul

A precarious

Tight rope walk

A drawn out night

Around a dying fire

Create the pain

And suffer in deserving

It’s a fading stage

Willing to change

It’s not enough

Under the burning sun

Everybody runs

Set us on fire!

~lily

i'm not sure why, but this poem got 25 comments, Read of the Day and Andy's Sunrise of the Soul Award; strangely i feel proud of that, as i'm not big on awards and such. A big piece of the pieces of me in this poem i guess.

Double Boom

2007-12-01T10:52:00.000+11:00

Take it away

away, take it

this is the pebble

the pebble in my shoe

there’s room for more

more madness and undone

trusts, more outrageous

felicities

driver, lose me before

I remember that I am lost

lost among the fishers of hate

yes, the night is young, carrions

and we have a party to (dis)grace

the almighty holder of stupors

has requested our attendance

we have shed our delayed skin

and our flesh doesn’t matter

any more, our spirit is

under the spell of chaos

and we have no baggage

don’t lick at me with a honey tongue

give me the resurrection sting of bees

maybe I’ll fall deeply in love

you may just be the last

take it away

away, take it

~lily

Love is a Losing Game, isn't it Amy

2007-11-23T22:48:00.000+11:00

larger than life
a cold stone wall
she lights candles there
a vision in every wax drip
when you are through
with the lightning shows
and popcorn clouds
peer through the small crack
be witness to the death
of a candle

look into
the darkness
if you want to feel
the light
i was a flame for you
but you cut my wick
and poured wax
all over the gods
on the table

i couldn't believe it
even when i saw it
with my own two eyes, it
broke my heart, repeat (repeat)
it left me with
a cold clarity, it
held me tight and chained
me to the sentence of every day
it swam alongside me
with every stroke i made
it made me remember
the scent of you
it made me forget
i could dream
i can't remember your smiles
but at least i can still feel them...

Soothe Refrain

2007-11-14T22:27:00.000+11:00

in the rain down
i was Cinderella
no shoes, toes wriggling
dare darting from eyes
that have swam in chords
and wandered in song lines
I cannot lie
hung up, flung up
never hang up
pain is evident
in valleys of resignation
hearts under the covers
in the lining, in the far apart
to myself
breath bouncing off walls
we forgo the chaise
lover, splay your fingers
and I will fill the in between
come

~lily

A Tie-Die Chorus for Angels

2007-10-29T00:00:00.000+11:00

‘Now’s a bad a time as any’

bound for checkmate

the envelope is sealed

monochrome eyes

unearth a pencil map

lay out on a midnight divan

velvet age, deception of self

the wind wants to carry you

roses in arms, silence for eyes

green mourns for you

in the coming of the fates

joy can’t touch this moon

it’s a melodious acceptance

no fear for the all too near

a weight in the wings

soul folded

~me

Word

2007-10-14T15:50:00.000+10:00

The whirlwind died down
a long time ago
the word is out
and we were shaken
let out the birds
let them come home
ask the sky a question
can you go higher?
can you stand under the stars
when the symphony ends?
can you open your blood
for the power of verity?
the silver cord reaches to all
and not just to yourself

~lily

Little Miss Fickle

2007-10-07T11:01:00.000+10:00

thank you thank you
your blessings
ignite my ego

your spotlight
brings my crimson
up
and soothes my need
down

i am addicted to strokes
but i fall apart if your head
does not turn

i have a solid mask
and have learned spite
well

i am ~yawn~ ever thankful
(i'll be with you in a minute)
and i bow and smile
to your raised glasses

but for your sin
i will ignore you
at the celebration party

~lily

Tug of War; and Ants

2007-09-21T07:53:00.000+10:00

Pulling on a tug of war rope

my straight arms; ache

on and forward, I see the victory line

and beyond; the ground to be won

getting closer and closer

bare heels are all I have

a pair of 6 inch stilettos

lay on a picnic blanket

and the ants are marching, marching

~lily

Give me the keys to Creation

2007-09-14T19:24:00.000+10:00

hello poem….

this is the poem I wrote

when I was trying to write

a poem; if it’s a poem at all

it’s got strength in it

and love, lust and affection

it’s got lush green trees

and red soil, it’s got

highways and field paths

and birds and nests

it’s got rain puddles

sun shiny queens

and a verandah with a rocking chair

I feel thunder

The one I wrote yesteryear

had secrets of sleuths

and foreign hotels

it had strings and biting off tags

and sins, rages, jealousy

it had speeding cars

and swinging lights

bitten nails and fear

it had torn down fences

and a trickle down a chilled glass

~lily

One

2007-08-11T12:04:00.000+10:00

In a tiny corner of shade

One blue daisy

Amid a bush of wilted dancers

Out in the hot sun

still connected.....

~lily

The Sigh of the Pink Telephone

2007-08-04T20:59:00.000+10:00

blah blah blah
i love to hear the sound
of my own voice
i'm so wise because
i gots kicked down so many times
and i'm gonna help you suckerr
by telling you all about my experience

ad nauseam

they may be a little skewed and swollen
but i will lick your face so the scent
of my pain will be near and you'll
never forget me because you know
i know everything there is about
what it's like to hurt, it's my calling
not many people do you know
i won't hear anything you say
at all because you are not important

i am

i will try try try oh so very hard
to not lie and leave a mess
to put on my clean dress
and try to be good
at hiding my agenda
i need face cleanser -- i need a new mirror
i need some new friends
i've left a trail of them behind

sigh

Love me Two Times

2007-08-03T23:58:00.000+10:00

Ominous

2007-07-30T22:49:00.000+10:00

Eyes wide shut
i, bring to the table
tears and a bowed head
i do not know who
to pray to anymore
i'm tired of the ache in my throat
what's happening to me?
dizzy lizzy and her tilted world
i don't know how we get through
each day, i can't see through
blurry eyes
the end is near us my friends
i won't ask for help
i won't

~a little girl

A Coin in her Mouth

2007-07-29T12:03:00.000+10:00

burying copies of myself
i dig up bones
of a small girl
who used to build castles
out of twigs
poked into the ground

~lily

One Eye Open

2007-07-23T08:04:00.001+10:00

Hey Missy Muse
where the hell are you?
i've been waiting up all night
your bed's unslept in

tossed, turned, one eye open

when you walk through
that door, i am going to
rummage through your bags
and see where you've been

and make you sit and tell
of all the worlds you seen

teach me

come on, come on, come on
cable is starting to bore me
and the world is trying to whore me

without further adieu

if you can hear me from here
bring me back some high art
a clean start

a benign heart

~lily

Malady

2007-07-21T22:20:00.000+10:00

I know the way, this way, your way
through the direction of your voice

your wind song rises to eat my sun
and i am wired to your yearnings

but the words i need to give you
fall away the closer i get, the more i listen

i cannot hear the waves anymore
i am a conduit of the pain you sing

in the dark recesses of the malady you serve
i cannot reach you, i cannot reach you

teach me

~lily

Situation Vacant

2007-07-18T20:01:00.000+10:00

Situation vacant
round and round
the mulberry bush
i chased a man
with twenty tails
led me right to the gate
of the nightmare trail
i sit around and chew
on memories, how you
spiked my drink
and fed me sweetened lies
your vanity
is the only thing i remember
about you, now
chew on your conquest whore
and don't bother coming round
no more, my sign is in

~you can call me Comet

To the God of Pain, by Sarojini Naidu

2007-07-16T15:44:00.000+10:00

To the God of Pain

Unwilling priestess in thy cruel fane,

Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain

Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows

My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows

Anointed with perpetual weariness

Long have I borne thy service, through the stress

Of righteous years, sad days and slumberless nights

Performing thine inexorable rites.

For thy dark altars, balm nor milk nor rice,

But mine own soul thou’st ta’en for sacrifice;

All the rich honey of my youth’s desire,

And all the sweet oils from my crushed life drawn,

And all my flower-like dreams and gem-like fire

Of hopes up-leaping like the light of dawn.

I have no more to give, all that was mine

Is laid, a wrested tribute, at thy shrine;

Let me depart, for my whole soul is wrung,

And all my cheerless orisons are sung;

Let me depart, with faint limbs let me creep

To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep.

Sarojini Naidu

Day-Boo

2007-07-16T08:10:00.000+10:00

Whether i am a comet tail rider, or a sleeping satellite, the Universe is bigger than my view, but i am still here to tell of what little i see.