Lemon Dew

I lie in the grass at the foot of the mossy mountain cliff
feeling the dew fall onto my face, into my mouth
bathing my tongue with gentle lemon fragrance

from the tree above

petals swirl in the breeze, wafting gentle yellow/pink over azure
it seems that the clouds become the petals, or the petals the clouds
a dream of gentle color washes on a tired canvas


(c) 2011

Hail And Farewell

I am falling...from the balcony...I am dreaming...of all that once-has-been...of the meadow where you looked into the sky...like you knew the answer...of the stream we walked...of the mossy stones and darting fish and water tumbling over the blue-water-sky...I am singing that song you loved...before you slipped from reality...I am loving the hate I feel...the bitter contentment...but I don't walk alone anymore...there was a helping remembrance...it made me dream of a dream I had the night after...I was running after you...but you were faster...but I fell...so you helped me stand...and we were running together...I don't cry anymore...I'll see you one day...walking along...the shade of the past remembering...sitting on your shoulders...pushing you down...I'll wave and smile...and maybe I'll stop...but it will never be what it once was...ave atque vale



(c) 2011

Blue

There was a hole in her heart

A hole in her soul

Pierced through with silver

There was a red dress on the floor

Crumpled and torn

Dead as a flower in a storm

There was an arm on the bed

Bleeding, Bleeding

There was a head by the door

Crying, Crying, Crying

There as a knife in her hand

Shining in bloody glory

There was a note on the window

It said Sorry For The Mess, Will Be Back Soon

There was a shadow on the wall

Creeping, Crawling,

Towards the woman in bed

She was lying

With one arm and no head

There was a woman, a woman, a red dress

There was a girl, a girl in green

There was a boy, barely a teen

There was a baby, neither one nor the other

And there was the man who had killed them all

Creeping, Crawling

Towards the Woman,

Towards the Girl,

The Boy

The Other

All in bed

With a woman who had once worn red

She is sleeping, Sleeping

And the knife falls silently

Blinking like a Sultry maiden

In a blue ball gown.

(c) 2011

Pirth

Alia Jones watched. She always watched. The blue-green veins in her face pulsed sickeningly. And Ajax Pirth regretted creating this monster from the eyes of his lost love. Simple chemistry, he had thought. Now, as he looked back on his decision, remembering how he had created this being, his heart hung heavy in the jar on his desk.

Alia Jones kissing him…promising to be his bride…falling, falling from that cliff after her…trying to save her…failing…then his seemingly brilliant idea, to re-create her from her eyes…his tears that he had survived the plummet from the cliff, and she had not…then his work in the lab, perfecting a serum that would keep her eyes alive…and then creating her, this strange, fearsome woman.

His hands shook as he carefully removed the eyes from the small bowl of serum, as he saw how they still moved, still saw, how they remembered. He, Ajax Perth, had found that the eyes were the storage-sheds of the brain, like two memory chips lodged firmly in the skull. He sighed as he slipped them into a bath of iodine, to purify them before insertion. Before him on the slab was a beautiful woman…Alina’s doppelganger, created from the DNA in her eyes. A blue-green bloodlike fluid pulsed in her veins. A metal heart beat in her breast, crafted from pure silver. He slid the eyes into the sockets left empty. And she blinked.

He set his cup on the desk and sighed. After that, everything had gone wrong. She became a monster, but worst of all she hated him. She blamed him for her predicament.

“Alia?”

“…yes…” her voice purred from the lamplit hallway from where she had been watching him.

“help.”

“…why…” she whispered

“help me fix my mistake, Alia, please.”

“…no...I like the way I am, Ajax. I never wanted to die…you…you kept me from that.” She sounded close to tears. Pulse, pulse…the blue-green under her skin shone in the light.

“I could fix my mistake, Alia. I know what went wrong.”

“…no…”

Ajax fell off his chair. The-girl-who-was-once-Alia Jones watched, but did nothing. She could remember feeling love for the man inn front of her, but that was gone. She had not wanted to die, yes, but she had not wanted to be recreated either.

Ajax felt his heart fall to pieces in the jar on his desk. He sighed as his mind fled, his eyes growing bright, then dimming.

“I’m…sorry” he said with his last breath. And he was gone. But his eyes remembered. Alia knew this, and took advantage of it.

Her long, curved fingers gently plucked them out and slid them into a bowl of greenish almost-liquid.

They would keep for long enough. All she wanted were his memories, after all.

(c) 2011

Black and White

black rose bloom
in white lily tomb

black rose
petals of night
curl
in light

white lily
petal-tomb
enfolded
by the night
glows like the moon


white lily
rise and open
to the black rose night


(c) 2011