Let me tell you of a dream.

I looked toward the heavens and there you were
standing on a rounded hill
mist in your hair and confusion in your eyes.

You were telling me of battles and kings
of castles, and singers of songs
of wars and horses and dark caves.
You took my hand and turned me around
pointed to the west, the foggy far away
pointed to my home.
You ran down the hill giggling
and as I followed in your mirth, you said
“There are your bloody sheep.”

I was telling you of dances and princesses
of plantations, and weavers of wool
of wars and horses and dark slaves.
I took your hand and turned you around
pointed to the rolling hills, the rocky shores
pointed to your home.
You ran up another hill
and as I wrapped my arms around you
a tear ran down your cheek.

We walked down the hill in silence
and as I followed you, in my confusion
I started to weep.
You gently wiped away the tears
said  “Do not cry,
we are so near to heaven.
No wrongs cannot be righted here.
Remember,  in Heaven, the gods are near.”
Your smile calmed my shaking soul.

I looked around
woke up
so like the dream, you were not there.
(c. tac 2/97)

in restless dreams I walk through abbeys that reek with the smell
of history.   Maple and oak with varnish so thick, a small child's hand is lost
in the depth, and I can hear myself breathing, I find myself thinking, I feel myself screaming as the songs snakes into my soul...
 
anyone...
 no-one...
 perhaps I shall toy with you here, my love
oh keeper of my dark side
shadow of my self that I dare not see
distraction more intense than even you can bare
as I caress your soul with my tongue
your heart with my song
your creativity with my lust so strong
as to send you whirling again into the abyss
of darkness and light
inner and outer
being and
not

just being with you lights the fire within me
the words will not cease to flow
come tomorrow
come and free me from these chains
of unearthly bounds
not knowing
but not daring not to know
the dance continues
 it's nights like this
 when my brain is full
 that I am scared to be alone
 scared to be with
 scared to be who I am
 a child of myself
 a child too little to know
 good is good
 and bad never is
 I am
 afraid
(tac 12/96)

Welcome tomorrow
'tis time to fear  me
For in dark night’s sorrow
new life has sprung free.
The power of the ages
burns in my veins
All man’s pathetic rages
shall now fear my reign.
Come sorrow
to those who do not obey me
for those I reject
cannot defray me
 
Come sorrow
to those who hope to slay me
for your million armies
cannot delay me.

You had your chances
oh children of curs
your weak-kneed dances
your death does assure.
your extinction my gift shall be
I pity you for you know it not
bow down to me
and face your rot.
(tac 2/96)

Oh precious poppet what have I done
for back to me you shall always run.
Your poignant blood I shall taste on my lips
Your heart beating, your screams as first I sip.
Upon your virgin soul I shall unbidden feed
My love for you outweighs your need.
At your undeath I shall control your depraved dreams
only then shall you glimpse the fatality of my twisted schemes.
(tac 10/96)

Dimensions

I know you are
you are sitting there rolling your eyes
thinking there she goes again.
You read a line or two
shaking your head
thinking will she ever learn.
Too many nights you've held her hand
and wiped her tears
She loves you now
you loved her then.
Too many nights she's held your hand
and calmed your fears.
You love her now
she loved you then.
You read to the end
shaking with anger
buried by emotions again.
Saying a prayer for her pain
sitting there your heart in flames
I know you are
you are as much as you can be
my friend.
(tac 11/96)

The wolves are howling at the door
oh keeper of my fate
manipulator of my destiny.
The blood of the lamb is on your hands
even now, it is too late.

I watched as the beast approached the fold
I watched as you let it in
Now the carnage is in your hands
your first unforgivable sin.

They huddled in the corner
as one by one you let them fall
the purest and the sweetest
was the bravest lamb of all.

With batting eyes and wobbling knees
she lead them on a chase
and even now that she is gone
a look of peace upon your face.

Now wolves have gone
your vile task complete
upon the air from afar comes a sing-song bleat
despite your  wishes it not be true
your little lamb pulled through.
(tac 11/96)

I was there
I held your hand
I helped you up
I watched you stand.

Now my life slips through your hands
I think to myself
I don't remember this part of the plan.
Is it so much better ?
I won't believe you didn't hear me call
the innocence goes first
next the pride
then the fall.

We had reached the top of the mountain
now you have shown me the way down
fingers slipping on the ice of your heart
no handhold to be found.
Into the crevasse I cascade
thankful at last for an end to the charade
random thoughts as the branches sting my face
blood in my ears as my heart starts to race
Nobody lives through the fall
especially me most of all
soul purged of need
as my body picks up speed..
come winter's icy chill
I wonder
will you still feel the thrill?
You shout into the wind
a tear hides the trace of sin
"I love you, in my own twisted way"
The last words I hear as my grip slips away.
(tac 11/96)

I used to do alone so much better
back before I knew you as I do
a shadow of my present self I wandered
when everything I saw I thought was true.

Now here I sit, remembering your eyes
alone again, sorting through the lies
which to believe
how to decide
who to embrace
who to despise.

I used to pray for no tomorrow
no warm sun to make me face the day
you let me bask in my sorrow
did nothing to chase my tears away.

Now here I sit, no more tears in my eyes
alone again, sorting through the lies
which to believe
how to decide
who to embrace
who to despise.

I used to smile just to please you
with a dance upon the stairs
you said that i would never leave you
steered me clear of your affairs.

Now here I sit, steel blue cold death in my eyes
alone again, sorting through the lies
which to believe
how to decide
who to embrace
who to despise.

Now here I sit, closed eyes
alone again, sorting through the lies
which to believe
how to decide
who to embrace
who to despise.

Believe me.
Embrace me.
Despise me.
(tac 3/96)

I don’t cry anymore
but if I did
I would cry for you and your loss of belief in the world
and I would cry for you at having to settle when you know what you want
and for you also, so happy, so confused
and for me.
Mostly for me, probably

I don’t cry anymore
and I can tell you exactly when it happened.
I was in seventh grade, and her name was Julie.
Julie, the only person I ever knew that truly hated me.
She wrote horrible things in my yearbook,
It was simple
she wanted the part
but that’s not why.

I don’t cry anymore.
In a pure white dress with a green mantilla
I am the Princess Infanta Maria
SLAP
Princess of Spain and of the Indies
SLAP
We practiced stage slaps
but on opening night, it was no stage slap from Julie
no-one ever knew
my eyes watered
she nearly knocked me off the bench
people thought I was really into the part
I wouldn’t give Julie the satisfaction
the show must go on.

I don’t cry anymore
you don’t believe my reasoning, of course
but the tears don’t even come
you asked if I was okay
you assumed I was
I wasn’t
I’m not.

I don’t cry any more
I still wear that white dress mentally some times
and remember Julie
and remember the feeling of being hated
but princesses don’t cry
especially not the Infanta Maria
definitely not where any one can hear
so it’s easier all around
if I just don’t cry any more.
(tac 10/96)

Guardian cat...
Black triangle nose
poking through blinds
bright eyes eager for the homecoming
waiting
bored bored bored
waiting
mind wanders
restless.

Mom is gone...
tail out straight, swishing deceptively
too much energy
bounding from window to window
blinds rattling
birds flying
half-silent i-want-the-birds kitty mews
little drool droplets at bunnies beyond reach
wash face
resigned sigh head on pillow
snowy white belly begging to be scratched
sleep.

Mom is home...
door floor cabinet food dish door
gentle paws around ankles
teeth into tender flesh right there bad mom
long stretch she can't resist
cabinet food dish food dish mom
what hairbrush it's mine
you left without it
pounce.

Pyramid cat
perched on broad haunches observing the room
whiskers glistening with juice of savory salmon
catnip toys strewn haphazardly, never out of reach
bungee mouse still swinging from last attack
my people around me
life is good
purr.
(tac 7/96)

How could you have known?
The cold stone petals
the marble blossom
so close to the edge
so close to what I would like to be
so far from where I feel I am.

It is almost as if
you reached out and touched me somehow
in one of those places within myself
that I don't go very often.

It is almost as if
you were standing there beside me somehow
as the cold crept from the stone
and settled itself forever deep within me.

The eerie silence is gone now
the granite ghosts behind the dreams vanished
so much closer to the light
so much closer to being who I want to be
so much more like what I am.
How could you have known?
(tac 9/96)

I used to lock my skeletons away in the closet
but now i open the door
and invite them out to dance and play.
I figure, why not
at least they make good company
and won't tell me anything about myself that I don't already know
and besides, the rattling of the bones is kind of soothing, almost like windchimes after a while.

I used to keep my skeletons in a drawer
but they got restless
and kept playing with my lacey things.
I thought it was time for them to get some light
dust off some cobwebs
and besides, they smell nice
kind of like sachet.. or dryer sheets
I can't tell which.

I used to let them play in the bathtub
but that got messy
and I got tired of showering in cold water.
They liked to play with my makeup, though.
They taught me some new ways to use the brushes,
but I think they are safer where they are now.
Besides, they looked strange in my jewelry.

My skeletons pretty much have the roam of the house now.
They like to lock me in my closet.
Sometimes they let me sit in the drawer and play with my lacey things.
And if I am very very good.. I can have an almost warm shower, sometimes... (usually on Sundays.. in the afternoon)..
Besides, anymore, I can't seem to tell which ones are the skeletons, and which one is me.
(tac 12/96)

I sit trying not to believe
that i am saying what I am saying
that i love you
that i never thought i would again let myself say.

so special
so warm
so deep
so true

You sit trying not to believe
that you are heaing what I am saying
that you love me
that you have not buried for good those feelings you tried so hard to lock away.

so real
so close
so intense
so new

We sit here not believing, but we do
that we are together yet apart in sweet agony
that we love each other
that we have each other now to help chase the fears away.

so fresh
so real
so calm
so you.
(tac 8/96)