And the word is...

[Pendragon]

Naked Is the Best Disguise

When you pour out your heart
And the basin cannot contain it—
Dripping emotions splatter
Blood drops on an ivory floor…

The mangled detritus of dreams
Like the path of a cyclone—
A path for which there’s no need for bloodhounds,
Too easy to see…

Tears leave carved out canyons
Along sharp-edged cheekbones—
Drip-drop from the overhang of an aquiline nose
To join the spots on the floor…

A sob like a shroud tearing,
Escapes the cage of bones in the chest—
Cold are the echoes,
Like the grim laugh of Death..

With all of this taking place
On Life’s Brightly Lit Stage—
Out there before you in plain sight—
How does my hurt remain so hidden from you?
How can my misery be the one thing that remains hidden from view?

Pendragon
© 9/19/07

[Granny5]

Beautiful, Pen.

[Granny5]

Unshared

Here I am
Alone
Lonely
Locked down
Till time to
Start over
Then I will be
Alone
Lonely
Locked down
Till time to
Start over
Then I will be
Alone
Lonely
Locked down
Till time to
Start over…….

[PrinceMyshkin]

Oh, my God, Granny, this is so sad! (But at least you managed to have the last word.... again!)

[Granny5]

I have now!!! (you have to sleep sometime, Prince.)

[Granny5]

Oh, my God, Granny, this is so sad! (But at least you managed to have the last word.... again!)

Prince, I didn't mean it to be sad, just the way things are.

[motherhubbard]

mom, that was clever

[Granny5]

mom, that was clever

I'm just a clever mom.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I have now!!! (you have to sleep sometime, Prince.)

In case you haven't noticed, Sweetie, half the time I do respond to you while asleep!

[Granny5]

In case you haven't noticed, Sweetie, half the time I do respond to you while asleep!

Well, I had noticed but didn't want to say anything. I though it might be an "age" thing.

[TheFifthElement]

Because ampoule asked so nicely...

Hide and Seek

You were always good at hiding.
I covered my eyes,
and counted
10,
9,
8…
… shouted
’coming, ready or not!’,
excited by the game
we’ve played so many times before.
I start behind the sofa,
peeking round looking
for two flat feet. Instead
I found your smile,
I put it in my pocket and it
warmed me through
the thick fabric.
Behind the curtain your
irrepressible humour
wriggled and jiggled
mischievous as always
and difficult to catch.
In the cupboard under
the stairs your modesty
hid quietly, shy as always
avoiding the limelight.
Your warm heart beat
beneath the bed obvious,
as always,
you never could hide it
no matter how you tried.
In the last place left to look,
the darkened wardrobe where
you would often slip between
the coats,
I opened the door
shouting boldly,
‘I found you!’.
There was nothing there.
And then, I knew
you were hiding for good,
and we would never
play again.

For Paul 1963 - 2007

[symphony]

That was terrific, Fifth.


And since I havent been in this thread for ages ...

The Hidden

I am tired
of being trussed within
the warmth of your heart,
tired of the veins
pumping blood all around me
all the time.

I am tired
of being intimidated
by these pounding beats
whenever she gets closer,
tired of being licked by
the jealousies inside you,
and of the vying loathings
fostered by you.

And I’m tired
of waiting
to be beckoned
for once
and for all.
Tired of waiting
for the flight out—
out from this clogged heat,
lapped in torrid words.

How long will it be
till the Me in me erupts?
I’m tired, of enduring
your vain endeavours
to keep me tamed,
stilled and hushed.

Let me out. Now.
I’m tired of being--
The hidden,
The forbidden.

[ampoule]

Hidden

Hey! You there!
Yes, you, over there in the corner.
Come here a minute, please.
Can you help me find something?
It's got to be here.
This is where I left it.
It can't just get up and walk away.
It's here.
I know it is.
Okay, that's it.
Yes! There!
Try right there.
Well?
Did you find it?
No?
Well try again.
Sometimes it moves when it's touched.
Be gentle.
Sometimes it breaks.
Warm?
Of course it's warm.
Well....it used to be.
Can't you get just a piece of it?
Oh, I forgot to tell you.
It has a mind of its own.
What's that you're saying?
You only work for plums?
Yeah, right.
Merry Christmas to you too.
amp, September TwentySecond, TwoThousandSeven

[Riesa]

Hidden


Here I go jaunty
out in rain
swelling the earth

slick purple
lends it’s ease to them
sliding off my hat

when I shake to scatter,
your murmur reaches,
sweeps aside
twisted locks
that once
bound ears
to all but rain.

and I listen,
small and hidden.

how it’s comfortable:

truth-telling
in the rain.

your truths
enter
my mouth
like bread,
tasting
fresh and hot,

we fall easily

into a rain-soaked slide

your murmur
cracks with
utopian hope;


but raindrops
aren’t enough,
for you.

[firefangled]

She sings of pins, the mouths of birds,
among the sheets her mother hangs,
of wings which rise with night
and stir the air of dreams throughout the house.

Monsignor tells her, God hides in song,
and waits for her at the hour of death.
She is more direct with spirit things,
dreams of Kyries to feed the wings of sleep.

Father guides the choir, gives her scales
she evaporates in meadow larks,
and thrushes on the way, the room left quiet,
hushed and still like unnoticed rain.

The sisters give her pages, signed with clefs,
and birds in cages fluttering solfeggios:
she sets them free before their paper clouds
in a sky the sisters do not see.

She sleeps in sheets crisp with the day.
Like will-o'-the-wisp her breathing winds
around the bed, the chair and past the open sill,
as birds wait silently in the unfinished air.