The Boy and the Stars
Under a sky that went on forever,
Sat the boy, staring up and wondering.
He wondered many things everyday
Where did the sky end?
Who hung the stars?
He’d have liked that job.
The stars always got so much attention.
Everyone looked up at them and
Spoke of them.
They were his constants in a world that had none.
He grew to a man and still he wondered
Not about the sky any longer
Nor about the stars
But now about his path.
The stars had always been there
He could depend on them still
But now he’d be on his own
He hoped the same ones would follow him
Would they light a different sky
In a far off place so he would feel safe?
The stars are still lighting his way.
And through hazel eyes he sees them
As his way to remember his home
at the other end of the endless sky he sat under as a boy.
Without a Life to Live
Lying plainly, writing poorly, with heat of envy on your cheek;
Staring sour, wishing dour, while smiling fake in your sleep,
Aloft a cloud in a solemn facade, wandering in your tainted way;
Writing lists of course and courage as you watch the crumbling days
Bending to the wind of pleasure in your cold, collected play.
You sing of harpies in your head; a feather without a home
Is a sad and sullen image; these monsters that you call your own
Listen to your every cry as the night takes your pain away,
Step through cold corners and warm rooms in their stay,
Watch the borders of your mind, counting wolves and blooded sheep,
Taking what they please away, choosing this and that to keep.
Hate isn't passion, it's a shallow writhing through your veins,
Love isn't empty, it's a mark of trust that leaves a stain;
Jealously is a lie,
But without it, certain things would change.
You'd never call across the ocean to that something that you need,
You'd never search the shattered rocks, never caring if you bleed,
Never opening the earth to finally plant a dying seed.
Yet, it came as no surprise when I finally slipped away.
You'd stolen far above the line, and in the light I couln't pay.
The dying roots that you pulled from my chest began to burn;
You said, "Without a life to live, your world will never turn."
La Luna
floating in a space so vast
darkness surrounds you fast
your light too prominent
makes you dominant
you are lightyears away from life
when you wane, there is strife
when you are waxing, you provide us sight
and fright lessens in the night
we need you for comfort when the sun falls
the prisoners always look desperately through the bars in the walls
to look at you, lonely and desolate
still you float there during the sunset
it seems you are always trying to catch the sun
i do not think you have ever won
maybe you are jealous
everyone talks about him being so precious
maybe you love him
but the universe thinks that's just a whim
this is the greatest love story
but a story without glory
it is a tragedy
that is your reality
you are destined to keep the same path
until the sun dies and everyone will feel his wrath
because he will die from heart break
because the universe made your heart ache
because he will never be able to hold you
and because of everything you've been put through
If I should someday fall from the sky
Or hit my a head a little too hard
Or any other event that causes me to die.
I wonder what fate awaits my soul so charred.
If energy can neither be created nor
Destroyed, then where does it go,
The energy that shifts and soars
From the world to me and to and fro
Will my soul open eyes to an afterlife?
Will my light echo through space and
Time like a fallen star felled by some strife?
What rest awaits our souls so burdened?
As you can see this is the best poem
Because it returns to that age old question
Picked at by philosophy, science, and religion.
Yes, indeed, it’s better than the rest of them.
