the taste of forbidden fruit: Angel's NaPoWriMo Thread

Browsing the dim back corner
Of a musty antique shop
Opened an old book of poetry
Angels flew out from the pages
I caught the whiff of a soul
The ink seemed fresh as today
Was that voices whispering?
The tree of the paper still grows.
~Pixie Foudre

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1.) The Death of Sanity
2.) Mercutio's Lament
3.) Hazards of Love
4.) The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death
5.) My Russian is as Rusty as my Religion
6.) i just called to say...
7.) 90% Dead Inside
8.) the dissection of hearts
9.) I'll go to Funky Town with you, if you buy the tickets


EXTRAS

1.) Pinpoint Miseries
2.) past tense reveries

For some reason, this post will say it was made April 2nd but really it's April 1st. I must have it set to the wrong time zone or something.

April 1

The Death of Sanity

the trees strum the chords of life
binding the strings and whistling the tunes
horses come round in their carriages
whipping the humans, making them go faster
foam rains from their dirty tongues as
they lick the earth, feeling more in tune with God

their ears are wide open and their eyes are awake
can you hear him? can you hear him?
the devil is a lie, he is speaking to you in whispers
singing to you like a mother nursing her newborn child
are you listening? are you listening?
the devil is speaking, his words are lies

the sky pounds the drums of tranquility
punching the clouds and accentuating the thunder
aliens watch us from the Mother Earth
wondering what we are, and how we came to be
shock pours out their eroded eyes as
they watch the earth, wondering if we believed in a God

their hatred spreads like love and they are ready
can you see them? can you see them?
the aliens are coming, in fact they are already amongst us
living like it was them who had life breathed into their lungs
are you watching? are you watching?
the aliens are here

you watch with awe as the world goes awry
what can you do? what can you do?
your mind is in a blurry prison, binding you
to your current state of ecstasy, bliss
and all the while, you're unaware of the fact
that the devil is watching you

Interesting. I'm quite fond of stanza one. Consider looking into punctuation. It's a marvelous thing. Also! I've got to say that the meaning of this is pretty convoluted. I know I'm not necessarily one to preach, but possibly look into some clarity in the future as well? I dunno. It's fun to spin.

Luck.

-Kylan

Thanks for the advice Ky! I'll keep the punctuation in mind. Hopefully this one is less confusing.

April 2

Mercutio's Lament
By Angel of Death

Green is my soul,
please let it grow in the light.
Give me a drink from your lips,
for there rest the sweetest wine.

My heart bleeds not of death,
but of afterlife.
I am not dead, but I am with my
God. The being that has created
the eyes from which I see and the
lungs from which I breath.

Leave the dagger in my chest,
do not pull it from my person.
I am with you forever, Romeo.
Forever am I with you.

You will never forget me,
for the envy in my soul
that lives with a green fire,
will haunt you for the rest of
your days.

I, the man who have lived for the day
has died in your weak arms. It is I who
should be watching your eyes
sink into the horizon. It is I who should
be breathing with the lungs that God
has given me.

But here have I a curse upon
both of the houses that have
caused my demise. And when
you are to look for me by morning's
light, you shall not find me with a
smile upon my face for I will be
a grave man.

*This poem was inspired by the William Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet . My favorite character is Mercutio and I just wanted to write my rendition of what I thought he should have said. The last sentence in the stanza was taken from the actual text.

April 3

Hazards of Love

Lipstick on your collar
Perfume on your skin
Wine on your lips
Your lies are wearing thin

You quietly close the door
Trying to be inconspicuous
And when I turn on the lights
You look so damn suspicious

We exchange words
And the words that we exchange
Seem to erase our wedding vows
It's like love just went down the drain

Angry, you pack your bags
And tears burn in my eyes
As you once again walk out that door
Taking your love and your lies

There's a six-pack in the fridge
I drink every can until I'm numb
Until the night is over
and the morning has come

April 4

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death

I

Oh! Has heaven laid
eyes on such a sight
so lovely.
Look! See how fragile
and gentle a creature
she is.
If I were alive, my
heart would beat
with love and
sing with life.
For she is the
epitome of
happiness.

II

Nightingale, oh! Nightingale
Speak to me in words so kind.
Tell me my friend, who is
that soul behind that
tree?
Has he come for
me oh Nightingale!
He stares at me with
such a life, I wonder
if he has life at all.

III

If I can be that bird
in her hands, I'd
sing to her a melody.
No longer has beauty
stole from my soul
but it has given me
light. For I shall take a bride
tonight.
She waits for me,
her her eyes have
swayed my soul.
I must find out
her name, so
I can sing it to the
highest peak of
Heaven for Hell
has frozen over
today!

IIII

Oh, Nightingale! He
knows of my curiosity.
He comes for me!
He comes for me!
Oh, I am frightened
of his presence.
His soul is quite
dark but his eyes
are loving.
Oh, Nightingale!
Sing to me a
sign from my father
in Heaven!
Who is this man
that comes towards
me.

V

It is I, my love.
The one to take
you to your
rightful place.
Where a throne
of gold will
illuminate your
grace. I will
care for you
if you promise
to remain by
my side and
be my beautiful
wonderful, bride!

VI

You speak
so kindly to me,
oh dark Lord.
But the light
has drifted from
my eyes. You
are so dark, oh
mysterious Lord.
And yet so kind,
why so kind?
You love me,
oh mysterious
Lord. You
love me.

VII

I love you,
and if my
heart were to
beat, I'd take
you to me,
and express
to you my sincerity.
But you must trust me,
my love. You must love
me. Oh! How I see
it in your eyes, the
fear you can not disguise.
Oh flower child, with green
sleeves, tell me your
name, oh please!


VIII

Persephone!
Persephone, the
name of the wind
and the trees.
Oh, please
do not hurt me!

IX

That name can
move a mountain
with it's glory. Oh
it can bring a God
to his knees.
My love, Persephone,
how I wish to say your
name a million times.
Until you're mind.
Oh! Tell me oh
ghostly spell,
the maiden from
my darkest hell,
what can I say
to make you see
that I love thee.

X

I hear my mother
calling for me!
Oh Lord, she is
coming. She is
coming. I am
sorry, but we
have never met
and I must go.
I must forget.
My father in
Heaven
has answered my
prayer. You shall
not be mine I fear.

XI

Your father in Heaven,
is Zeus! My almighty
brother, how I spit
on that name.
It makes the very
blood in veins
boil and char in
flames.
Come with me,
Persephone!
Now I see
what I must
do take you be mine.

Zeus, father in Heaven!
King of all the land,
please help me!
Help me!
Your brother is taking
our daughter away!

Persephone I will
save your soul,
but please refuse
to eat from his bowl
Spit out his wine
and most importantly,
don't fall in love!

XII

I can't believe,
I wondered about
such an evil soul.
How absent-minded
a fool am I, to believe
such love can come
from someone so
dark and heartless
too! I hate you, dark
Lord. I hate you!

XIII

But I love you,
my sweet dew
drop of Heaven!
Oh how my brother
is writhing in pain!
He will never
come for you.
You are mine now!
Now, fair child, come
drink some water!
Have an apricot.
You can have anything
your heart desires.
Fear me not!

XIV

I shall rot,
for I will not
eat from your
hateful hand.
I will die in
Hell before
I live in Heaven.
This place will never
be my home.
Now go, my Lord.
Leave me alone!

XV

She hates me,
she detests my
very soul. Oh!
How much like
her father she is.
So stubborn but
yet I love her!
And yet she's
slipping away!
Soon the Underworld
will have his way.
This play will kill
my bride if she is
to stay. But I will
not release her!
She is my forever.
And Zeus, my brother,
can continue to strike
the land with lightning
and roar with thunder!
But he will not get
back what belongs to
me. My beautiful
beautiful, Persephone!

XVI

Oh! Nightingale how I
wish you were here,
to wipe away this tear!
How it lingers in my
eyes and refuses to
fall. Oh! Nightingale,
I am growing tired
and Death is on my
horizon. I am dying!
I am dying!

XV

What is this?
My brother has
sent me a messenger.
Ah, Hermes!
What brings you
to my humble abode!
Please, rest your wings,
have a drink!
A friend of Zeus,
oh how I spit on that
name, deserves
to be treated
like a King.
Ah, what's this!
Your words are
filled with urgency!
Oh, your master
wants me to release
Persephone!
Well, the girl
is a pain and
she won't love
me. So take
the wretch!
Do with her
what you may.
I will send her
out later today.
Begone! Hermes!
Begone!

XVI

Oh, is it true
what he is said.
Hades is releasing
me from dread!
Bless him, oh
bless him!
I will see my beloved
mother before
the day is out!

XVII

Persephone!
Persephone!
Come at once,
Persephone!
I know you
can only hate
me but my love
for thee, though
wilted like a
flower without
water, still blossoms
and hopes that
your heart, so filled
with life and beauty
will change.
But please, do this
one last thing
for your master,
eat and then I promise
you'll be free.

XVIII

My mother told
me to resist
your food and your
wine but that
pomegranate looks
so divine. I have
passed through
this land without
any food or sustenance.
And I can not resist
this forbidden fruit.
Give it to me, my Lord,
only one bite will do

XIX

Yes, my love, eat
at fill yourself
with the sweet taste
of the fruit from my
hand. Eat the seeds
and drain the blood
for it is the greatest
thing you have ever
tasted, is it not, my
love?

XX

It is my Lord, but
why do I feel
the way I feel.
I've never felt such
death before. It's
beautiful and yet
so frightening.
Please tell me Hades,
am I dying?

XXI

No, my love,
you are just
leaving all that
you have known.
This is your
rightful place.
There is your throne
of gold. It will
illuminate your
grace. And I will
care for you
if you promise
to remain by
my side and
be my beautiful
wonderful, bride!

XXII

It is now that I
shall take my
leave, for you
have promised
me. You have
promised me!
I am free, no
longer am I
your love,
your sweet,
your Persephone.
Leave me be,
my Lord.
Take me back
to my home.
I do not care
for your throne.
I am free!
I am free!

XXIII

Oh how her
spirit glows
as she embraces
her mother.
Oh I feel such
sorrow for making
her feel pain
but what I about me?
Don't I deserve happiness?
Yes, I do for I have
lived in a Hell alone for
too long. And has she not
ate from my hand a
pomegranate from my
land! She will be mine
soon again and again
and again!

What is this rhyme
that he speaks,
Persephone?
Did you eat from
him, Persephone?
Tell me now, Persephone?

XXIV

Yes I have, but why is it
that you're crying.
This is supposed to be
a joyous day. I am with
you to stay but you deny
this truth that I am speaking.
Why mother? Why?
What are you saying?
Yes, I have ate from his hand
but what does it mean?

XXV

It means, my love, you shall
be my queen and only
our time apart shall
intervene the love we'll share.
You have consumed the fruit
that has sealed your fate.
Now it is too late.
For four months you shall
be mine and then it is then
that you shall see your mother.
But you will always be mine and
that is a promise that I plan to keep.

THE END

*Sorry about the length but I was feeling inspired and hopefully this wasn't too experimental.

April 5

My Russian is as Rusty as my Religion

I saw the Eiffel Tower bow
to the war on Spinoza Street.
The cannons burst in the air
but no one was there.

No one was there to
see the London Bridges
fall. No one would care, if they
saw it all.

I saw the Great Barrier Reef
get sucked up by the wind.
To the galaxies and beyond
but did anyone care in the
end?

I saw a soldier fall down
in a war from long ago.
He had a family,
don't you know?

Women died in a factory,
amongst flames with no escape.
They cried and cried for life
but death never comes late.

All that I am, is what
could have been. But who cares,
my Russian is as rusty as my religion.

Pinpoint Miseries

Dear Sanity,

You're a phantom in disguise
Haunting every part of me
Bringing me closer to demise.

I want so much to turn on the
light, for it's the dark that you
reign over. But on the other hand,
I want to pull you closer and closer.

Wrapped up in a butterfly blanket
of emotions. I'm drowning in a sea
of ink-filled oceans. Throw me
a rope, breathe air into body.
Save me, dear sanity.

Sincerely,

Insanity.

April 6

i just called to say...

There isn't a word
in the world that
I can say to
voice the thoughts
in my head. Love
is only a four-lettered
promise that can be showed
in a box of chocolate or
a Valentine's Day card. Some
people confuse love with kisses
under the sheets or a few
vows recited in Las Vegas
before a rented priest.
But what we have goes deeper
than sex or marriage.
The thought of just holding
your hand and being your
best friend, hearing your
opinion on music and politics,
seeing the things you see,
feeling the things you feel,
is all I want. We don't have
to be anything that's too
strenuous, we can just be.
And that is why I just called
to say...I love you.

April 7

90% Dead Inside

It's been a long time since the dawn
broke through the night. With straws
for legs and a handful of coal for a
heart, he sits down on the bench in
the desolate train-station.

In his pocket, a note aged
by years and a few misguided
tears weighs him down. He's
ten seconds from Hell but
only one drink away from death.

Rats scurry across the concrete
floors attuned with the bump!
bump! bump! of his heart. Oh
how it surges with an electricity
even Tesla couldn't understand.

Her breath is still on his lips. Those
unsure eyes of hers are the cerulean
sunrise in his torrent of night. The
feel of her body next to his....

Trains go by. People get on. People
get off. No one notices him as
he sits there, 90% dead inside.


~Edited~

April 8

the dissection of hearts

They send love me-love me not
flowers to each other and on
good days their love is flying
like doves on a lavender morning.

When the going gets rough, their hearts
sink into a deep dark abyss, breaking
apart like the Titanic. All of the trinkets
and remainders of love, lost.

They met on a cold December morning,
when their eyes were so drunk off
of each other that their souls burned.
It was love at first sight.

But this four lettered word, with it's
sheepish grin and cherub face and
blood-red bow, must be blind, for
these two were not meant to be.

Some nights, he'd come home when
the night was too old to change into
day, and she'd be up, waiting, waiting.
Always wondering...

When the sound of her own voice became
her life's duet, she would watch the gardener
as he trimmed the love me-love me not flowers,
remembering how her and her husband kissed
at the crumbling kissing gate.

Like Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Juliet,
Orpheus and Eurydice, their love had to come
to an end. Did not they know that true love
never lives, but it dies and dies and dies.

True love, in all it's celestial charm, and
star-crossed ways, only exist in a writer's
mind, for humans have not yet learned
how to manifest it.

To harvest it, until it's seed grew into a
garden free of lust and hatred and lies
and cheating. If only they learned
what their heart was truly capable of.

If only...

I meant to pop by this a long time ago. <_<;;

horses come round in their carriages
whipping the humans, making them go faster
foam rains from their dirty tongues as
they lick the earth, feeling more in tune with God

And meant to tell you that these four lines were so incredibly intense that I'm a little scared of them. I love it. <3

You will never forget me,
for the envy in my soul
that lives with a green fire,
will haunt you for the rest of
your days.

and

It is I who
should be watching your eyes
sink into the horizon. It is I who should
be breathing with the lungs that God
has given me.

equals
o___________o;

Like, seriously? Fantastic. It just brings the envy, frustration, and anger so close to the reader, where they might not have understood it in Shakespeare. =/ Poor Mercutio.

There's a six-pack in the fridge
I drink every can until I'm numb

I like that.

Oh
it can bring a God
to his knees.

Totally. I heart Persephone and Hades. My babies. I really like the premise of this series of poems, but I /do/ think it could be more poetic. Right now it just feels like some dialogue with line breaks {though I did catch some rhyming throughout there -- free and Persephone, side and bride}. n_n

But who cares,
my Russian is as rusty as my religion.

This line is so powerful that it deserves a powerful poem behind it. The rest of the poem was kind of narrative and though the events mentioned were serious at the time, you didn't bring the emotion to us.

With straws
for legs and a handful of coal for a
heart, he sits down on the bench in
the desolate train-station.

And this was a powerful description. That poem was probably my favorite of the lot, but I think the end could have been stronger. <3

But this four lettered word, with it's
sheepish grin and cherub face and
blood-red bow, must be blind, for
these two were not meant to be.

That was also a good description! Do some more of these! -claps-

True love, in all it's celestial charm, and
star-crossed ways, only exist in a writer's
mind, for humans have not yet learned
how to manifest it.

And that is so true.

I like these! I will be back for more!

Thanks Hannah!

I agree with you on The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death. It really isn't a poem but the idea woke me up out of my sleep, so it was like I had to write it and all of the ideas I had turned into that big chunk. I think when April is over, I will work with it a little more to make it seem more poetic.

April 9

I'll go to Funky Town with you, if you buy the tickets

Oh how I remember those days-
with their French kisses scented with
a drop of Spring- when love was a simple
thing. Augmented by the sand and the shovel
and the slides and the swings.

We didn't have to worry about sex, kisses
or those other things, because we were to
young to care. But then we grew older and
the jazzed up streets with their hormones on
high got us drunk off of the thought of jumping
in.

Boys wanted nothing but to see more than a girl's
lips and eyes, for he was worried more about
those hips and thighs. And the girls thought they
were in love because he kept her out late and
took her on dates in his expensive car.

The parents grew weary as their kids started
having sex to feel the bliss that is sealed with a
kiss in old black and white films that they don't
show anymore.

And when it is time, she isn't ready.
There's no condom and her heart can't beat steady.
But he wants her bad and will tell her anything to
make her cave in. She doesn't want to lose him
so she gives in.

Deep down inside she wants to cry but has to hide
her feelings in order to protect her pride. He kisses
her on the lips and says he's in love and now
he is all she can think of.

She writes his name in all her books, doesn't
care when he talks about the way she looks.
Even tries to stop eating when he says she's
gaining too much weight. But wait...

When its time for her period, it doesn't come
and she's left feeling pitiful and dumb. For
she didn't tell her 'love' to wear a condom
and know she can't reverse what was done.

Throw-up and pain is all she feels. And the regret
of not taking her birth control pills hurts worse.
When she tells him, he breaks up with her and
tells her that everything is not going work.

When her parents find out, they're mad
because they can't believe this is happening
they had taught her that abstinence was key
now their only daughter was having a baby.

Oh how I remember those days-
with their French kisses scented with
a drop of Spring- when love was a simple
thing. Augmented by the sand and the shovel
and the slides and the swings.

We didn't have to worry about sex, kisses
or those other things, because we were too
young to care.



past tense reveries

I once fell in love on a ferry to New Orleans,
but that was when that kiss on the lips by a
prince was just a dream. Now I'm sitting at my
desk, trying to catch my breath, as I cry and cry
and cry, for the world is nothing like the one
I want it to be.
Oh how reality should die
and it could
and it should
but if it did
where would dreams lie.

April 10

It is hell, a candy covered
purgatory that dances
hand in hand with
euphoria dripping from
the hands of Artemis
as she puts the earth
to sleep.

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death not poetry! Shut your mouth and stop that crazy talk. Is too poetry! Though I agree with Hannah that some of it could be more poetic.




It actually reminded me quite a bit of Robert Browning's Porphyria's Lover.

Angel, what I really enjoyed was that most of your poems are Dramatic monologues, i.e. Mercutio's Lament, which is beyond awesome, by the way. (Dramatic monologues, totally a throw back to Browning, again.)



I do think in some of your poems, you need to implement some punctuation.



Stuff I really, really liked.

Mercutio's Lament wrote:Green is my soul,
please let it grow in the light.
Give me a drink from your lips,
for there rest the sweetest wine.

Mercutio's Lament wrote:I, the man who have lived for the day
has died in your weak arms. It is I who
should be watching your eyes
sink into the horizon. It is I who should
be breathing with the lungs that God
has given me.

But here have I a curse upon
both of the houses that have
caused my demise. And when
you are to look for me by morning's
light, you shall not find me with a
smile upon my face for I will be
a grave man.

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death wrote:Nightingale, oh! Nightingale
Speak to me in words so kind.
Tell me my friend, who is
that soul behind that
tree?
Has he come for
me oh Nightingale!

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death wrote:If I can be that bird
in her hands, I'd
sing to her a melody.
No longer has beauty
stole from my soul
but it has given me
light. For I shall take a bride
tonight.

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death wrote:Your father in Heaven,
is Zeus! My almighty
brother, how I spit
on that name.
It makes the very
blood in veins
boil and char in
flames.
Come with me,
Persephone!
Now I see
what I must
do take you be mine.

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death wrote:I shall rot,
for I will not
eat from your
hateful hand.

The Tale of Lady Greensleeves and Lord Death wrote:Yes, my love, eat
at fill yourself
with the sweet taste
of the fruit from my
hand. Eat the seeds
and drain the blood
for it is the greatest
thing you have ever
tasted, is it not, my
love?

i just called to say... wrote:There isn't a word
in the world that
I can say to
voice the thoughts
in my head.

90% Dead Inside wrote:It's been a long time since the dawn
broke through the night. With straws
for legs and a handful of coal for a
heart, he sits down on the bench in
the desolate train-station.

In his pocket, a note aged
by years and a few misguided
tears weighs him down. He's
ten seconds from Hell but
only one drink away from death.

Rats scurry across the concrete
floors attuned with the bump!
bump! bump! of his heart. Oh
how it surges with an electricity
even Tesla couldn't understand.

my Russian is as rusty as my religion wrote:But who cares,
my Russian is as rusty as my religion.

the dissection of hearts wrote:They send love me-love me not
flowers to each other and on
good days their love is flying
like doves on a lavender morning.

the dissection of hearts wrote:To harvest it, until it's seed grew into a
garden free of lust and hatred and lies
and cheating. If only they learned
what their heart was truly capable of.

Ta,
Cal.