Young Writers Society

Song of the Woman

He says, you start time, love.

Follow the beat, dark butterfly,
Languid tongue,
Shake, say chant, ache,
Gathering mist incubates delicate storm.
I said to him, I am only wind,
He said, my love, wind must dream too.

Friend’s arms
The telling day

Sad sweet,
Follow, eat, drink, stop sweet butterfly,
Dark breast, languid tongue
Bed of mist, diamond essence,
Have you dreamt yet?

We who are will go away, get away,
I will follow but wish I were with you.

Fast night
We were born round

She put out to play,
Basking in all that sun and summer smell
I felt rode over, worn out,
After a time I felt like an owl’s wing under sunlight.
Eat chocolate, scream together
And run to break the chain.

Time not of gifts
I want to live as if I am and not as if I was,
Death milk easy of rain

Twirl of talk,
Once I talked of spinning and now I talk of standing still.
It’s all about transcending,
Told the dream about the castle garden music and leather,
Manipulate with such smooth luscious strength.

Smooth luscious
Trudge away from all this,
Basking in sky shine and the smell of summer,
Waiting to transcend to something higher.
Beautiful flawed angel girl
Beneath the flood.

Cool white
Purple beat and drawl
You and I lit all at once,
All skin and sincerity, so careful not to trip,
So careful not to trip like them.
You ask why I’m like this,
I say that I am home, that I am peace,
I am peace but you are war.

Wet and winter, tree of raindrops that never land
Tree winter
Dream road from me into me

And her on her chair,
I worship the arm and the leg and the beating heart,
I worship the blade of the knife,
Raw for love
Raw with love
He rocks his head to see the beat,
But does he have the sing?

Most are gone, on the sad run they flee,
Take, rip, slip, pound, the life beats so fast,
Listen to the war fought by these iron boys,
Rusted iron, twisted steel, house of cards falling down,
One weak shot
Only she knows the answer why.

Crush of want

I am you and you are me,
But in the end it is to me to know who I am.

Or if it be as a ring unbroken,
Crack the circle,
Or if it be as a song,
Stop the cord, cut the string,
Or let in ring on forever.
You were like that once, but not anymore

Fly, live, go feed,
The glow of the egg
Trail of rust,
Fingers of age,
Run your fingers through the whisper,
Hold the red rose,
Pierce flesh with thorn,
Light heat floods through,
Urge that boils, scalding danger,
The whisper rose from the frozen spring,
Breath of gods melts frost to dew.

Silent, stuck in the net
Blue cry
Flee to the garden when the moon winter falls,
Honey ship
There came a sad cool rain, to wash it all away.

The child saw and the child knows

Like blood through veins she swims through music,
Or perhaps the music was the blood and she was the vein.

Void of need

Summer of hand magic and moon poetry,
A thousand mad shadows dance,
Time swirls around me,
She sings the same heart sad song.
Desert of cool dry color,
Hope born of star rain,
Yellow place of sand, turquoise dome of sky,
You dream of the Goddess, the sister,
And from your hand flows the green.
Delirious tree

And yet somehow we are glad.

So you ran to do away with winter silent and mad,
Spring from the dark cocoon of sleep,
Dark cocoon of denial, ignorance,
Come down from the garden,
Dark becomes heat and sky blue and curling flower,
Float inside the moon on water.

Her wing she gave

Imagine summer and luscious rust dawns.
You rob me, I say,
You say, you rob yourself.

The languid sun sprawled upon the forest,
Languid curtain of hair, arms and legs against grass,
Breath against sky, you sleep and lie,
Ground beats with the symphony of feet,
Shake, cry, stomp.

Elaborate anger, always red
Fight the bitter war, these iron boys holding the black rose,
Light woman with black ache,
Through the lens of the eternity of one.

Thousand eternity

Fall beneath the flood, the mirth of the sea,
Delicate ugliness of frantic life,
You fight the repulsive urge for power,
Lost in the shadow play of love and power.
I lay floating in cool lazy hurt,
I left to revel in frantic music
To let it boil me fast,
Frantic water.

Waxing moon

See, sing, rip,
We lie forever floating in pink infinity.
The song of the garden shall ring forever.



*I may be the only one who can get the metephors here. It's amazing the trippy stuff you can find in the nonsense of refrigerator magnet poetry sets. This isn't randomness though, I meant it all, even if it is contextually messy. Please tell me what you thought of this wierdness, even if you hated it. I found it, oddly captivating, if i do say so myself, i'd like to know how you, er, found it.