ladymirth: (work it baby)
2009-06-28 10:50 pm
Entry tags:

Presenting my kid sister!

The Kid Sister is usually a pain in the butt, but occasionally she does something that makes feel glad I have managed to stop myself walloping her over the head with a frying pan while growing up. Today, she's written a poem about her boy troubles, and a very good one at that. It bears traces of one who has been possessed by the spirit of Dorothy Parker. That woman is remarkably insiduous. Plus, that writing seminar I sent her off to seems to have paid off.

Anyway, I'm just going to post it up here in a show of sisterly pride. I'm rather gratified that the rhyming gene seems to  run in the family after all. I was worried I was some sort of genetic aberration. 

To the innocent lady
by [livejournal.com profile] koel18 

Lady, as you walk the streets,
The pretty boys will stare,
But there are ones you should not greet,
So lady, do beware.

When you're alone, there'll be one,
Who speaks words sweet and kind,
But when to him fair friends beckon,
To you, he's deaf and blind.

There's one to whom you are dirt,
He loves to make you cry,
Lady, hit him where it hurts,
As you pass him by.

And should a silver-tongued one say,
"I'd never lie to you",
Oh lady, do run fast away!
And find a friend more true.

There'll be one, not so bad,
(Good and handsome too!)
But lady, 'tis very sad-
He has no time for you.

Though I tell you this I know,
You will not heed advice,
For it takes mistakes and sorrow,
To make us fools more wise.

So lady, go on on your way,
And give romance a whirl,
You'll find your charming prince one day,
(Most likely it's a girl.)

 

I shall continue to be the proud and affectionate sister, right up until she next does something that makes me long for China's one child policy. Which should be in about ten minutes. 
 

ladymirth: (dream)
2009-06-27 09:57 pm
Entry tags:

Poetry or prosaic?

I sent my sister to a workshop on poetry writing in my place today, since I am not yet over the flu. Apparently, they were asked to answer the following question: What does the moon taste like?  

If I were there, here's how I would have answered:

What does the moon taste like?
Asked she; I blinked
Pondering this for some witty 
Rejoinder; a deep observation 
Or an intricate fancy 
I could weave into meaningful
But ambiguous prose. None
Came to mind. That bright 
Silver penny hung up in the sky
Filled my mind’s eye
Smiling a bald man’s silly gap-
Toothed grin at my childish
Night-terrors; sending them
Skulking back into shadows
Like thrashed bullies.  
‘Tis a most unusual query! 
What does the moon taste like?
I declare I don’t know. 
I have my pick of cakes and teas; 
And am not in the practice
Of causing grave offence
By nibbling on my friends. 

What do you think? 
ladymirth: (dream)
2009-06-12 11:26 pm
Entry tags:

I don't even know where this one came from

To my newborn

You feel so small
In my hands
Satin soft, down-dropped
Head so fragile
I want to listen
To your heart beat
Watch you sleep
A sweet, stolen while

I wonder what
It is you dream
An old man’s wrinkle
On your brow
Do you remember
The angels’ faces
That sent you to me
From above?

This world is so big
Full of terrors
And wonders you can’t
Yet understand
But be unafraid
I am with you
My thumb anchors
Your tiny hand

You seem so new
But are you old in soul
As we see an aged 
Star's young light?
Your crinkled eyes
Opened in surprise
Rival this entire
Bejeweled night

One day when
You are tall and strong
All a-grown and
I have passed on,
I’ll be watching you sleep
Visit you in dreams
Loving you 
From Beyond.  

 
ladymirth: (dream)
2009-06-11 11:02 pm
Entry tags:

one day I'll convince myself that writing poetry is not a productive use of time

Lost

This cavern just keeps
On burrowing deeper
No light at the end;
Maybe forever
Tunneling just beneath
The sunlit surface
Either way
It doesn’t matter
Because I am now
Resigned to blindness
This airy void is
All I remember
Save for shadows
In my mind
The light that cast
Them, long expired

It’s been so long since
I’ve felt my extremities 
I wonder if they
Still exist
I can’t tell whether I’m
Still alive or
Merely just a soul
Cast adrift?
I’ve missed the sun
For so long
I’m afraid it might now
Burn out my eyes
I’ve forgot the feel
Of the wind in my face;
It all almost seems a
Half-dreamt lie

I’ve been swallowed
In darkness so long
I’ve lost all hope
Of the light
I’m racing past
The core of the Earth; maybe
I’ll yet see you
On the other side.  


ETA: Oh, shit. I just realized I've written this to the tune of "The Call" from Prince Caspian.  
ladymirth: (dream)
2009-06-07 02:48 pm
Entry tags:

While I'm at it, here's another one...





The Consequences of Cowardice


She pressed her hands
to the glass as a child,
Then promised to go out
and greet the flowers today
But it looked like rain
and she was afraid of the bees,
So she stayed in till the winds
had blown them all away

She heard the sea gulls
call as a girl
And she raced outside
to meet their cry
But the gates fell shut
and hemmed her in
She hammered her fists
with a relieved sigh

She was a young lass when
she saw the tall spire,
Of the clock tower, rising
above the city lights
She would gain the highest tier,
high as her heart desired
When she learned the secret
of unfalling flight

She was a middle-aged maid
when she saw the stars falling
And knew she would never
know where they fell
For she had lived her life pinning
dreams against her ceiling
And made her childhood home
a lonely cell

She was an old woman dying
when she felt the wind blowing
Towing with it the thousand
scents of the earth
Once, her thoughts in their wake
would be following
Now she cared naught for other
than her home and hearth

She was a corpse when they buried her
just beyond her door
In an unmarked grave soon
become unknown
And in her decaying sleep she still
lies there waiting
Till the day she can face
the world on her own

ladymirth: (comfort jwm)
2009-06-07 10:46 am
Entry tags:

Don't call me a drama queen unless you've walked a mile in my shoes.

The Other Woman

She keeps a-coming to see me
Though her eyes detest my face
When they rake over me I know
How graceless be my visage

She looks at me in fury
Her cruel mouth a-scowl
I look back in reciprocity
With a grimace just as foul

Sometimes she catches me alone
And watches me rail and writhe
In the face of my distortion
She seems to satisfy

I have seen no kindness in her
No compassion for my fate
That I must ever endure
Her unreasoned hate

If only she would loathe me less
Just enough to stay away
I’d rather nonexistence
Than be belittled day by day

I throw her moods back in her face,
Matched every snarl and tear!
We’ve drowned together in seas of rage;
Each other learned more to fear

If free will I could summon,
To ask what wrong I’ve done!
For I am just the mirror-woman,
And she the real one.

You know who this was inspired by. =) Feedback is, as always, welcome. 
ladymirth: (scrose2)
2009-06-03 08:27 pm
Entry tags:

First Attempt at Song-Writing

 This is my first attempt at:
a) writing what is intended to be a song
b) based on a completely impersonal experience
c) that deliberately emulates the simple, non-profound lyrics in pop culture
d) that anyone should be able to relate to.
So please tell me what you think. 


Getting Over You

You've been gone a long time
I've been trying to move on all this while
Trying to pack away my feelings
To sort through and understand;
Which I still don't, but I'm dealing
With how it is as best as I can

(Chorus)
Sometimes I think I still love you
Sometimes I think I hate you 
Like I've never hated anyone before
Sometimes I think I've broken free
But then I know deep inside of me
That I'm not over you at all 

But when you visit me at night
Your face shining like a light 
Against the dark of my dreaming eyes
Then I can ask you finally
Why you did what you did to me
Was it love for you or just another lie?

(Chorus)

Did you hurt too when you hurt me?
Do you understand or won't you see?
Are you so wrapped up in your head
That why I left is still a mystery
Or is it a story you tell differently,
That makes you right with no regrets?

Now have you moved on, left me behind?
Am I just a memory, brushed aside? 
If I wasn't worth loving, even a little hate will do
I hope I haunt your days and dreams long
After I'm done writing silly songs 
Trying all this while to move on, and get over you... 
ladymirth: (comfort jwm)
2009-05-05 05:59 pm
Entry tags:

Doggerel with glints of poetry

Songs for the Soul

A song played on the radio
Sweet notes and simple words
Recalling happy times before
World-weary woes and hurts

Joy for joy I’ll give, thought I
Plunder smiles long buried deep
Into soft lyrics crystallized
That into other souls may seep

And comfort lonely dawnings
Soothe their sorrowing nights
Sustain the joyless mornings
And evening's dying light

To see beyond pretenses
The scarring of past wrongs
In music find forgiveness
And set them free in songs

I set my song free long ago
Sweet notes and simple words
I yet may find it still echoes 
In a stranger's healing verse
 


Feedback is appreciated, as always.
ladymirth: (milkshake)
2009-05-02 10:32 am
Entry tags:

Non-emo poetry

When the Moon is Away…

A star peeped out a scouting eye
Unchaperoned in the moonless sky
Laughed in mischief, free to flirt
And dally with worshipful Earth

Out they ventured one by one
At first timid, but soon begun
Winking bold and merrily
To leap from night into the sea

The foamy lips of wine-dark waves
They lightly kissed with genteel grace
Then irreverent, proceeded to beflower
The ocean into a star-lit bower

Salt-scented winds shush on ignored
By heaven’s children and sea lords
Oblivious that their rare congress
Had sheathed the world in sequined dress

A thousand ships stilled in delight
And on board one, inspired wove I
These verses to immortalize
The wonder of that midnight tryst

What do you think? Imagery overload? Feedback is appreciated. =)
ladymirth: (hamlet)
2009-04-19 10:32 pm
Entry tags:

Lemme get mah Brood on!

Hamster Wheel

I am a hamster
Trapped in a world too large
Boxed in a cage too small
Food in trays
Water in bowls
Love in petting fingers
Safe in a home
I don’t belong
Nothing to do
But run on my play wheel
Run and run and run and run
Let it spin and spin and spin
Make it turn and turn and turn
For if it stops
I shall remember that
I am a hamster
Trapped in a world too large
Boxed in a cage too small
Remember that
I don’t belong
And never will.


 
ladymirth: (comfort jwm)
2009-04-12 08:15 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

First Love

I loved you first
When I was still too young
To know what love was
Other than a notion
As pretty and detached
As a song or a story
Or a star

I loved you first,
And didn’t know.
Because they told me
Love is patient;
When I was goading
Love is kind;
Our cruel words cutting
Love is never jealous;
I wanted your secrets
Whispered only to me
Love is never boastful
Nor proud and yet we
Were both young braggarts
Your condescending airs
Making me want
To beat you within
An inch of your life

Love isn’t selfish;
I wanted you to myself
To make you remain
As you were; against nature
At the expense of your dreams
Love isn’t quick-tempered;
My ire flashed
Tongue out-lashed
And left us both bleeding
Incessantly.
And yet, now I know
Contrary to all description
It was love
Misunderstood; misguided
Forgive me now
For there was no way then
I could have known
Because
I loved you first.

We were too young to know
That love was more
Than a song or a story
Or a star
So we lashed out in fear
And burned in tears
And let slip the years
In unspoken hurts
Until love became
A cancerous growth
That stunted self-worth
And leeched us dry
Of all we could be
Until the card-house toppled
The camel's back gave
The dams burst and flooded
In something like hate
And I finally ripped you
From my life
My heart and my home
And then I first knew 
I had loved you.

Long nights of tumult 
And gaping days later
My wound is almost
Cauterized and scabbed
If still throbbing
And sore
I love another now
Another who loves me
A love that is patient and kind;
Only jealous betimes,
Not at all boastful nor very proud
Never, ever selfish
Nor often angered.

All I have of you now
Are faded letters,
And a dull ache that varies
With weather and memories
That ambush by day;
Hide in dreams by night
Where we meet again
Forgiving and forgetful
Uncaring and joyful
Our record of wrongs
Erased and purged
The way we were
When we were too young
To know love could hurt
That songs had more beauty
Was stranger than story,
Far less safely distant
Than a star
The way we were when
I loved you first.

 
ladymirth: (calvin euphoria)
2009-04-10 01:10 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

Abstract Repartee

What came first, Nothing or Something?
Why, Nothing, of course.
How do you say that?
Because Nothing means Void,
Which is the absence of Creation,
And if Creation were absent,
Then there could only have been Void
At first.

Ah! But if Nothing means
The Absence of Something
Then if Something were not there first
How could it be known to be Absent?


Perhaps, in the beginning there was Void,
But without the awareness of Void
Engendered by Creation
It was merely named Void in retrospect?
For example, I AM alive now
But I was not before I was born
Even though, I could not
Have known I was not alive
Until I was born, and with it
Granted awareness that, in retrospect,
I was not alive before.

It seems sloppy work then,
To merely say,
“In the Beginning there was Nothing”
Instead of “In retrospect, there
Was Nothing in the Beginning”
In any case, what beginning
Could there be, without awareness?
For, are not true beginnings
Begot in awareness?

If Awareness were the sole
Validation for Beginnings
And Creation equaled awareness
Then Void would not have a place
In existence at all
Which it does, as void equals zero
And zero precedes one,
Even without having a value
And yet exists in sequential numbering

No, it does not.

….What?

Zero is a number tolerated
Only so it may illustrate
The absence of numbers
But have you ever seen a book
Beginning with Chapter Zero?

Are you saying Void
Does not really exist?

Of course, it exists.
For if Void is the absence of Creation
And if Creation is to be absence of Void
Then one cannot be without the other.
The question posed, was:
What came first, Nothing or Something?

I think it is clear by now
Philosophically and numerically
That if Nothing were to exist at all
And exist it does
It necessarily preceded Something

Ah! But what if, in the Beginning
There was Something, or Creation
Then it was taken away, becoming Nothing
And then the Void were replaced
By Creation once more?

...
There can be only one conclusion
For this debate, good sir.
Yes? And what is it, pray tell?
That one must never attempt
To search for philosophical enlightenment
Without a cup of tea.

 
ladymirth: (hamlet)
2009-02-23 11:06 pm
Entry tags:

Rationalizing Melodrama

 As the deafening vacuum of air

Starves out the furious flame,
 

As the hammering sheets of rain

Subdues into mud the snake-
 
-coils of suffocating dust,
 


As the destructive wake 
 
Of an undammed flood
 

Submerges the animal detritus 
 
Out of sight and mind,
 


As the hacking cough 
 
Dislodges the phlegmy refuse

From a tortured windpipe,
 

Such relief is the stage to me

The sharp inhale of theatricality

Exhaled gustily in an abandon 

Of melodrama


Flushing out the pin-pricks,

The poisons and pollutants,

Of my malaise-riddled spirit
 

To breathe in sweet release

But for a moment.  

ladymirth: (damn)
2008-11-17 02:34 pm
Entry tags:

Fall

Fall to Liberation

Snip away the fetters
Of your kin from your skin
Snip! Snip! Snip! 

Glory in the numbness
Of their bleeding sting
Sting! Sting! Sting!

Whipping winds halo you
As you spread your wings
Whip! Whip! Whip!

Beneath the high ledge
Peace smiles beckoning
Beckoning! Beckoning!

Good bye to the minute life
Scurrying between your feet
Good bye! Good bye!

Fall forward into Heaven's arms
And breathe in deep
Deep! Deep! Deep!

Fly a diving glide
In Death’s sure slipstream
Fly! Fly! Fly!

Let Fate’s comforting cradle
Drown you in sweet sleep
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!

Hissing air flays off your cares
In Gravity’s grip
Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!

The Earth rises for a final blow
And then…only bliss
Bliss! Bliss! Bliss!


ladymirth: (tag sparrow)
2008-11-15 10:40 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

I wish I were an acrobat
Make my body most compact
Fold myself a full-body limb lock
And stow away inside a box 
ladymirth: (hamlet)
2008-11-15 09:35 pm
Entry tags:
ladymirth: (milkshake)
2008-11-14 11:04 pm
Entry tags:

I haz NaNo Poem

The Wannabe Poem

There was ink and paper,
A rhyme and meter
Words longing to flow deft and quick.
Now it is here,
Unique with no peer,
Of its kind, a true maverick!
An idea-less poem,
That sure would show 'em - 
A new literary trend; how idyllic!
And only Philistines
Would relegate these lines
To the realm of an ignoble limerick.

If I hate McCain for anything, it's for not being able to use the word "maverick" without associating it with him. Argh! 

ladymirth: (calvin euphoria)
2008-11-12 04:57 pm
Entry tags:

The consequences of reading Dorothy Parker too long and too late

In Honor of Dorothy Parker

Who needs babies, homes and lovers?
When I have mischief, pens and papers
The ink shall run blood, bone and tears
That’s been my miser’s gold of years

My pain shall transform into prose
Tomfoolery into wisdom wrought
I’ll pick apart my scabbed sores
For red ink never so dearly bought 

I’ll wrench every hurt from this heart of mine
And viciously count them literary dimes
Where other women’s eyes leak useless brine
I’ll weep bitter poems and limerick rhymes

I’ll dress my dreams in gilt and sequins
To tempt and capture the naïve young
I’ll barb my ideals in weary witticisms
To appease the cynical senile ones

Say! Fine lady and dashing gents,
Won’t you buy my pretty lines?
Woo fine society for a few cents
Cheaper than high art or French wine

And when I’m dead, they’ll take the scripts,
In whose ink dries my life’s sum total
They’ll point and ponder and critique
And hail me another unhappy immortal


ladymirth: (contained excitement)
2008-11-11 02:37 pm
Entry tags:

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Sunday
On Sunday life will begin at dawn
On Sunday glad my heart will be
On Sunday my pills will all be gone
And I will at last come home to me

On Sunday the world will spin slow again
On Sunday I’ll feel my fingertips
On Sunday I’ll walk in straight lines
And not feel my heart against my ribs

On Sunday I’ll feel the want of food
On Sunday I’ll taste sweet water
On Sunday chocolates will make life good
And I will be again my parents' daughter

On Sunday my house won’t be a brown study
On Sunday will go my mother’s frowns
On Sunday I’ll upend Dad’s glass of whiskey
And he will have no more tears to drown

On Sunday I’ll begin to be a friend
On Sunday I’ll be a lover true
On Sunday I’ll learn to care again
And those I’ve spurned, once more I'll woo

On Sunday I’ll learn if the doctor lied
On Sunday I’ll learn if there is a God
On Sunday I’ll learn if my demon has died
Or all my hopes have been for naught

 
ladymirth: (hamlet)
2008-11-10 02:33 pm
Entry tags:

Creative Complaining

Anomie

There is no thought in my head
Only a handful of brain cells
Tickling my skull
Like marbles trapped within a rattle
There are only vague feelings
Of contempt for my past
Surrealism of my present
And hollowness for the future
I am not there
Only an image that people see
Through the eyes of their memory
And expectations
Voices tell me who I am
Where I go and what I want
And yet, "I" do not exist
As though the astral umblical cord
Attaching self to my being
Has detached  and self-aborted
Leaving only a bleeding
And barren womb

Depression

My heart rams itself
Against my lungs
Tries to claw its way
Out through my throat
Trying to leave this body
Without substance
My soul trickles out
Day by night
Beneath my heavy eyelids
Escaping the vaccuum of mind
My breath counts lessen
My limbs atrophy
Death taking me
In all but physiology

Numbness

I forget the beauty of the waking world
I forget the breath from lightened lungs
I forget the taste of want and thirst
I forget the feel of rain and sun

These things will no more encumber
My quest to cease my tremoring mind
Wandering a land between death and slumber
I crave only the peace of benumbed night