Not-so-cliche poems

The Mutual Friend

Have we ever met?
No, sir, no;

but we share a mutual friend and
you remind me of somebody
I used to know
so if you're interested, I know
of a place we can go and get to
understand the small things
overlooked by other people
now and again
and I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be
Friends.




because I'm a villainess,

because I'm a villainess;
frigid and confused

there is no hope for people like me
not to ruin ourselves in other people's eyes
not to fall in love with an idea
not to give gracious adieu to the spontaneous outburst of magic left
to mankind

you give your love to man
i give mine to what he was intended to be, the glimmer of which
can be seen, still, sometimes
inside the sensitive, the malleable, the weak

I understand what you will not
is that so evil of me?




Under Water

Under water, it's darker.

Much cooler there, and sound travels
thickly;

beautiful music reaching only the ears of
the mediocre
has no reason to play sharply and true
does it?

Under water,
you might be lucky and
see the sunlight laughing at you from the
surface. But,
should you r e a c h f o r i t--
your breath will catch
and you will sink, anew,
into the ideas that seemed so
perfect
when you were
drunk.




[untitled Poe imitation]

O, I was a childe, and thee were a childe, in this kingdom that could not be farther from the sea,
in this hole of a place, this sepulchre-like rivertown
where you found your Annabel Lee,
and realized she was not a childe at all,
but a monster, like you, like me--
and so the angels laughed into their wine glasses
at the thought of what was to be
when the wind kicked up and struck a chord in my throat,
chilling and killing your Annabel Lee--

for after all, just a dream in your head, she was,
this beautiful thing that was not me.


{Okay, so that one was about sad stuff. Sorry.}