A potent truth

A potent truth

Sunday, November 15, 2009

So sorry... here have some Shakespeare!

Yes, so I've not posted in a long while. As I said on my other blog... I've been naughty! I promise to give this more effort from now on. I will not be posting anything original today simply because I haven't anything that I feel would be appropriate. I have started writing again, but they are a bit acerbic and I don't want my first post to have some acid spitting poem full of vicious vitrol. I would like to give you all something nice to read to begin with, not to mention the fact that I can write something much more pleasant, or at least less hateful. I really must stop watching the news. Honestly, it only pisses me off!
Anyway, today I will be sharing with you one of my very favorites of Shakespeare's sonnets. The first time I read it kind of felt bad for the lady it was about, but the more I read it I realized that Shakespeare wasn't, in fact, insulting the lady, but saying in a very satirical manner that his lady was perfectly lovely, but not in the way that everyone else sees lovely. In other words, she was an unusual sort of beauty that he appreciated and that all of the cliche little descriptions and comparisons couldn't be applied to! I love it! So enjoy!

Sonnet 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, why then black wires grow on her head;
I have seen roses damasked, red, and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight,
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks;
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.
-William Shakespeare

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

For your children.

What wouldn't we do for our children? I know that I would do a whole lot for my little one and I know many other parents who feel the same. I've been trying to figure out where to go with the first stanza of this poem for over a month. I knew where I wanted it to go, but I couldn't find the words. I mean this is about protecting your child as much as possible and at the same time letting them go when you must and hoping they will be all that they were meant to and learn to live up to all of their potential. I suppose there are other angles you could take on this, but I wrote it as a mother to her child. Feel free to take it how you see it though. It never says anything specific about mother or child. I do hope that you enjoy it though.

To Fly. To Soar.

You are stalked by sin.

Danger wants to win.

Looking over your shoulder

Lurking things there in secrets and lies.

Light illuminating the strands that tie

Soul to body, body to earth.


I’ll be the shield against the temptation.

Be the danger that danger fears.

Reveal the secrets and lie's secrets.

Cut the strings that tie you down.

Free you from stony ground.

Watch your flight begin.


Watch you fly out to the sky.

Show the world your soul.

Illuminate the shadows with your smile.

Vanquish your enemies with light.

Become all that you were meant to.

Grow into the gifts given you.

Don’t just learn to fly so high.

I hope someday you soar.

-Constance


Saturday, June 27, 2009

A little summer piece.

I was feeling the summertime niceness today, before I started sweating and Louis stopped playing, and I wrote a nice positive summer poem. I don't usually extol the virtues of summer because I generally don't care for it. It is hot and sticky and I'd rather it be spring or fall. Still I was appreciating it this morning and I appreciate the fabulousness that is night in the summer too. No blazing sun to cook your insides and fry your skin off. Anyway, this one is fairly simple and I am rather fond of it. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Sanguine Summer

Heavy, warm air
Shifting lazily through trees,
Propelled by a fragrant summer breeze.

Dreams flit by.
Daydreams spawned by time.
Silent pictures; mental mime.

Flowery blossoms wave.
Leafy branches bend and sway,
Dance in pleasure on a warm summer day.
-Constance

Friday, June 26, 2009

Soldier's things.

So most of you know that music is a huge thing for me. It is practically and extension of my soul. Last night while sitting here I had my itunes set on random so that I was getting a wildly varied selection of music while I did my thing and talked to Jacob for a little while. Now, it is inevitable that if I sit and actually listen to the music I will be inspired to write something myself. It just so happens that Tom Waits was my muse last night. lol! There's an image for you. He has a song called "Soldier's Things" that I love. I started looking around at my soldier's things and decided to write.
My poem doesn't really flow in the same vein as Tom Wait's song, but the general idea came from him and I got to thinking about how these things are a small outward projection of the man within. The things that make him who he is. The framed pictures, certificates, and awards hanging on the wall that he is so proud of. The dress uniform hanging on the closet door with all of the ribbons and the medals and stripes, all of this reflects a part of the whole that is Jacob. So here it is. Let me know what you think!
This is a video somebody made to go with the song that is actually pretty good if you want to hear the song.


Matter of the Man

Certificates and awards
Hanging on his walls.
Medals and ribbons
Pinned on his chest.
Rifles and ammo
In his safe.
Photos of men
His men; a brotherhood.
Honor and courage
In his soul.
Duty and responsibility
Dwellers of his heart.
A paragon and a citadel
This is who he is.
A man and a soldier
That is what he is.
These are his
A soldier's things.
-Constance

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Long time gone!

Sorry it has been so long since I posted. I have been sorely lacking in any artistic motivation and thus lacking in motivation to post anything here. I am back! I have a brand new playlist over there that is extremely long (101 songs) and it is on shuffle so hopefully you will hear something different every time you visit my blog. There is quite a collection of music over there, if I do say so myself. I am rather erratic in my musical selections so, you never know what you are gonna get! Ha! I'm like a box of chocolates! I tried not to put anything too loud or grating since a lot of people don't really appreciate my love for loud aggressive music. I hope you all appreciate that!
Now on to the poem of the day. I wrote this over a month ago and I have no recollection of what was going through my head at the time or what inspired this really. I knew I should have made a note somewhere on that page, but I didn't and its too late now. I liked it when I read back over it and since that is fairly odd for me I figured this would be the lucky candidate for today's post! I hope all of you enjoy it as well! Oh and no, it doesn't have a title. The evil title blocker in my brain strikes again!!!

Never think
Of all of the times
Love turned us sour.

Think instead
Of our completion.
Love's finest hour.

Walking through rain
Till sun shines again.
Our names an amen.

The elements claim.
Let heaven and hell reign.
Nothing touches here.
-Constance

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Freedom...

So, it has been a while. I have been writing still, I just haven't written anything that I felt was worth sharing. I am posting this particular poem because I felt I had finally written something worth posting. Sorry for taking so long to come up with something. I know you may have enjoyed some of the other stuff I have written, but I am rather critical of my own work so I don't put up a lot of my stuff.
I came up with the first lines of this poem after I caught a random line in a song that said "cold walk of freedom." I stopped reading my book and immediately wondered what in the world a cold walk of freedom would be. Of course, this set off a spark that had to go somewhere and this is it. I am not sure that everyone will understand what I am saying, but I am fairly confident that it is something most people can relate to. The allure of freedom from the ties of home and family, of lack of responsibility and commitment, but I am certain it would be a lonely sort of freedom and hardly worth it. I have had a small taste of this at one point and I didn't like it then and am sure I wouldn't like it now. Like I said I am not sure if everyone will relate to this, but I think maybe they can at least in a vague way.

Deceptive Freedom

A walk of freedom

So many want it.

A cold walk I say.

Alone against the day.

Cold freedom you see.

A lonely walk .

Leaves you empty.

What is the point of it?

Pursuit of triviality.

I like my world.

My life of captivity.

My love a freeing thing.

It has wings you cannot see.

So many roam.

Far, far from home.

Loneliness comes stealing in

The freedom acquired

Not what it seemed

When at the start did begin.

-Constance


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Change

This one may be a little confusing for some of you since it is a little less straightforward than usual. All I can do to explain is tell you that I was thinking about change when I wrote it. You know that whole "the only thing in life that doesn't change is that there is always change" thing. I don't remember who said that and I don't feel like researching it so don't get on my case. So I suppose what I am trying to convey is the inevitability and shear force that change is in our lives. Something is always changing, especially in today's world and every one is trying to make a change in it themselves whether good or bad. It's interesting when you run into those individuals who don't like change. They are so unfortunate! Can you imagine hating things changing and there being no way to stop it. I personally like change as long as it is positive. It is the degradation of morality, government, and society that bother me, but all I can do is attempt to affect a change in that for myself. See, it is all about change and how you cope and what you yourself change. I hope that is somewhat helpful in understanding what I am trying convey in this poem. I hope you enjoy!

Force of Change

Sound seeping into my veins.
Emitting social distortion.
Political outrage.

This feeling starts buzzing in my brain.
Driving in the fast lane.
Affecting a change.

Changes I can't see yet from my filmy eyes.
Peering through the fog.
Above this I rise.

Deep breath friends.
Here it comes again.
Brace yourself; hold still.
Let the change work its will.
-Constance

Friday, May 15, 2009

Another one.

Here is another one of the poems I have written recently. I am not sure what to make of it myself, but I hope that you at least enjoy it. I really have no idea how to explain this one to you. I am also suffering an unusual case of writer's block. Not with my poetry, but here. I don't know what the deal is. So please excuse my lack of introduction and insight to my own work. I do hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think of it though.

Feeling

Separate my head from my neck.
Cut my heart from my chest.
Let me feel things I haven't felt yet.
Carry these injuries for me.
There are monsters all around me.

Remove my shame from my soul.
Take the break from my heart.
Numb these things I've felt before.
Carry these injuries for me.
There are monsters all around me.

Heal me, kill me.
Stay and then go.
Show me all there is to know.

Carry these injuries for me.
There are monsters all around me.
-Constance

Again, sorry for the lack of explanation. I simply haven't a clue what to say about it. I hate being at a loss like this. I know exactly what I am saying in the poem, but for some reason I lack the words to tell you about it. UGH!!!

Monday, May 11, 2009

Soooooo.....

So I haven't posted in a while, but I am getting back on track again. Even though I haven't been posting I have still been writing like a mad woman and I have several new poems to share with all of you! I even have happy springtime poems for you! Aren't you all proud?! I came up with this while watching Caleb blow bubbles. Actually I have been doing some of my best work while I sit on the porch and watch Caleb enjoy the day and blowing bubbles. He loves to blow bubbles. It is so cute! No wonder I write so much during that. It is so peaceful and I can't help but be happy and content. There is nothing more touching than watching him really enjoy himself. So for your reading pleasure... a happy spring poem! Enjoy!

Song in Spring

Bubbles float lightly
Waltzing through the air.
Across gentle green landscape.
Making their escape.

Twilight creeping in
Heralds the end of day.
Beautiful light,
Glorious rays.

Daytime songs fade.
All of suntime's creatures
Throats closing songs.
Night performers coming on.

Creatures of the moon and stars
Warming up to start.
Preparing to give concert.
A nighttime serenade.

Nature's music, a symphony
Joined in harmony.
Special composition
Mixed sounds, night and day.

Notes collected especially
For breaking of dawn and
Closing of day.
The magic of time.

The beauteous hues
Fading, muting
Light fading away.
Hypnotic some may say.
-Constance

Thursday, April 30, 2009

The new blog

I have started the new blog. I have stayed up much later than I should getting it set up and writing my rather lengthy first post. So go and check it out and for those of you who said you would read and follow... get to it! lol! http://denimanddogtags.blogspot.com/
I wrote a brief poem today. I'll also post it while I am here. Since it is officially May 1st I will also try to post an appropriate poem for the day. The day being mine and Jacob's wedding anniversary. I am making no guarantees, but it is a tentative goal. I hope you enjoy both the new blog and the new poem.

Broken and Whole

Broken here I am.
Yet, whole I will be again.
Roam from my side,
Pieces of you still inside.
My moonless night.
It too will end.

Dawn breaking over me,
Sun cresting o'er the trees.
Light spills all around.
Within these thoughts found.
Nothing to do but wait.
Sound, again be safe.

Years we have had.
More will come.
-Constance

Monday, April 27, 2009

Ugly Side

I am not sure if any of you are familiar with a band called Blue October, but they have a great song called "Ugly Side" and it got me thinking. How many of us hide the parts of ourselves that we deem less than pleasant? How often do we put forward all of our preferable qualities and hope no one ever sees the less acceptable personality traits we have. I know that I do and it is a battle to be the person I think I should be. The person I want to be. Most people do want to be better than they are and work in varying degrees to acheive this goal. We, being only human, cannot completely overcome these things though. We would be a little more than human then wouldn't we? So we all have these secret peices of ourselves and we hide them and try to conquer them. I personally don't see anything wrong with this, but I know there are those who think that this is wrong. I can see where they are coming from I guess. It seems like you are lying about who you are if you don't see it the way I do. That is a little less than flattering. Still, I cannot agree. There is nothing deceitful about trying to be a better person and overcoming things that you feel make you less than what you want to be. That is self-improvement if you ask me. It isn't as if repressing parts of you that you don't like is going to hurt anything as long as you deal with having them and accept that they are there. I am in no way encouraging living in denial of things you don't like about yourself. No, accept them and then try to fix it! See, that isn't dishonest. At least, I don't fee like it is. I will leave you to decide how you feel about that for yourself. I got a little carried away there! lol! I hope you enjoy the poem!








This is a video of Blue October performing "Ugly Side." And in case you are wondering, I have no idea what is up with the violinist and the horns on his head.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I348b5FUDFQ









The Secret Me


I hope you cannot see
All that is within me.
You know me so well.

I hope you cannot see
My internal hell.

I am so full of things

I want no one to see.
You know me all too well.

How could you not know?
How can you not see me?


I hope you and the world
See only my kindness,
My love, my compassion,

My passion, my artistry.
I wonder what you see?


I hope it is not evident
That my psyche is black; malevolent.

With selfishness, greed.
With hate and dark violence.
Human weakness.


I hope it is not obvious.
My internal perfidy.

My cowardice and fear.
So contradictory to what you see.

I am not really so strong.

I hope to be this woman.

The one I try so hard to be.
How do I continue?
How do I overcome?

The weakness inside of me?

I hope all shall fall

And I will be these things.
Overcoming my failings.

Conquer my malignant mind.
To epitomize my mental goals.


I hope none shall find me
To be the iniquitous creature I am.

The person I see inside.
The one I conceal so well.
I hope I am to you

The person I want to be.
But you know me all too well.


Please see the better parts of me.

Don’t look too far inside.



But I love you!

I’ve let you know me!



-Constance













The Secret Me

I hope you cannot see
All that is within me.
You know me so well.
I hope you cannot see
My internal hell.

I am so full of things
I want no one to see.
You know me all too well.
How could you not know?
How can you not see me?

I hope you and the world
See only my kindness,
My love, my compassion,
My passion, my artistry.
I wonder what you see?

I hope it is not evident
That my psyche is black; malevolent.
With selfishness, greed.
With hate and dark violence.
Human weakness.

I hope it is not obvious.
My internal perfidy.
My cowardice and fear.
So contradictory to what you see.
I am not really so strong.

I hope to be this woman.
The one I try so hard to be.
How do I continue?
How do I overcome?
The weakness inside of me?

I hope all shall fall
And I will be these things.
Overcoming my failings.
Conquer my malignant mind.
To epitomize my mental goals.

I hope none shall find me
To be the iniquitous creature I am.
The person I see inside.
The one I conceal so well.
I hope I am to you
The person I want to be.
But you know me all too well.

Please see the better parts of me.
Don’t look too far inside.
But I love you!
I’ve let you know me!


-Constance

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Strong.

Firstly, to address the issue of an additional blog involving Jacob and this deployment... I have made a poll! Go take it! Your votes will determine whether or not there will be a new blog. I truly want to know if you will read so let me know. If there isn't any interest in it, then there is really no point.
Now on to the poem for today. This one is another product of my brilliant word document. I've had the first two lines in there for a couple of days. I had debated on what direction to go with it for a few days and then decided to just start writing and see where it went. This is where it went and I am really rather pleased. It is a miracle it didn't come out with a more political or social statement attached to it. I was listening to Rage Against the Machine while I wrote this. See? I can't believe it doesn't sound even a little angry. My poetry is usually heavily influenced by what I listen to and what I listen to can be rather varied. I like this poem more than most of my recent ones. Despite the musical influence it came out rather determined and that is exactly how I've felt today. It takes a certain amount of determination to get through a deployment and I have to find mine fairly quickly or I'm afraid I'll be swallowed whole by the loneliness and sadness of it all. This is my determination to cope and move forward laid out for you. Sure there is a sad undertone to it, but what do you expect? The sad will come and go and you will get happy from me from time to time despite all that is going on. Just give me some time! Hope you like it!

Just as Strong

If two are twice as strong,
If a couple are twice as tall,
Then what am I all alone?
Half as strong? Half as tall?

No, I am just as strong.
I am still just as tall.
I am only physically alone.
We are still two. A couple; alone.

Yes, I am lonely.
I sleep without my lover.
I sleep beside my phone.
The warmth of my bed gone.

I will be perfectly fine.
Just wanted you to know.
So what if I cried today or yesterday?
I will be perfectly okay.

I am just as strong as I ever was.
He is worth every sacrifice made.
We are worth every second away.
He’ll come back someday.

No time, no distance can stop our love.
The bombs, the bullets, the enemy may try.
My prayers my lover will hide.
God, my husband shelters to His side.

-Constance

Monday, April 20, 2009

Webcams,potential new blogs, and poetic wackiness.

So I spent today trying to get all of my online communication tools functioning. I now have a webcam set up, yet another instant messenger going, and skype all in the name of staying in touch with my hubby while he is so far away. His internet connection sucked today though so the whole webcam thing didn't work too well, but I could hear his voice and talk to him even if I could only occasionally see him, so that is beyond worth it. Hopefully things will get better. I think I am going to start a separate blog for this sort of thing. There is going to be a lot to tell over the next 12 months or so.
I am also thinking of starting a blog to dedicate solely to other poets that I like. I had been thinking about doing this, but when April made the suggestion I figured it must be a sign and I should get on that. So I have a few things in the works right now and I've got to get them organized. I probably won't start the poetry one until the first of May just because that seems a logical place to start. As for the other Jacob/deployment related one... I don't know. I won't make a definite statement right now.
On to the wackiness that is my poem for today. I don't really know what to say about it. I know in my head what I am trying to convey, but I have no idea how to communicate that to you. It is a little confusing. Even the poem itself is a little confusing. Let me know if you like it though. Even if you don't really get it I would love to know if you at least enjoyed reading it.

Cool Fire; Alive

Glass of wine before me,
Light before my eyes,
Sounds of songs make me high.

The world keeps spinnin' 'round,
My feet still on the ground.
My soul reaches out for you.

It will reach you, though far away.
I will merge mine with yours,
Soothe the emptiness inside.

I will scorch you with my love,
Its intensity more than can be contained.
Its burn hotter than any flame.

My love will soothe the burn,
Bring serenity back to your insides.
It makes us feel so alive.

The burning, the cooling, comfort to find.
I live with that same cooling heat.
It guts my insides, killing, keeping me alive.

There is room for none but this.
Without it I might not exist.
I am keeping us both alive,
You too burn my insides.
-Constance

Saturday, April 18, 2009

I am his wife.

I am not sure what to say tonight. I am finally home after spending the past few days in Mississippi. I enjoyed my last few days with my husband and am so thankful to have had that time. Leaving him this morning though was incredibly difficult. I thought that I knew what to expect. It isn't as if this is the first time I have sent my love to war knowing I might never see him again. That, of course, isn't something that I dwell on, but it is always there in the back of my mind being studiously ignored. I was wrong. I had no idea that telling him goodbye this time would be infinitely harder than the last time I did it four years ago. Sure I know somewhat what I can expect, but that is all. I am on my own this time. I have a son to raise and a household to maintain. Of course, over the past few years we have learned to love one another more deeply than we did when we were first married. I think more than we realized until now. You hear people talking about feeling like a part of them is missing? I get that. Half of me is God-knows-where right now and it is a devastating and disconcerting sensation. I miss him already and I just said goodbye. I am doing better now, but as I drove up my driveway and put the car in park it hit me. All I could think is "This is it. I am on my own now. No calling him to ask where something is or texting him to say I love him. I can't even hear his voice whenever I want!" I fell apart right there in the car with my two year old clamouring to get out of his car seat that he was thoroughly sick of. I am doing better now after talking to my mother, my sister, and my sister-in-law. I don't know how long I was on the phone all told, but by the time Jacob called to check on me and say goodbye one more time I was able to smile and laugh with him. Mind you I am not just worried about him, just more worried about him, he is my hubby after all. I am also worried about all of the awesome guys I have gotten to know over the past few years. They are wonderful men and I hope that each one of them come home safely. It would be my wish that every single man and woman that leaves comes back safely, but that would be every one's wish and is really just unrealistic.
The poem I have written for this occasion once again falls short. There is no way to truly convey the pride I have in being Jacob's wife. He is my hero and I am so thankful to be a part of his life. I haven't words for how proud I am of who he is and that he chose me to be his wife and the mother of his son. Sure I chose back, but that compliment goes both ways. I love this man so much. Please keep all of these soldiers in your prayers. They will need them all!



I Am His Wife

I am his wife.
The man walking by,
Combat boots and
Patches on his shoulders.

I am his wife.
The man with courage.
The kind of courage
We cannot conceive of.

I am his wife.
The man you don’t see.
He isn't here with me,
He is far from here.

I am his wife.
The man who completes me.
I am the part he left here,
While he is gone.

I am his wife.
The man with so much responsibility.
I keep the home,
So he doesn’t worry for me.

I am his wife.
The man, a soldier.
I am his wife.
There is nothing I’d rather be.

-Constance

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

One more before I go.

I am going to Mississippi tomorrow with my sweet husband to spend just a little more time with him before he goes to Afghanistan so I will most likely not be posting again until this weekend. I know I haven't been as faithful about posting lately and I will try to get back on track when I get back home. To placate my conscience I am posting one more brand new poem before I go. I am actually very pleased with how this one turned out. I know, it's a miracle!! I really haven't much criticism for this one and that is truly rare for me. I like it.
It is pretty straight forward and requires no real interpretation or special poetic understanding. It is just what is in my heart for the man I am about to say goodbye to for a year. I am happy with this piece even though no words could really describe what I feel for him. He is my love, my friend, my hero, my soul mate. There is no way to do that justice. I hope you all like this as much as I do.


The Wonders of You

Fly me to the end of the universe.
Show me the dark of the sky.
Give me glimpse of sparkling starlight.
Leave me in awe of the wonders there.
Still I will find you the most glorious.

Your eyes so blue the summer sky should cry.
Your skin so smooth and pale,
Like the effervescent moonlight.
I cannot help my wonderment,
That you are here and mine.

I bask in the light of your love.
I bathe in the warmth of your smile.
The obstacles I would overcome for you
Have no description, the distance no miles.
You are the wonder of my universe,
The sight that propels my world.
For you there are not enough words,
To tell, my heart with love whirls!

-Constance

Friday, April 10, 2009

Flesh... are you intrigued?

This is yet another result of my random lines word document and a little musical inspiration as well. It is so late and I can't sleep so this is what happened! I am all giddy and I am having trouble putting together complete coherent sentences. If this sort of rambles on or doesn't make sense then you can attribute that to sleep deprivation and my over abundant excitement! Jacob will be home soon!!! No longer counting days or weeks, but hours! That sounds so nice! Okay, I will quit rambling and just post the poem so you can read it! I don't really have much to say about it. It's pretty self-explanatory. Enjoy!!!


In Flesh

You, your hands,
Long and lean
Fingers reaching for mine
Caress my face.
Slide through my hair.
I dream of your hands.
I wake up they’re not there.

Only empty bed.
Cold sheets there.
A vacant pillow.
Spaces of air.
No fingers in my hair.
Graceful fingers,
Loving caressing hands.

You, I want you.
Long and lean
Body next to mine
Keeping the cold away.
You, holding nightmares at bay.
Love in flesh
Life in skin and bone.

-Constance

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Describe the indescribable.

I know it is incredibly cliche to attempt to describe love in any form, especially poetry, but I can't seem to help myself. It is the thing that drives humanity. Love falls right up there with those ever present human motivators like power and greed. It is irresistible and it also human to want to give it a definition, to find a way to put it into a rational slot. There is no way to do this though. Many have tried and all have failed. We may experience love, but we can never truly understand it or make anyone else understand it. We feel it, crave it, and some find it, but we cannot put it into words. There are those who have come close, but there is always something just beyond words. This is my expression of how unfathomable love is. How driving and all-encompassing it can be, how powerful, and how little we understand it despite our desperate attempts to posses and receive it.


Fathomless Love

Love so deep
No one can fathom
The depth, the passion.
The kind of love,
That starts and ends wars.
That kingdoms are built upon.
That kingdoms are razed for.
The love heroes die for.
The love that ordinary people live for.
That drives men to do the impossible.
That drives men to dream of holding stars.
That sonnets are written of.
That songs extol.
That makes a person drunk with joy.
That makes a person weep with sorrow.
That dominates us.
That makes us.
That breaks us.

-Constance

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Brand new, on the fly.

I wrote this just a few minutes ago! I am so proud! This started out as two lines saved in a word document I started thanks to my lovely sister-in-law. I have several poems now that have come from this word document that has random lines that pop into my head. I have found this to be a very effective thing for me! (Again... thanks April!)
This started out as just the first two lines and progressed from there. I like how this has turned out and once again I have managed to give it a title. I really just sat down to check my blog and then I was going to get ready to go to town. I have a lot to do today! This came to me that quickly! I really don't have much to say about the content of the poem, it is pretty self-explanatory and I will leave you to decide what it says to you. I hope you enjoy it!

Slavery

We are without control.
We are slaves.
Slaves to time,
To obligation and duty,
To conscience and morality,
To government and policy.

We search within and without.
We rattle our chains,
Looking to break free,
To define our own standards,
To draw our own lines,
To push our own ideals.

We struggle daily for control.
We rail against one another.
Searching for an outlet,
To make ourselves heard,
To prove we are right,
To gain the ears of power.

We are slaves...
To ourselves.
-Constance

Friday, April 3, 2009

Selfish Want

I wrote this today actually and I am so proud of myself. Not the subject of the poem, but myself. The poem itself is going to make me look badly I'm afraid, but then I wouldn't be a very honest person if I were unwilling to show my flaws. This is a rather profound piece on my part really. It says a lot about myself and my own conception of morality, of right and wrong. I enjoy my random moments of self-discovery and introspection. I like epiphanies and it is nice to have one now and again even if they are about myself and not some other problem with society or something more important. I hope all of you enjoy my poem even if it doesn't make complete sense to you.

Selfish Want

I want it all.
I want to eat the whole world.
I want to swallow the oceans,
I want to grind limestone between my teeth.
I want to suck it dry,
I want to take all that is on offer.
I want to consume its abundance,
Until there is nothing left.

I want it all.
I want wealth,
I want power,
I want money,
I want fame.
I want everything I shouldn't
I want it all for all of the wrong reasons.
I want to be the morally blind human.
I want to do what I want;
no consequences.

I want it all.
I want it, but dare not pursue it.
I want to deny my better nature.
I want to abandon morality.
I want to be a social shrew.
I want to abandon all that I am.
I want to do things the easy way.
I want to, but I can’t, I am who I am.
I want to, but I am me
What I want is not who I am.

I want it all.

So sorry!

So sorry that I haven't posted in so long. I have got to get on the ball here! There is really no excuse for not posting every day. I have two books full of this stuff and I have been slacking. While my sister was here last night she was looking through them and found one she liked. I myself am not all that fond of it, but then again, I asked what she liked didn't I?
I wrote this one about six years ago so it is definately different from the poetry that I write now. I like to think that I have gotten better since then and that my style is a little better. I will leave that to all of you and just post it now. I will try to get back on track and post more often, although that may be difficult with the very busy weekend I have ahead of me.

Burning eyes, bleary walls,
Exhausted body, contorted halls.

My mind sings for sleep,
My heart won't miss a beat.

I need to see your face again,
So that I can recieve a healing hand.

All last night I slept not a wink,
I simply lay there and think.

I saw your pleasant masculine face,
gazing at me from a wild blue place.

A breezy, sauntering kentucky sky,
Meeting grass of amber and white.

Wild country with passions unleashed,
Sing-song longing all whistling and pieced.

A dream of you with perfect element,
I stood as a woman with feet in cement.

My heart cried for you so far away,
But I know you will be back today.

The passionate blue, amber, and white,
Will warm me in your eyes light.

I will be revived again from half-sleep,
and nights sleep my soul will keep.
-Constance

Really not my best, but please remeber this was a whopping six years ago. (yes, there is a date on this one.)

Thursday, March 26, 2009

A rainy day!

A rainy day has inspired me to write today. It was so dreary most of the day and then on my way home I watched the sun set and it was gorgeous! Funny that at the close of a grey and soggy day I should witness something so beautiful and full of color and light. So I came home and wrote. It isn't exactly what I was going for, once again, but I am posting it anyway. I am just no good with putting that kind of beauty into words. I am night person and I have better words for describing that than the sun and colors and blazing sunsets. I hate it, but its the truth. I always wanted to describe a sunny day eloquently and someday I intend to do so. Until then you will all have to make do with my paltry attempts. Enjoy!

Water into Fire

Songs sound out monotone.
Colors all out in monochrome.
The heavy clouds move across the sky
The rain falls before my eyes.
What a weary day.

The sun shines about the clouds.
The birds dare to sing aloud.
Color floods a drab world.
Light catches water as it whirls,
Into the ground.

A blazing sun meeting ground,
Glorious light again abounds.
Setting the dusky sky ablaze,
The last of the day to raze.
Daylight dies away.

-Constance

Monday, March 23, 2009

A lament.

Right here at the beginning I want to say that none of you, my readers, should go feeling sorry for me. I wrote this late last night or early this morning, depends on how you look at it, and I was just having a "poor me" pity party and I all better now. I have those from time to time and then I am good for a while. It is just how I cope with all of this. I have found that these maudlin moods of mine do result in some artistic inspiration if I am at a place where I can indulge in it. Using these moods to do something productive, I find, is also rather cathartic and I feel much better. So, I am feeling much better today and I got a decent poem out of my moodiness. I even have a title! Now you all must be really proud of me! Anyway, just enjoy my latest poem and forgive me for going so long without posting. Up until recently I have been desperately lacking in inspiration and I couldn't even bring myself to post my older poetry.

Lament of the Lonely

I look out through the forrest.
I imagine running to the sea.
Seemingly endless expanses
of the world before me.
I am so small here.

How am I meant to stand
To face things alone,
To survive with you gone,
So far from home?
I feel so alone here.

Despite the support, the love,
The family, the friends,
Cold creeps deeply into my soul.
I pray for relief, for warmth.
I grow cold here.

Tears hide reserved, deeply they hide.
I have a well within myself
Sealed so tightly, none shall see,
The deep yawning chasm in me.
I am so empty here.

My love screams for you.
My skin feels dry and brittle.
My sorrow will pass from me.
To visit another day.
I am not trapped here.
-Constance

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Some more of my weirdness for you!

So I wrote this last night and once again I'm not sure where it came from. I wonder if this is what a fiction writer goes through. I was just listening to some music and had this pop into my head. It's a little dark and I'm not positive what exactly is going on. There is a very definate sense of some one reaping what they've sown though. That much I have picked up. Some one has done something evil and selfish and is paying the price. Whoever the speaker is has absolutely no pity for them, no forgiveness, and is a little bit gleeful about their fall. In any case I am posting it so I can share with you my poetic wackiness. Let me know what you think is going on. I would love some feedback and perspective on this.



Pagan; A Traitor

A sacrine sweet sound
Piercing the hazy fog,
Penetrating the smoke
Smoke surrounding my soul.

Sacrificed on a funeral pyre
Over pages so pagan.
Words spoken crumble
Ashes in a faithless mouth.

Ruthless control rendered in hands,
Hands so frigid and skeletal.
Embers glow in the black.
Ash rising to join the wind.

Bare bones charred
Exposed to the universe.
Time watches the torment,
Torture of an innocent soul.

Does your mind war within,
A battleground your inner self
Blood dripping from your soul?
No sympathy have I for your pain.

It is yours rightfully earned.
Bask in the blackness,
The suffocating evil of self.
A complete succumbing.

The wickedness overtakes you.
I name you faithless traitor,
Pagan demonstrator to humanity.
Drown in the waters your ways have wrought.
-Constance

Monday, March 9, 2009

Dawn

I watched the sun come up this morning, which is a pretty big deal really, since it requires you to be awake for it and Caleb was still sleeping. Still, I was awake so I watched the sun come up. I don't usually wax sentimental about dawn, I am an sunset kind of girl or even better a moonlight lover. The sunrise was just so beautiful this morning though. So, while sitting on the front porch and sipping a cup of tea I wrote this. I am not completely happy with it because I didn't quite acheive the effect I was going for and I couldn't get my brain to come up with words befitting the glory of it all. I am reasonable happy with it anyway and I hope you all enjoy it! May you have a wonderful and very blessed day!

Incredible Dawn

The sun peeks over the horizon
Chasing away the grey predawn hues.
Dawn's brilliant pinks and purples,
Slicing through to start the day.

Radiant light warms my face
And fills the cockles of my heart
With its warmth and light
Chasing away the dark of night.

Beauty and magnificence all around,
Leaves me in awe of God's artistry.
-Constance

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

One word. That's all it took.

I wrote this today. I am ever so proud of myself. The inspiration for this is kind of odd for me. One word spawned and entire poem. I was listening to music, as per usual, and I heard one word, "fire," and that was it. The word fire brought to mind dragons and from there the ball just rolled along. Dragons destroy and consume, so it seemed logical to use one as a metaphore for life. We fight everyday, whether we realize it or not, to stay afloat and every second of happiness. Maybe we don't always feel the strain of it, but even a smile or laugh is a choice. You choose to enjoy life. If you didn't you would be content to let life consume you and eat up your soul. There would be no happiness, no smiles, no joy, nothing. Misery would be all that you had to hold close to your heart. So, yeah, I think it is an ongoing battle to be happy in this world. Every choice is a strategic move, even the simple ones, because they affect you in some way and every way you are affected has an impact. We slay dragons every day, only to turn around and do it again and again. Some day we won't have to, but until we leave this world we do. I think I expressed a lot in this particular poem. I hope you all enjoy it.

Dragons

Life consumes us.
Its fires they rage.
A dragon always there,
Night and day.

Rigid control
Keeps us going on.
Waiting for an opening
A chink in the armor.

Waiting for the dragon
Its weakness to show.
To pierce its belly

To obliterate the threat.

We wait for peace.
The peace of mind.
To rest a while.
It never really comes.

-Constance

The judgement seat.

For the past few days I have been contemplating the nature of man and his tendancy to judge those around him. This, of course, is no new thing, but it never ceases to amaze me. Not only that, but we judge and then find every one wanting in some way. People are just that, people. We are full of flaws, which really should make a person stop the judgement and take a look at themselves. We rarely do though. I am not trying to point fingers because I too am guilty of looking at others and thinking myself in some way superior. You would be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't put themselves in the judgement seat. So I found this poem that I wrote several years ago, well almost five years ago actually. (There is a date on it!) I read it and thought it oddly appropriate for my state of mind. Funny that I ran across it just a couple of days ago in a book in my bookcase. That is the way God works though. He brings things to your attention and then continues to reinforce that until he is finished dealing with you on that subject. I hope it speaks to you as it has spoken to me. Then again it is mine so one would think it should always speak to me!

The Forgiven

Here we are
Casting stones
When we should be
Collecting souls.
Are we the sinless lambs?
We are the forgiven
Clensed by The Spotless Lamb.

Foolish children
We live to love
And glorify Him aove.
With His love
Who are we to accuse
When we ourselves are prostitutes.
Or if not then scribes and Pharisees.
Counterproductive to Jesus' will.
He sees us and loves us still.
We are the forgiven
Clensed by The Spotless Lamb.
-Constance

Saturday, February 28, 2009

To April!

After reading April's blog I went on a Bowie kick starting with "The Man Who Sold the World" and from the I went all over the place with my Bowie and people covering Bowie. While some of it made my ears bleed and offended my musician's heart others were fabulous. I know April was sure I would flame her for posting Nirvana's cover of Bowie's "The Man Who Sold the World" but like I told her I actually like it! As a matter of fact I have been known to listen to Nirvana's version just as often as Bowie's. That is not to say I like their version better because I am a die hard Bowie fan and that would be an impossiblity for me. So since I have no idea what poem to post I am posting the lyrics to go with April's video. Song lyrics are after all poetry sent into motion by music. Well, some of it is anyway. Some lyrics are just crap. Case in point... Brittany Spears songs. Okay off of that subject before I go all soap boxy on you. Here are the lyrics which I love. It's a brilliant song from a brilliant, if not extremely strange man.

The Man Who Sold the World

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago

Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World

I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died along, a long long time ago

Who knows? not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the Man who Sold the World

See isn't that great! I know a lot of people who've never actually heard Bowie do this. If you haven't go on youtube and check it out!

Friday, February 27, 2009

Sacrifice

I often find myself wondering how Jesus could sacrifice himself for us. I know He loves us and all of that, but can you imagine? Imagine leaving behind a divine home to come to earth as a human baby! I once heard some one say that it would be something like us becoming a slug so that we could save them. Not that we are slugs exactly, but we are just that far away from Christ's divinity and all that He had. Still He did it and isn't that amazing? I hope that I never cease to be amazed at that sacrifice. His resurrection too is quite an awe inspiring thing as well, but the initial sacrifice is what leaves me feeling so humbled. What must it have been like to know you were going to die and why and be willing to do it just because you loved that much? Still, He loves us and how much more humbling is that?
Since I have been in this frame of mind this morning I though I should give you a poem I wrote several years ago that is actually extremely appropriate. I remember writing this very clearly. My dad was actually preaching and this came to me. Most of my good stuff comes to me in church. (I know you are probably thinking I shouldn't be writing in church!) It usually starts with something the preacher says and then wham! I have a line in my head. Of course, I have to write it down and it just kind of goes from there. It only takes a few minutes usually and I can get right back to the sermon. So here is what I wrote a whole 4 years ago.

His Grace

Rain sounds in His place
And I wonder on His face.
What a mighty God is He
That commands the sky and sea.

His hands can calm
Or raise a storm
And yet the cross
He has worn.

And as the torrent comes down
I think of His thorny crown.
How a saviour with such grace
Can bear to look upon my face?
-Constance

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

A Return

Wow! Two posts in one day! You should all be so proud of me. Earlier today I posted a poem written by Robert Burns because I had nothing of my own that fit the occasion. I did, however, promise that should I write something that did fit I would post it. Well, I've done it! It isn't exactly what I was going for, but I am still fairly pleased with it. Of course, most artist, even amatures like myself, are rarely truely pleased with their work. I think that is mostly because what you have in mind and what comes out rarely match. Still, I managed to write something so I am very pleased about that. I even managed to give it a title, which is also the title of this blog entry! I hope you all like it!

A Return

My heart leaps,
Joy is so immense.
The swell inside myself
Is far beyond intense.

To have you returned,
My love, my heart, my life,
The past weeks with loneliness,
Have been truely rife.

I know that time
Is but a fleeting thing
A small reprieve for us.
It with joy shall ring.

And when time is gone,
When I am left again
Alover lost, alone,
In my soul it will rain.

Tears of sadness will fill it.
Hope will live inside
Waiting for you return.
Hope in myself shall hide.
-Constance

I think that is fairly appropriate and conveys fairly well things I feel. I like that about poetry. You can let the world know how you feel in a nice flowery way and it's okay because poetry is meant to be at least a little flowery. That is it for today I think. At least, I don't plan on posting again until tomorrow.

Jacob is home so read a Scottish poem!

I don't have a poem that is appropriate for the occasion. I have looked and come up empty handed. Nothing I have written speaks to me in the appropriate way. Maybe I will write something later and post it. I am feeling rather inspired today, probably due to having my sweetheart back, even if for just a short while. So since I couldn't find anything of my own to share I went in search of something relatively appropriate to share that some one else had written. After searching I came up with a poem by the Scottish poet Robert Burns. It's always fun to read his work because you have to get through all of the oddly spelled words. Being Scottish he spells some of his words differently than we as Americans would. If you ever get the chance you should read more of his works. He wrote some remarkable poems. I love to read his work! While this isn't really the perfect poem and maybe I should have stuck with one about love returning I just really felt like this is the one for today.

O, My Luve is Like a Red Red Rose

O, my luve is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my luve is like a melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi the sun!
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho it were ten thousand mile!
-Robert Burns

Monday, February 23, 2009

Random Selection

I had no rhyme or reason for picking this particular poem today. I just went trough and decided that I like this one. It deals with truth and human nature and a little bit with sin. There are actually several things a person could read into this poem. Sin, Satan, truth, human nature, fear, denial or emotional avoidance. It just depends on the reader. I hope you like it. This one, like many of my poems, doesn't have a title. I have a hard time with those. I don't know why, but I can write a poem, no problem, but ask me to give it a title and my brain goes on vacation to la-la land.


Blazing tounges
Engulf humanity.
Passion red berries
Steal our sanity.

Cold snow
Freezes lost souls.
He pretends knowledge
To those who don't know.

And away in corner
Truth hides,
In a human shaped
Desolate bottle.

Alone, scared
Because he is
Not welcome.
Not what you wish to hear.

He may remind you,
Of your own scars.
That...
You most fear.
-Constance

Saturday, February 21, 2009

My weirdness... or craziness maybe?

This is another poem of mine that like the last one is just strange. Unlike the last one this one I can't make any sense of and I wrote it! The writing of this poem was a little odd too. Usually I write because I have something to say about something or to give myself an emotional outlet. This was not the case at all with the writing of this one. I was actually in a poem writing mood and had written several poems over the course of a few days and I was just sitting around reading them over when suddenly I felt the need to write. This is what came out. I have read it over and over and I still have no clue where it came from or what it's about, other than there is a somewhat creepy woman and my ever present theme of night. (I like night in case you haven't noticed.) If anybody deciphers the surreal weirdness of this poem let me know. It would be nice to understand my own freaking poem!



She wandered out
Into the obsidian night
Illuminated only by stars,
By the burning moonbeams of light.

Casting mad hazy shadows
Round and round on the ground
Arms flung abover her head
reaching wildly for the sky.

A silvery dark goddess
In the untamed beauty of
The mysterious nocturnal world,
Drawing you unerringly in.

And how can a mere man,
One such as yourself,
Be expected to resist such?
Her otherworldly grace?

Her silvery grey eyes,
Looking so much like
Her night time dance partner,
The grey moonlight?

She is the night siren
Inspiring the world
And the stories men write
And their dreams at night.

Beauty, grace, passion,
Light and dark, untamed heart,
A dream of the most ethereal
She embodies the night you feel.
-Constance

You got the creepy woman and night right?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Mystery

I wrote this poem about a dream I had. Ever since I wrote it I wondered what it meant. At first it seemed kind of strange. If you didn't know better you might think I had consumed a hallucinogenic drug. I was kind of hesitant to share it because it is a little strange and I wasn't sure of how it would be recieved. While I was talking to April a little while ago I told her about it and she said she would like to read it and I figured since she wanted to read it and my weirdness is bound to come out sooner or later I might as well go ahead and share it.
I really did dream this though and I have come to the conclusion that this is my subconscious' image of God. He holds the whole universe and He is the universe. He has everything and is everything. That is what I have come up with, but you are free to form your own opinion.

Dream visions

I drempt of a man
When I was young.
He carried the world
In His shirt pocket.

The stars lived
In His shining eyes
And the moon was
His glowing smile.

The universe sat
Upon His strong brow
And the sun shone
From all about Him.

I fell from
The sky
Into those eyes
And into His face.
-Constance

There you go, my dream's God. It's full of imagery and it is a little strange. Let me know what you think it is... or if you just agree.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Flashback!

On that fateful night of trying to spruce up my blog with April, I asked her to look through my poetry and pick one out. Then I ran off without my books and then I had a brand new piece to share so I put off putting up the one she picked out. No more. I will be sharing the poem that April picked out. I personally think she picked it out because it was written about her brother (who can blamer her?) and not because it was all that great.
I wrote it years ago! I am talking at least 7 years if not closer to 8 years. So this is a bit of a flashback for me and a glimps of the old me or the young me rather. Feel free to grin at a poem written by a sixteen year old me. Although, I have stayed with the very man this is written about so maybe I should give myself a little more credit. I suppose it doesn't really matter. The poem is very simple, sweet, idealistic, and honest in a way that only a sixteen year old girl can be. I hope you all enjoy it!

Committed

I know this is not
The ideal love affair,

But my darling,
I do not care.

My love for you
Is strong and true,

I will never leave
Or forsake you.

Life has a much
Happier sheen,

When on your
Love I can lean.
-Constance

Sunday, February 15, 2009

I'm a sap!

For those of you who didn't know, my blog got all messed up when April and I attempted to make it all fancy. It's all fixed now and I am moving on. Well, it's all fixed in that I have a whole new one! Still, all of the things that were on the other blog are on this one and you can comment again. (Please)
Now, I didn't bother putting up a blog yesterday. I got home late and I just plain didn't feel like it. Today, however, I feel the need to make up for it. I love Valentine's day! I really do! I'm a sap in the worst kind of way. I like sappy chick-flicks that you need a box of tissue with and I love to read those, oh so cliche, poems and sonnets that most people just ignore. So to further entrench myself in the ranks of "great big saps are us" I will share a poem I wrote today. It is, you guessed it, a love poem of the corniest kind. I hope you all get a cavity from the sacarine sweetness of my mushy, love-drenched verse.

Everything

You are my everything.
A cliche it's true,
But everything I am
loves you.

You are my soul's mate.
My hearts truest song.
My minds refuge.
All of my dreams realized.

So we aren't a fairy tale,
All flowering romance,
And blazing sunsets.
We are love.

You are my everything.
-Constance

There you go. If you like it I am flattered. If you don't... well snicker away! lol!

Ooops!

I went to April's tonight so that she could help me make my blog a little less boring. As you will notice it looks much better now. I even have music! This, of course, makes me smile. Now I took my collection of poems so she could maybe help me pick out which one to share with you for todays entry. The problem with this is that when I left her house to head back home I forgot to take them with me. I guess they can keep her company until I can get back over there and bring my precious books back home. Since I failed to bring them home with me I will be sharing another's work with you. I have always loved William Blake. I am especially fond of his Songs of Innocence. This collection of poetry are so beautiful and speak to me. Every time I read them I fall in love with Blake's eloquence all over again. I am going to share "The Lamb" today. I know some of you may have read it before, but my other favorite is "The Night" and I feel that night has been covered sufficiently in my past two entries. I can't help myself. I love night, the moon, and all of those nocturnal sorts of things so you will probably see a lot of reference to night from me. Okay, back to the point of this blog. "The Lamb" seemed to be the more logical choice between the two so here it is. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I do.

Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee!
-William Blake


See? It's beautiful!

Yay me!

Yay me! Here I am making my second entry! Of course, I have have spent all morning deciding which one of these I feel comfortable putting up. It is a lot harder than I had first thought it would be to share something so personal as your own poetry. That is not to say I thought it was no big deal, I just wasn't anticipating the amount of anxiousness that comes with putting them up and letting them go. They are very private things and I am on here making them very, very public things. I begin to wonder how people handle publishing their work. It must be torture!

The poem I am sharing today is actually several years old. I can't remember what was going on at the time, but apparently I was feeling philosophical, a little optimistic, and a whole lot of naive. Still I liked it when I re-read it so I hope you do too!

Velvet Curtain
The darkness falls
Like a black vlevet curtain
Covering the world's deeds,
Both noble and vile.
So the naked irises of everyday people
Won't know the difference when faced with them.
I consider our love,
While cloaked in this velvet disguise.
Shouldn't love penetrate
The thick material of mortal blindness
Like the stars in the black sky?
Shouldn't hate be punctured in random regions?
So much pain and anger consume our race
Like so many arms of black tar
Drowning hope in the mortal space.
Filling innoccent eyes with darkness.
Not knowing how to see
Or the light to make them free.
Shouldn't we shine a little brighter,
Give these blinded hope for loves starry light?
Show them creation and those created to love.
Like that effulgent star; the sun
Coming over the horizon with its life giving warmth.
-Constance
Well, there you have it. Let me know what you think!