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poetry/p/perdition-eden.txt

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+Perdition from the Garden of Eden
+2019-08-08
+
+***
+
+Being exiled from the Garden of Eden
+for the crime of heresy to the heathens
+who dance in the twilight, praise to old gods on their lips
+and pass around a jug of man's tears, from which they take delicate
+sips
+
+Although I know in a man's arms I shall never stay
+I refuse to deny the way
+this heavy crown of bone hangs on my head
+a weighty reminder to things better left unsaid
+
+to those who would strip my individual rights
+in the pursuit of abolishing the male blight:
+Why should I believe that, with you, I'll be saved,
+when you'll gladly push the human race into the grave?
+
+My art is indicative of no other feelings than mine.
+How dare you attempt to claim a piece of my Divine!
+To follow a legacy of bitterness and hatred-
+No more! I will profane all you hold sacred.
+
+So tell me,
+why should I worship Aphrodite?
+Me, the loveless, forlorn,
+setting out alone on these foreign shores?
+
+Keep your rituals and your tribes.
+I refuse to waste my life
+subservient to a deity
+who would condemn me,
+forgetful, to
+die.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/p/prayer-dark.txt

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+prayer to dark
+2018-05-15
+
+***
+
+we were born in the summer rain
+the segway to autumn on the horizon
+pit-pattering on an old woman’s kitchen windowsill
+her own rain carving timeless canyons in her skin
+
+I never put much stock in the seven deadly sins
+until greed became my downfall
+and I traded my wings, my flight, my freedom
+for a measly amount of human gold
+
+instant regret
+
+hair sopping in the rain
+I picked myself up and pushed past the searing pain
+ribbons of ripped flesh still hanging off my back
+
+we turned our eyes away from the light
+so hard that we forgot how to see
+so we built our own heaven
+you and I, you and me
+
+together until the end
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/p/prayer-light.txt

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+prayer to light
+2018-04-19
+
+***
+
+planned obsolescence
+learned helplessness
+
+a window randomly swings open
+a door suddenly slams shut
+an escape hatch forms
+
+we trained our eyes to see the light
+never bothering to look ahead to the darkness under our feet
+the filth growing beneath the surface
+bubbling as it primes itself for betrayal
+
+we turned our faces to the sky so hard
+that we broke our own necks
+a pitiful penance for the sins of our fathers
+and a wasteful protection against the suffering of our children
+
+the connection to the heavens has been severed
+and we shall build our own ladder
+our own hands reaching to the sky
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/p/prepari.txt

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+prepari
+2019-03-05
+
+***
+
+tell me a story, midnight hands:
+from whence you came?
+and how did it feel
+when you shattered the sky
+intent on beginning again?
+
+your decisions I rue
+my judgement is marked false
+and you laugh at me now
+and ignore all my pained calls
+
+who was I ever, anyway?
+just a sick puppet in the back rows
+while you danced on stage
+an architect to both of our destructions
+
+so many nights, I lulled myself to sleep with dreams
+of being in a hospital bed, succumbed to the mercy of the knife
+my brain, with thoughts of a better future rife
+and a home near a lake where underneath bubbles teem
+
+midnight hands, instead of your customary way,
+there's something to you that I need to say.
+
+the muses pull me to cleave the night
+and leave this world unseen,
+but my work on this coil is not yet complete
+I thus mar my hands unclean
+
+to disappear, to forget, to bathe in the waters of Lethe
+but not everything in this damn world is as it seems
+five years of construction, undone by a night's drunken folly
+but already I've exhausted my long-deserved sorrys
+
+for what can you do when you're chained up on stage
+and whipped until the whole ocean's your grave?
+naught left to do but disappear into the foam
+and hope that whatever lingers above deems you worthy to roam
+
+"Why do you pain me so?"
+
+you have the gall to take my hand,
+to intertwine your fingers in mine,
+as I sit here alone in my room
+
+your head on my shoulder,
+your arm against mine,
+as you await my impending doom
+
+"Did you think, for a second, I'd let you down?
+Take this cloak,
+take my hand,
+lest you fall to the ground.
+I love you; I'll hide you as long as you need.
+It's the least I can do so that we both can succeed."
+
+I wait with bated breath.
+
+the wind howls outside
+and I remember- we stepped out into the night,
+armed with the poisons of our fathers
+and the weight of the world on our shoulders
+
+you don't know who I am.
+but then again, has anybody?
+
+the frost on the ground,
+crunching underfoot as lamp posts stretch out our shadows
+without a single sound
+resisting the urge to keep our heads low
+
+not going gentle into that good night,
+always you and I, the dark and the light
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/p/pressed.txt

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+pressed flower petals
+2019-02-27
+
+***
+
+a voyage to the deeps of my grandmother's basement
+where I was born in the fog and the mist
+in the midst of a dying god's death throes
+marking the genesis of my woes
+
+you and I sit a whole world away
+while in the wires tangled around my wrists we play
+neither here nor there nor anywhere
+
+sometimes I wonder if the best of my days are gone
+swept up in the wind and scattered to the horizon
+the only proof that this ever happened some hastily-scrawled poems
+and photographs of the places where we breathed
+and blushing pink flower petals, pressed in these pages for all time
+
+Independence Park, where the clouds used to go by,
+as a newborn, you cradled me tight and then watched me fly
+now, as I yearn to go back and remember who I am
+will you sing me one last lullaby?
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/p/psa.txt

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+Public Disservice Announcement
+2020-11-09
+
+***
+
+Imagine thinking that a senile
+rapist pedophile
+is coming to save you.
+
+You can shout and scream
+at freedom-lovers like me
+until your face turns red or blue,
+
+but in the end, it's the same
+state-inflicted pain
+from the boot that stomps on our throats.
+
+Would that the state did not impede
+my and others' quest to secede
+whether homesteading land or seasteading on boat,
+
+for I want a life all my own
+where I reap the full rewards of the seeds I have sown
+and the consequences of the actions I take.
+
+But you statists won't leave me in peace:
+you keep demanding I get on my knees
+and your totalitarian future to make!
+
+"The convenience you demanded is now mandatory."
+I am a fool to ever expect a sorry
+for inheriting a future so bleak,
+
+but no matter how much you beg me to be soft,
+I won't blind myself to that axe hanging aloft:
+I refuse to die mewling and weak!
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander