Friday, May 20, 2011

A myth...

The sun is shining and the tin soldier marches on. Its body filled with reminant emotions.

In its belly sits fear, with her swollen belly and sunken eyes. Waiting for her inevitable and poetic demise.

But alongside fear sits empathy, unmoved. Dressed in his neutral uniform, blending in well with his walls.

Somewhere in the back hope is waiting, singing, bouncing and alive. The others turn to look and feel its too early for hope to begin beaming. The day has just started, this tin soldier has just started moving, the sun is shining just enough hope down for them. It's pretencious for hope to begin dancing.

Always best to stay quiet before the attack. 

In the front sits wisdom; stoic, cracking under the bright sunlight. She's seen many battles and has no use for hope or fear. Her battles are fought with a silent knowledge of the future, a mutual agreement with death.

And in the heel sits heartbreak. Planting her feet firmly to the ground, she understands she is weak, but knows te outcome of these wordless companions. She knows that once the clash has begun, they'll all seek her and ask the infinite question, "why?"

So she must remain unseen, hidden and protected until she is needed to fill this tin soldier's cavity.


They'll ask.

Because, she'll say, when the soldier went to battle, you kept to your stations.

Hope let fear's belly burst open and was drown out by the cries.

Wisdom did not lend a hand to empathy and he faded so far into his wall, he engulfed the soldier.

And here you all are now.

But the sun is still shining, and maybe tomorrow the tin soldier shall prevail.

Blessed heart...

I was sitting there thinking,
Who was it,
Who said it? Camus? Wilde?
"blessed are the hearts that bend, for they do not break."
And there I was
Sitting there, melting
Like one of Dahli's clocks
Falling over the sides of that seat
Repressing memories into a box too full
Yanking them out of a heart too fool
Shuddering, melting, wanting to bend so far I could slither away
So one day they'd tell the story of a girl
Who could bend so much,
Whose heart could burn so much
That she melted down into puddles of rain
Where the ducks and dragonflies swam
And she never had to feel pain
She had such a blessed heart
Such a cursed heart
Because it never broke
Sitting there, clutching my dammed heart
Melting over the sides
Turning my body into rain
I cursed, I cursed and cursed some more
Because I thought it would never break
I filled it with your words, and your stories of time and space
and the idea that
there was such a thing as desitny...
And that time and space existed infinitely in such a small, dense organ
And that destiny
Was real.
My head was finally on the floor
And my eyes were staring at the sky
I laughed, because I thought about one of your stories
Nebulas and infinite planets, all waiting
So I let go of my foolish heart
And let it burst
I know you'll whisper your stories of nebulas and stars to ears
who will stare at you in awe
Because how could it be that you
Could fill her heart.
I'l whisper my story to the passing ducks and dragonflies:
Blessed are the hearts that burn
Ignite the memories seared into our souls.
Foolish stories of foolish hearts of foolish girls.
Shuddering. Broken.