Friday, August 24, 2012


The Blind Prince

when i fell onto the thorns they tore out my eyes
and so I stumbled in the dark forest
lost without you my green-haired maiden

all i want is to see your elfin face again
gazing at me with dew-sparked, leaf-eyed wonder
as if i am the only man in the world
(and so, in that tower world made by a witch i was)
but my sockets are empty
caterpillars nest there and the seeds of the rose bush
soon i will have flowers growing from my head
and butterflies flying forth from it

how could i ever have taken sight for granted?
angry at the injustices i saw in the world around me
the beggars in the street, the dying children, my own weakness
my secret fear of even your otherworld features, your shining body
now i wish to see it all, to help and grow, to be worthy of you
to overcome my terror and rescue you as i once promised
but i can only stumble over gnarled roots
like a witch's fingers
sleep on the mossy earth
reaching out for you, maiden, in my sleep
believing i smell violets
and waking with dried leaves crumbling in my hands
and a heart as dead as my eyes

someday you will find me
i know this
for you lifted me to your breast on the ladder of your hair
someday you will weep on my face
as you once did when we lay together in your tiny bed
thanking me for finding you
when even your parents had forsaken

this time your tears will heal me and give me sight
eyes will grow fresh in me like small animals
never again will i fall from you
never again will i refuse to see


  1. "We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it's forever."
    -- Carl Sagan

  2. (Lotus)
    Muddy and filthy water
    Nobody cares
    walking by

    They can't see
    the brown and murky

    Something grows

    Later on
    everyone stops
    to wonder

    How beautiful
    How can it survive?

    Lotus flowers

  3. her skin is ghost-like, translucent
    a shade of purple on a backdrop of smokey eyes.
    i touch her right arm and it hatches from a cocoon,
    a massive wing emerging.
    moments later the other hatches
    and she flies out an open window.

    i go to my nightstand and light an incense
    and a candle in her memory.
    i lie in bed my arms spread, imagining i am transforming
    so i might fly away as well, but my arms stay arms,
    my skin bright pink and my eyes hazel.

    i stop taking my pills like she did months ago.
    i watch in the mirror as my skin turns pale and my eyes,
    full of no emotion, darken with each passing moment.

  4. cover me in butterflies
    i want to be transformed
    make me better than i am
    change me from within

    in the tarot card reading
    at her apartment above the bakery
    where it smelled like muffins, cookies, and fresh baked bread
    my friend's roommate said,
    this card means you will undergo a metamorphosis

    it showed an image of an emerging butterfly
    but there wasn't anything wrong with me then
    why would i need to change?

    all these years later
    and i've never seen him again
    that artist who made sculptures

    he had no idea
    i didn't even know
    people from then
    would no longer recognize me

    i barely recognize myself

  5. Memory

    If I make a sound
    it's an accident
    like the rustle of leaves on a sidewalk.

    My voice croaks like a toad in reverse
    unfurling its long tongue and letting go
    a king.

    We're petals and wings, we are
    bits of color unfolded from the black
    self-made origami
    excited utterances
    that slip back into hiding
    whenever the light burns too strong
    only to re-emerge, pushed out of the dark
    by a breath.

    We're dirt-encrusted seeds
    secret turns that one by one become leaves, pistils, stamens, flowers,
    and seed again
    while seed memory - a flower, a heart - flirts with hovering flies
    enticing with sweet exhales
    until one alights to be stealth painted in pollen
    freeloading to the next seed memory.

    That's all there is
    when the air arrives to lift a wing into flight
    or brushes petal lips to catch a scented kiss:
    where you once had eyes for me
    there is only memory.

  6. Afraid of his touch
    Love's pierce
    I know that it will break walls
    I built to protect
    how can I go out on dates, kiss anyone? When I know already what havoc, what hellmouths it will open? Do I move willingly toward this?
    I will grow parts I didn't know I had
    it will call out the dead nesting inside me
    I can feel the padded room that holds
    the wailing witch.
    I can feel the tears that know death's grief, tears that also have healing properties, have created miracles when combined with the alchemy of love.
    I'm afraid he'll be reckless with that touch
    I'm afraid he'll be corrupted by its power
    I'm afraid I won't be able to wield my own power he draws out
    afraid he'll break every piece of my self, so the toxic parts will combine with the kind and acid burn through my being until I'm just a pool, wrecked, dissolved. The careful identity rebuilt/constructed after trauma

  7. You struck me blind
    I could see nothing else but you
    Your charms like monarchs wings
    your love like camelia petals
    I felt that life began and ended with you
    and so I clung to you
    like the memory of breathing when you're drowning
    or the memory of waking up when you are having nightmare

    I gave you all I was
    my sight
    my words
    my body
    my love

    I was all that you wished for me to be
    Were wishes were my thoughts
    Your needs my actions

    But perhaps this was too much
    I scared you with so much
    You left without ceremony or goodbyes
    Left me broken and yes blind

    Your monarch wings
    Your camelia petals
    mine new eyes

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  9. It is dangerous to want things too much.

    Imagine that girl
    Once upon a time
    Who's kindness to strangers
    Won her that cursed

    With every word you speak
    Flowers and gems shall
    Pour from your lips.

    Oh lady, witch, fairy queen,
    Take this blessing

    These precious jewels
    bruise, thorns
    Tearing her lips into
    Blood-slicked, ruby-red
    How many lovers kiss that
    Mouth, whispering
    Tell me you need me
    Tell me you love me
    Tell me, tell me.

    The taste in her mouth.
    The loneliness of
    Cloying, rose-scented silence.

    I wanted more than this.
    I wanted to see, I asked
    For rubies and roses,
    For what scratched and bruised,
    For beautiful-dangerous, some
    To fill my poems, and now...

    Be careful of rubies,
    Be careful of roses,
    Be careful of
    What you wish for.

  10. i found your lips
    a strange velvet
    hammering into my

    i saw you were given
    a new heart
    your scars a swift
    to feel each second
    of time