rhymes

Deep below
where the bones do grow
my heart beats
soft and slow

Up above
where once I loved
new lovers meet
in swift retreat

From prying eyes
that do espy
the short-lived amour
of fickle lies

Once I was one
under the sun
until my breat was pricked
in feigned fun.

one year, part 1

yesterday was one year since you passed away. you were like a grandmother to me, kind, gentle, and loving. i will always remember the way you smiled, the sunlight in your dining room, christmas in your living room. you were always proud of my accomplishments, of watching what i became and knowing who i was. i will miss seeing you when i go home, no longer able to visit with you for even a short while. though no new memories can be made for us, the ones i have i will hold fast to, always remembering, always loving, always family of the heart.

on religion

someone i know posted a very close-minded and homophobic thing today on facebook. it wasn't them reposting something that someone else put out there in the world, it was them posting their own thoughts and feelings. it was the type of thing that angered me. it angered me because it was the type of thinking that one has when they are indoctrinated and do not think fully for themselves, but instead thump their bible and preach the rhetoric that they have been told is truth. regurgitate it as though there is no other way of living except that which they have been told is the right and proper way. they give no thought to the fact that what they are railing against existed as a thing long before their precious religion was even a spark in someone's mind.

.:more after the jump:.

203

the ticking of a clock sounds in the old case. such is the magic of old things - they remember what they once were, what their intended purpose was - even after they have long fallen from such uses. the brass and gear, cogs and springs, are long gone. the wood painted, stripped, and aged with oiling. someone replaced a tack foot with a bigger plastic one that sets it off kilter. the writing on the back lists random dates - "1941", "95" (or is that "75"?) - and faint penciled words that cannot be interpreted. the paper inside indicates it is much older, but gives no date itself. at some point it appears that someone stuck stickers to the glass in an attempt to make the clock look more appealing and less plain. whatever history it had, it has a new future now full of a new purpose, full of new memories.

sometimes writing happens

my dark lover 

comes for me

in the space 

between

the land of dreams 

and the world awakened

where I am his

for the taking

lost

alone

ready for remaking

my dark lover

sets me free

along the currents

of the sea

where sunrise gilded

and twilight sated

i with him

alone

have waited

through longest days

and darkest nights

to set the world

with our love

alight.