first commit

poetry/g/garden-gym.txt

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+a garden in the corner of a gym
+2020-01-16
+
+***
+
+the presiding queen rules over her patch of concrete
+resentful of the hole in her chest, woefully incomplete
+and her knees and shoulders have betrayed her too many times
+so she sits on her patch and looks down on us from up high
+
+a coercive building made of ancestors' malice
+she watches the children as she sips from chalice
+contorting their bodies in impossible ways
+but no empathy resides in her stony gaze
+
+all bow down at the command of a robotic voice
+programming the class to believe they have no choice
+to bend, extend, repeat, give false confession
+rear ends in the air, youthful limbs ready for inspection
+
+rain's cold air banished, air stuffy and hot
+a door to freedom bolted shut and locked
+maybe, if we lift these weights on the count of ten
+we will lift ourselves straight up to heaven
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/g/gemini.txt

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+Gemini
+2020-06-19
+
+***
+
+the cathedral's bells ring
+horseshoe mounted above the doorframe
+from the pastor's mouth drip words:
+"confess and you shall be made whole"
+
+you stand at the pulpit
+and proclaim to the congregation
+how holy you are,
+that you have rescinded control
+
+baptized in the claps,
+reborn as a shriveled
+ghost of who you once were:
+a person without a soul
+
+bloat as original sin
+that one needs to be absolved of,
+leaving behind the colors and joys
+beyond these gated walls
+
+"out yonder lives the devil
+with his malice and malware and pain;
+'tis an illusion that, beyond the wiles,
+he helps those alive stand tall"
+
+one in a sea of faceless
+made faceless yourself
+give your soul to the gods
+put your heart on the shelf
+
+a landscape of white
+and a monotone hum
+to spill your own blood
+earns a trip straight to hell
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/g/green.txt

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+green
+2018-02-22
+
+***
+
+does the rain in Spain really fall in the plain?
+what about the rooftops coated in sky's tears
+and empty nests flooded and damp to the point of disintegration
+
+I know it's just a silly rhyme
+but sometimes I wonder if the plain really isn’t a plain
+a line written by the depths of despair
+
+and now someone I hate could possibly know my true name
+not the one put on my birth certificate without my wanting
+but the one that stays hidden away, locked in a safebox
+my golden ticket out of this place
+
+I never wanted to be famous
+stalked or revered or worshipped
+all I've ever wanted is respect
+and a shred of understanding
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/g/the-golden-cage.txt

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+The Golden Cage
+2019-10-09
+
+***
+
+emboldened by sadness
+embittered by those
+who would meet you with winter
+you bite the thorns with the rose
+
+a bloody mess on the tile
+from mother's womb, freshly torn
+struggle to breath the poison air
+in which you were born
+
+the golden cage shudders
+the door swings wide open
+
+but you don't move.
+
+you sit there and stare.
+
+you tricked yourself into believing
+that it was your time to die
+and when the sun showed its head, you found out
+you'd lost the will to survive
+
+a tyrant in the home
+and a sorcerer in the garden
+conspire to make their kid a doll
+to watch as her once lithe limbs harden
+
+a dislocated jaw
+that only speaks when given scripts
+and a spine that's nothing but
+that collapses come a kick
+
+the needles come to play again
+you've already convinced yourself
+it was just a matter of when
+
+and they pin you up
+like the christ they adore
+
+and the red flows like syrup
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander