Compromise with talent is cowardice

I warned him I was poison,
That my womb spouted lava,
That there was fire between my legs
And it spared no visitor,
Yet he laughed, the fool,
And the proud, vain loon,
Did not pause a moment before
Barging in unwanted,
Like he had, into ninety-nine
other forbidden heavens,
Eager to add a tale more of dominance,
To the ninety-nine others
He would proudly tell,
Only to emerge- consumed,
scorched, devoured by my fumes.
Hadn't I told him I was hell?

Tonight I talked with God
It had been quite some time

I really wasn't sure why
Then I realized the talks ended
When I began imagining my own end
Because why acknowledge the creator
If I thought his work was ****
I refused to commit  

I refused to talk to a God
That might hear my prayer
Something shallow
While souls are extinguished
Wars are waged on innocents
And their prayers sure as hell
Weren't heard

But Tonight I talked with God
I'd given up on waiting
On place-holder euphemisms
"God isn't surprised"
"This happened for a reason"
"You just need to pray more"
"God shuts a door...
"He'll open a window"
**** your window
The only reason that window exists
Is so people like me can jump
Right out of your life

Tonight I talked with God
I yelled
I screamed
I cried
And asked for reasons why
I said it was okay to be alone
If he would just get off his throne
Every once in a while
And meet me in this ******* pile
Of suffering that I find myself in

I'm convinced
Heaven and Hell don't exist

Not like I thought they did

I've experienced Heaven
An innocent first kiss
Holding a new life
An unrelenting friend

I've experienced Hell
A malignant lie
A body broken
Unbearable pain

Heaven and Hell are not places
we go
We experience them everyday

Never really mastered the art of intrigue,
I sometimes wish I had that skill,
Of treading light,
Of being the diva
Surrounded by a mist of aura,
Controlled in laughter,
Calculatedly revealing,
Measuredly unraveling
Her inner self.
I stomp in love,
I bare it all in love,
I laugh with abandon,
I shout with animation,
I cry in immoderation,
I never really learnt to leave
Anything for the imagination,
And it's the greatest gamble,
The toughest game,
To tear your heart out and
hold it in your palm,
And show it to them,
Look, this is how I beat,
Not many can deal
with someone this real.

Jennifer is my cleaning lady.
Very efficient, and reasonable.
She comes every two weeks.
She knows all my shortcomings,
She empties my bins.
One week, she left me a note,
With a poetic question.
Two weeks later, I waited for her
To discuss her query.
Jen is lost without love,
Lost her love,
Wants to write about the pain.
Quid Pro Quo, thought I,
We were soul mates,
So I took the opportunity
To ask about stain remover,
And behold,
Her poem is born.

Ať už jsem, kdo jsem, co já vím,

Víš, že nikomu na světě
                 nepřála bych být tak sám
Přesto všichni jsme sami
                 a jsme tady spolu

A housle hrají nám
                 do rytmu kroků
A doprovázeny
                 vlastním bitím srdce

Zanikají tóny ve vlastní hloubce.

Thin black silk veil covers transparent porcelain white skin and an illuminated red heart flutters wildly within
A mouth with the shape and shine of the moon echos with melancholy tears and laughter lost and a touch of lunacy for the dark side of things
She would fake a smile and say she was okay just to comfort her family and friends and it was easier than trying to explain the things they would never understand
She could handle the weight and the darkness and the monsters didn't scare her as much as she scared them and there was pain in every breath on the worse days and numb on the bad days and the good days seemed to pass in mere minutes and it never slowed down the wild red illuminated heart fluttering madly within her chest

Once upon a time, a little girl found a seed.
She wasn’t looking for a seed,
but she found one anyway.
She held it in the palm of her hand
and wondered and wondered.
She planted it in rich, black soil.
For weeks she watered the soil,
gave it sunlight,
and even sang to it.
It sprouted and grew into a beautiful flower,
with petals of colors man
hadn’t even invented names for yet.
The girl loved the flower,
and the flower loved her back.
They were happy.
But between smiles and blooms,
the girl and the flower knew
that this could not possibly last forever.
“Flower, I know no matter how much I care for you,
some day you will die.”
The flower nodded and when he did,
some of his brilliant petals fell to the soil.
The girl gently pocketed them to keep.
As time went on, the flower began to wilt;
his colors faded;
his roots shriveled with the rest of him;
but the girl still continued to care for him.
When the day came, there was not a speck of color
left in his stem and petals,
and the girl knew he had gone.
She ran her fingers over his soil
only to discover a pile of seeds
that had fallen from his dying center.
She collected them, tilled a patch of land
outside of her window
and planted each of them
with the same love and care as before.
They bloomed bright with petals of colors
man hadn’t even invented names for yet.
The girl loved her flowers
and was happy to share their beauty
with the world passing by.
This, she believed,
was how her flower knew it was to be
all along.

Finally . . .
I sit in the midst of silence . . .
and silence resides in the midst
of me

I strain to hear
the nothingness . . .
and it comes over
so clear

All promises lay asleep
in their coffins . . .
covered in stone and time

This empty blackness
comes complete . . . stealing whatever sanity there is left in me

Here in my equilibrium there
are no days or weeks . . . just the certainly that no one speaks

Come hungry darkness . . .never to be satisfied . . . for you swallow eternity
still there is nothing inside

The indifference of silence
bends over to kiss me . . .
cold blackened lips whispering
"There is no certainty."