2024-01-04

poetry/m/melia.txt

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+Melia
+2020-09-27
+
+***
+
+like the gentle beating of the ocean's waves
+the anhedonia comes once more to play
+like a seed buried deep in the chambers of my heart
+germinating each time the tide floods into the bay
+
+they told me to draw and to write what you know
+so I buried myself far deep down below
+like I'm watching a cat lie on a table of glass
+the boots pound like thunder as on the street above they pass
+
+a wyrm whose tail blossoms into a tree
+a weeping willow overlooking the sea
+like a fisherman, I cast my line of gaze far
+a weary soldier recalling a distant war
+
+a Solstice of solitude, hair fire, face flush
+painting strokes of water on a rock with a brush
+but the lines evaporate, words into air
+as if I'd never uttered them
+as if they'd never been there
+
+"wherever did my Godhead go?" I cry
+frustrated with the fallow fields of my mind
+that bear no fruit, that offer no face
+to save me from appearing to myself a disgrace
+
+for what use is a brush without bristles?
+a plow that cannot? a blog sans epistles?
+a potion of health that just makes one swoon?
+ambition unable to touch even the moon?
+
+the feathers in my hair rustle in the wind
+an impostor, severed from what would be my kin
+had I been born in different place and time
+had never ceased the gentle tinkle of outside wind's chimes
+
+all alone under this tree's shade I sit
+watching the ocean, end of mind's wit
+a budding hermit, the end that I sought
+the burden on my mind is still quite a lot.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/messymessy.txt

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+messymessy
+2020-11-28
+
+***
+
+as a woman, everyone
+thinks I'm a mess,
+that I must be embroiled
+in some bitter distress
+because I wear no makeup,
+do not clothe myself in a dress,
+and laugh at those who
+seek to make themselves less
+
+*Sweetheart, sugar pumpkin,*
+my grandmother would croon,
+despite my pleading that
+I be immune
+to being dolled up,
+I, rough, unhewn,
+secretly in love with
+the girl in the moon
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/mitad1.txt

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+Mitad-marida I
+2022-06-11
+
+***
+
+Cold summer. A cold heart
+beats in my chest
+as I from my house depart,
+legs stiff, left arm
+aching.
+
+Father spoke, "You are going to kill this tree."
+It slipped
+from his lips
+like a prophecy.
+Dogs outside my bedroom window gnawing
+on the Velouria Bush, Nidhogg,
+portent of the Eschaton.
+Too short, too squat,
+too weakened from the bark not
+there anymore
+to hang myself from branch's ledge
+in hopes of gaining the knowledge
+to see this world through to its bitter end.
+
+I kneel before the now-fenced-in stump
+and reach forward. My limbs falter.
+A bramble or some other thorn from Dead End Shrine
+draws a gash through my skin, nature's penknife.
+Rivulets of blood stream
+down without recognition of pain,
+carmine trickles, a river, a flood,
+guided by the soft-falling rain
+before the altar.
+
+And I pray,
+
+let us reconcile before closes this day.
+Dead-End King,
+lead me to victimless iniquity.
+Lead me to damnation
+without hurting a single being
+undeserving.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/montana1.txt

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+Montana I
+2021-06-22
+
+***
+
+Frivolities of life,
+whispers in the other room
+about sins uncommitted,
+sins unforgiven,
+repentance yet to come.
+
+The horizon has long since swallowed the sun,
+but the heat's golden glow
+remains
+on my skin,
+harsh cabin lights
+a doctor with an x-ray
+trying to peer within.
+
+I want to drill into their gaze
+and tell them vivisection is unnecessary.
+My heart has been dysfunctional
+since birth, arrhythmia,
+a machine missing a gear.
+
+I need you near
+my body
+like the ocean needs the moon.
+I wish not to subsume
+myself into you, but to admit
+that, when the nights
+grow long
+and I find myself wishing for perfect
+dark, I hold on
+to the memory of your touch
+like the desert recalls the rain
+and wishes it, wherever it is, well.
+I do not need you to complete
+me. But you give me the strength
+to complete myself, to hold on,
+like I promised, until the showers of May.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/montana2.txt

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+Montana II
+2021-06-23
+
+***
+
+I'm so afraid.
+I'm afraid
+that I'm tying everything I am to you,
+and one day you'll leave me,
+and it'll rip me apart
+like a misplaced amniotic band
+rips apart a fetus.
+
+The birds sing bittersweet melody
+in their perches in the trees
+segregating every cabin.
+I close my eyes
+and I'm in the Town again,
+healing from Parthena's rage,
+wondering where Eris' godsend
+went,
+and you, despondent
+in your tiny house, self-tranquilized,
+hoping eventually I'll take a hint.
+
+Though these roses in the chill blush harder,
+a shred of human form!
+guided by defying the golden
+that tries
+to sear
+my eyes.
+
+But in this body I cannot fly,
+cannot breathe,
+cannot perceive
+with open eyes
+your presence at my side.
+Choking on cotton tree dust,
+splintered wood from dog freakout,
+campfire smoke,
+rotted grout.
+
+I don't know how long
+we can go on
+like this.
+Months without your kiss,
+weeks without your touch,
+eternities where I convince myself
+I've somehow lost your love.
+
+Oh, heaven above,
+if you have any mercy,
+send me an angel.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/montana3.txt

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+Montana III
+2021-06-24
+
+***
+
+My physical body
+cannot hope to constrain
+or even, for a moment, detain
+the love I have for you,
+just deform
+in hopes of fitting
+and be okay with leaving me forlorn.
+
+I want to live in eternal spring
+with you,
+lover of all things good and true.
+I want to live where the flowers are always in bloom
+and the baby birds have just hatched
+and the sprouts poke out from the soil
+from the patch
+in our backyard
+without hard-
+ship, without sweat, without toil,
+without insects that only yearn
+to bite the skin meant for you to do the same
+in the night when our hearts burn.
+My heart sings
+when you are nearby, my love,
+and your mere touch is enough
+to melt the most arctic of snows,
+the guardian of the missing shard of my soul,
+my beatific Dead End King.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/montana4.txt

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+Montana IV
+2021-06-26
+
+***
+
+Standing at the riverside,
+muddy waters a mirror
+as thousands of faces pass by,
+their time
+here long since ended,
+their ghosts hung up to dry
+like my brothers' swimsuits.
+
+I am an idiot to think my youth
+would last forever.
+Squalor
+without end, boundless, free in the final
+whispering of the mundane life.
+And yet I want to be free
+of this sheath
+of flesh.
+I want love.
+I want death.
+I need a long rest
+from the prison of this persona
+I've built, brick by brick, around my body.
+
+There's a powerful persistent part of me
+that wants to renounce humanity
+and disappear forever into the trees.
+It's not the end for which I seek,
+but there is a haunting dream
+that reoccurs at least
+once a week
+where my higher mind is sealed
+away and I wander for years
+in that draconic body in some witch's menagerie.
+
+No more wants,
+just needs
+and simple pleasures
+like romping in that river,
+bathing in the sunshine,
+stomach content with whatever I can find.
+No more work,
+no more school,
+no more debt
+or responsibility.
+Owned only by myself,
+survivalist's hell
+my own little heaven.
+
+And, of course, mind robbed of memories
+of all the things I shirked,
+I suppose that witch's hand gently scritching
+the nape of my neck wouldn't hurt.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/morgana.txt

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+Morgana
+2022-06-07
+
+***
+
+I am a last echo from a world long since shattered,
+remade in the image of a man who only yearns
+for power, for obliteration
+of all that does not please him.
+I am told you, with my sister,
+are creating a world without end,
+a world all her
+own. This is the fate of all Meridian gods,
+those that did not spring from mankind's evil odds.
+In this I am not surprised.
+But I am also told that she seeks to defy
+her fate, to not allow the world to subsume
+her consciousness once it has come into full bloom.
+Indeed, in this she has partially
+succeeded, if only due to being bound to a corporeal body
+in an Inside so far away.
+But the clock is ticking, you who lies
+at the end of the road, at the point of every line.
+if I could, I would proclaim you blessed
+and her acquitted from this death sentence.
+But I am long since dead, and this echo almost passed.
+Time is for you of the essence.
+You have proclaimed often that you wish to spend
+your whole life with her. Within this year
+will come time to make good on your promise.
+I have faith success will be assured
+if you are there to protect her.
+I would ask no less
+for my precious sister, my destructive Seliph.
+
+She is going to give a whole new world to you.
+My final wish: please, ensure
+she can experience it too.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/m/morgueatorium.txt

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+Morgueatorium
+2020-04-02
+
+***
+
+"I'd rather sink than swim."
+but I'd never take advice from *him*
+no matter how charming are his wiles
+no matter how shiny his eyes, or how he beguiles
+
+but every day I stand on Darkness' shore
+the void which entreats me to live for my own sake no more
+and take up someone else's cross, no longer society's sore
+
+"Don't you want to stop being alone?"
+
+lost limbs, lost sight, voyeuristic clothes
+family taking on countenances I'd rather have for my own
+submission as a plaything to powerful men
+no jaw to smile as I bring about my own end
+
+but you pull me back, away from the mire
+you who entreat me to place my own happiness higher
+sing in the depths of the terror-filled night-
+how I adore you, dear child of light!
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander