Sad Song, Siren Song
A sad song plays inside my head.
I cannot escape it
Without the drowning Siren song
Of a moment's joy.
And when the echoes of the Sirens fade away,
There the sad song plays again,
And I weep.
Good fortune comes only rarely
And the Sirens are flirtatious,
But their interest is as soft as the zephyr,
And fragile besides.
The sad song fades only slowly.
I cling to it in my sensory-deprived world,
Wishing I could hear some other voic
But too afraid to be alone to try
Too often deceived by the Siren song.
The sad song lacks hope,
But it is my home, my hearth.
No one comes near
As the song bites them,
Comforting me and stinging me all the same.
But there, below the sombre music
Chimes the bittersweet.
Perhaps the song is not so blue,
But only the cold strains of truth
Shrouding my glimpses of hope.
Is there enough of the harmony in my sad song,
Played side-by-side to the fleeting Siren song,
That one day I can learn to hear more
Than just the loudly weeping melody?
When I play that tune aloud for you
Will you stay longer than your Siren?
Tears Like Rain
Outside the rain is falling,
Beating on the pavement
Like a stampede of frightened rats,
And the shock waves from the lightning
Shakes the trees with the wind
And the drumbeats inside my ears.
At my feet, a kitten plays,
More absorbed with his own twitching tail
Than the periodic rumbling of the sky.
I sit here in my darkness,
Watching the innocence of the kitten
And listening to the anger of the storm,
Seeing myself in both of them.
But it isn't enough for you, is it?
My tears fall like the rain on these nights,
Thinking of you and wanting
What you will never let us be.
And so I keep clinging to come fragile dream,
Wanting to take whatever fortune tosses me
And knowing that anything save everything
Will only bring the tears like tonight.
Only you can stop my weeping
Because I can do nothing more
Than wait and weep and hope
In the silence of the rain.
Sun & Moon
I'm tired
Of the moon on my lips
And the sun in my hair
And nothing else to speak of,
But I have nothing to long for,
Only change.
There is nothing to replace them,
And I don't know what I want.
I wanted you once,
But that moment has passed,
Never to be recaptured
And even the friendship once solid
Now has less substance than the mists of spring.
Her name, too, might still linger
On lips cold from disuse,
But like you, she denies me.
I am still wanting
But I am also more confused.
Am I doomed to want forever
The unhavable?
And so I weep for what I have,
For what I wanted
And what can never be,
Wishing that the sun and the moon
Could be enough again.
Of the Thunderstorm
The rain falls with a muffled drumbeat
Of percussive white noise,
And though I have only just escaped it,
I find myself longing to return
Despite the chill the wind brings to my bones
And the goodbumps already on my skin.
My hair is wet and hangs in my face
Covering my eyes and letting me listen,
Letting the patternless noise
Help me drown the desperate sorrows
That had made my cheeks wet and eyes red
Even before this latest cloudburst.
I had stood like this alone many times before
Soaking up the thunderstorms
And making their strength a part of my heart,
Steeling myself against the likelihood
That I would always stand thus alone:
One body as fierce as the thunderclap;
One heart as bright as the lightning;
One soul as dark as the clouds;
One life as persistent as the rains.
But my only companion could be
These dark and gloomy cumulonimbus
That broght my body and heart, my sould and life
Back to me in aperiodic moments.
But always the thunderstorms are followed
By days of sunlight and nights of starlight
Filled with the other sounds I tried my best to ignore
Sounds of laughter and talking
From the earth and not the sky,
And I find I wonder more and more
Whether I am really of the thunderstorm
Or might only wish to be,
And what I might be instead.
The storms are always partnered with sunlight,
One that follows the other,
And then the first again.
What could I be partnered with then?
And all around is just the rain
And the wet hair plastered to my face.
What is it I'm not seeing?
I ask over and over again,
Will I find my answer in storm or sunlight?
Do I wait or do I return to the rains
That gave me my strength to come so far?
But I am already chilled and soaked to the bone,
So it is to my storm that I return,
To lose myself in the fog and downpouring rain.
I may find nothing,
But at least I am at home.
Untitled
My torment is tinged with time and shyness.
The sad sense I have of the fate of our lies
Quiets an essential quest for knowing you.
I would gild my gaze with your face,
But knowing none of your needs--
You want yarn and cries to be true--
I can only watch and whisper my cares in shadow.
Ah! Beneath me a blue veil cools hot skin
And rain runs in a juggernaut from dreams.
My blood leaves little affection for this guile.
When will I lapse fully into that old carapace?
The one that with sweet strokes made me think I was safe.
Raw and red roses wind about my black life.
Pure and purple language chain me to the heaven of you.
Would winters were more than screams from a pyre.
Friends and goddesses alike fall upon a sea of mean missives
To still demons and drunk prayers bewailed through conflict.
My head longs for home, but it is you I ask after.
Aloof from all I am as if gone ten moons ago,
The nights put the now in the herculean light of eternity.
It's crazy, but not only a forest of kisses can find me.
Despite the delicate days of wanting and parting,
I would worship god if he could give me you,
But I kow the knife in my breast may be truth
Or only the subterfuge you are pleased to play with.
Who can spring me from this honeyed hell of cunning?
I go on, but I give less than two thousand suns.
By then my asking will not be suffering but bold caterwaul.
Will it be a sweet or stormy mother you make?
Walking the Gender Line
I started down this road
In those forgotten days of childhood.
I've always wondered how I got this way,
How I began with the soul of a boy
Trapped in the body of a girl.
I began fighting for my soul early on,
Asking too many questions why,
I want to play baseball with the boys,
To wander the woods, to climb the tallest tree.
I want to soak up math and science.
Why don't boys like smart girls?
Why should I play with dolls?
And when challenged, what else but to fight back
With fists and bloody noses,
So I pointed the bullies' BB-gun back at them
And dared them to doubt my sincerety.
I soaked myself in math and astronomy
And did everything they said I couldn't.
Alone if they made me, too.
I could not be chained and I refused to obey,
And so my childhood went to the world,
Paying only token homage to my girlhood
With ballet lessons and crochet.
Often I wished for the body to match my soul.
I saw the difference it made to others.
So much less resistance to my intellect,
Fewer warnings about my fragile safety,
And the independence of "boys will be boys".
Then came the horror of puberty
And all I could do was protest louder.
My boyish soul found itself in the picture of fertility,
Large breasts and wide hips--and groping hands--
And not even the height I needed to disguise it.
My body screamed of womanhood
And all I could do was crave my lost boyhood.
I tried giving up the outward trimmings of femininity.
No more dresses. No more make-up. Cut off the hair.
A man's watch, but no more jewelry, and on...
But it made little difference,
And mother called a halt to my efforts.
Little has changed since that time.
The world has asked me to behave as they expect
But their demands are more subtle.
To my dismay, I have forgotten to object,
But my soul inside my head is still that lost boy
That aches to be one of the guys
And objects to the idea of a "relationship" with a masculine soul.
Only friendship, at arm's length, is tolerable.
I've walked this path a long while,
Straddling the line between masculine and feminine,
Fighting for balance and acceptance,
Unable to fully live in either world,
A lifelong mate to confusion and loneliness.
And what is it I want from this road?
What will satisfy my divided life?
You know I've sought you out
Because you've walked this road, too.
Your feet on both sides of the line, trapped like me.
We stand opposite each other, like mirrors
We know each other even before we've met.
You or someone like you will always be my shadow.
Only this can I share my confusion,
Knowing that you'll understand the special strain
Of straddling this line beneath our feet,
And the futility of the efforts to change us.
Walk with me a while if you like.
Maybe together our journey won't seem as lonely.
Maybe be won't feel so lost.
But at last, this line that brings us together
Stands between us as it doesn't for others.
I already miss you.
Because alone we will walk again
As we seek the rest of ourselves, instead of just reflections.
But it's a long road.
Stay here with me a while longer. |
