Waking

I hate to see you when I'm awake.
It always seems to happen
I hate to see you
when I'm awake. I would hate to wake

with you, to flee from
your waking as its rough bright sand
burns under my feet

and fly from you through that murky
constant sea of crimson fire
with its frozen moon & three suns
away from the volcano you chose,
away from my worst fear

I would like to take from you the golden
fire the terrifying black spark, the only
thing that allows you 

power anywhere in this 

waking world, anywhere

that I am awake. I would like to flee
from you up the broken stairs

for the first time & become
the bird that would slip through 

your fingers, a drop of water
impossible to hold
to where you have never 

seen, and where
even your breath cannot pass.

I would like to be the fire
that burns mockingly on the far side 

of the sun. I would like to be that untouchable

& that free.

_______

Done in response to prompt 30 of NaPoWriMo 2013. A reversal of the poem Variations on the Word Sleep by Margaret Atwood

Memories

There are crystals of sand
falling between my ears
myriad prisms that reflect and
refract my life over the years.
They fall into a cup
so saturated with experience
that the walls no longer hold up
and the crystals dance
up, over, through, away,
til I can no longer remember
the particulars of that day
in frosty December
alone with you
beside the glittering tree.
I can't remember what I said to you
or what you said to me.

Ich habe ein Gedächtnis wie ein Sieb.

Ode to Lemons

Oh, your bright citrus zest
and the biting taste of your juice
creates a stirring of chest
from which I can't seem to get loose.
You are necessary
like the air or salt or white wine.
for both cooking and health.
You're a symbol of misery
only for those who rashly dine
and overlook your golden wealth

Rebirth

As the salmon forges its way

up the winding stream of stars,

does it realize the toll it must pay

for its journey from afar?

It's life is at its sunset,

yet its fin slices the spray, 

towards fate's skeletal net

and the ending of its day.

The sun crosses the horizon,

and thousands of stars play

at the rebirth of the sun,

the beginning of a new day.

Truth

Yesterday, I woke up and found I was blind
Today, I woke up and found out it was a dream.
It's difficult to acknowledge the lies in my mind,
and that all is not as it seems.

Mice Hell

I wonder if mice can go to hell,
or if they're already there.
Living in their glass cells,
while the fascinated monsters stare.
They scream and tap and yell,
protesting that it isn't fair,
that Timmy's been in front since the bell,
and really he should have to share.
And even when they behave well,
and there is no pulling of hair,
the mice can still always tell
that the monsters are out there.

Inevitable

The sun rose a degree higher
and the waves crushed the sand castle.
The kids didn't notice, they're tired.
The sun rose a degree higher.

They see their masterpiece's expired

and build anew, a lost battle.

The sun rose a degree higher
and the waves crush the sand castle.