Some sonnets:
Can innocence abide the crooked law
Which floral memory is tainted by?
Must roses, ever waiting for the thaw
Mock my despair as, curious, I spy?
This habit is my strength as much as curse,
For indulging it has tighter sealed the gate;
But though I suffer, lightning has it worse,
Reliving ceaselessly this troubled fate
The judge condemns its beacon flash to stay;
He stunts this greatest radiance just as
Sweet Gerth in spite puts frost upon the way
All loving creatures used to use to pass.
Will lightning break the hold to melt the ice?
I do not know, but I shall pay that price.
--
A crude end to my pilgrimage has come
In form of note, sung by a bird of fire;
O how I loathe the beauty of the thrum
Whose sound, now sounded, must my ears expire.
No prior enemy was so adorned
But that whose arrow's impact makes a sigh;
Two of a kind, these twins, these curses horned,
Their duet making war a silent cry.
Could I but muster strength to smite this foe,
This dreaded maiden dressed in dreary shawl;
Alas, for fearful men who wish it so,
The melody has made a special pall.
Make trio of this fateful song and see
What treasures come from hospitality.
---
Some blank verse:
It is not of my nature here to know
What poison thoughts do to so pure a man,
Nor whether love can last through such deceit.
My duty is to sow the seeds of pain,
Just as Demeter, lost of her own heart,
Did work till order reigneth once again.
O why, cruel fortune, have I this to tell
My ignorance, whose life sustains all else
In my poor wretched self? O damn thee, mind,
For hadst thou been awake at that late hour
Then this black news would not have tarred mine ears
And torn apart what had been given hence
To that fair man. How could such vile thoughts
Have root in such a perfect silhouette?
The pain burns white, but anger has no fuel
From this most righteous sorrow of my heart;
Nor would a swift ammending blood red pool
From lamentations make me ever part.
If Hades is as cruel as tales do tell,
Then paradise awaits my crooked soul;
Subject me to the deepest pit of hell,
A cold embrace with numbness as my toll.
Thou angel who is closest to my self,
I know thou know'st the plight within mine eyes;
They are the same as those that plague thyself,
That say to take this loss despite the cries.
If pleasurable life did sire calamity,
Then feed me now the fruit of that dark tree.
---
"Conform!" yells Culture
His face red with rage
"I am the best, and you--
You're a shame!"
"Conform!" screams Society
Her fist skyward held
"You need to be normal!
You must be the same!"
"Conform!" cries Religion
Pointing t'ward your face
"I am the truth,
So don't fall for fakes!"
The children all stare
Confused and unsure
They plead to their parents
"Help us choose our nature!"
"It's all right sweetie."
They call to their spawn
And with one gentle push
What was gold is now gone
---
I like when you profess your love
And I am swooped up as a dove:
Into the sky, thrown in the air
The wind througout my messy hair.
My head is light with thoughts of you,
Of things we may or may not do.
Perchance we be as one forever,
I would collapse like feeble feather,
For you, my love, cause bashfulness
And wrap me in a cloak of bliss.
I shall profess my hope to you,
To share a life between us two.
