Poems

If you find that you like these poems, I would be honored with a link. However, if you would like to use any part of them for other purposes, please contact me by leaving a message in my guestbook first. Keep in mind that these are my own original works. Thank you!

No One, are you listening?

No One, are you listening?
No One, can you hear me?
No One, do you know
Only you do I call for?

No One, can you see me?
No One, are you looking?
No One, do you care
Only you do I hide from?

No One, are you lonely?
No One, do you need a friend?
No One, do you realize
Only you do I not miss?

No One, can you feel me?
No One, are you touched?
No One, do you sense
Only you do I reach for?

No One hears me clearly
No One sees my face
No One is now lonely
And longing for my embrace.

ŠJAL 9:48pm 1/20/98

you want this to have a name?

give it a name if you want to,
give it a name if you need to,
give this thing a name, go 'head,
give it a name but whatever you do...

don't tell me what you think,
and don't tell me what to do,
don't tell me what to wish for,
I don't want to hear it from you.

if you give this thing a name,
don't tell that word to me.
don't think this is just a game,
'cause it's not, that you'll see.

give this thing a name if you can
give it a name if you think you should
give it a name if you understand
though that won't happen, it never could...

call this thing what you want, go ahead,
give it a name despite everything I've said.

ŠJAL 6:19 pm 1/20/98

Don't do it yet

* * * * . . . . . . * * * *
Don't do it yet, no, please don't,
Please tell the truth and say you won't...
Don't make the light too bright too quick
it hurts my eyes and heart, that trick...
Instead let me kindle the flame within
and then the ~both~ of us might win
for if you help the fire grow bright
Both of us might then have light
and together we will be
and have light to see
if only, if only,
you will
help
me.

ŠJAL 5:10 p.m. 1/20/98

Stare Life In the Eye

Sometimes you have to stop
And stare Life in the eye
Sometimes She'll make you laugh aloud
But sometimes She'll make you cry...

The day before tomorrow
Life thought I was naive
And gave me a promise She couldn't keep
Before telling me to leave.

I grabbed Her by the shoulder
Before She could turn away
And then I saw the face of Life
That day after yesterday...

I saw that Life was beautiful
--Maiden Life, she was a queen--
I looked at her; she looked at me
and this is what I'd seen...

Pure pools of blue so deep,
Laughing eyes --laughing at me--
Deep and purely empty too:
She's just too blind to see.

She knew not what She meant to me,
No, Life had not a clue...
Instead She burned a hole into my heart
With the coldest glare I ever knew.

I hated Her, I pitied Her,
With all my heart and soul...
She could not see her deceptive beauty
Or that she was all too cruel.

She laughed again and passed me
With a chilling parting glance,
And then today I knew that surely
Maiden Life was ruled by Chance.

ŠJAL 4:53 p.m. 1/20/98

my mother's daughter

I hate her.
As much as I love her,
I hate her.
As much as I am her,
I hate her.

Why can't it be easy?
why can't it be like before?
why can't she just hear me?
why can't she anymore?

I am always shouting
as loudly as I can
but still it's but a whisper,
and yet I "shout" again...

I hate this game,
I hate the rules that aren't there...
I hate guessing and
I hate not having her care...

She thinks my life is easy,
but it's not, it never was...
She thinks I have it all made
and that I say things just because...

I wonder if she knows
just how much I hate her right now
I wonder if she sees
that I'm just like her somehow...

somehow...
...I am...

my mother's daughter.

ŠJAL 8:21 pm 1/5/98

Beyond the Window Pane

Beyond the window pane
lies the world drowning;
Out there the pelting rain
does its deadly act.

Though the earth does need
the gift from clouds above
And drinks the rain with greed,
I ask the storm to cease.

For with the rain comes thought
I rather not would have--
But peace cannot be sought
Until the clouds above pass.

Will the rain's end come today?
or will it still remain?
I can't push the clouds away
so I must live with rain...

ŠJAL 6:01 pm 1/5/98

The following piece is featured in the Poetic Express Student Zone.

Sketches

hundreds of years ago
a scientist.
an artist.
...a man...
sat with a piece of charcoal
and made marks on a piece of paper:
ideas.
thoughts.
...sketches...

burnt wood is charcoal,
what is left over when a fire dies,
when the life of a flame ends.
yet,
with the cold, lifeless remains of what was,
the magic of possibility and genius
came to life.
and still lives.
in what he left behind
with the help of a piece of charcoal:
...sketches...

lines of charcoal on the paper
--many lines on much paper--
his ideas.
his work.
..his life...
notions that would change the world
and thoughts that would baffle the rest.
all of them lived in
...sketches...

but
were the inventions the most important?
...or were the renderings of people?
were the blueprints more valuable?
...or the seeds of masterpieces?
who changed the world?
was it the inventor?
...or the artist?
a military tank
...or men at war?
a helicopter
...or a woman?
a pair of wings
...or a mealtime gathering?
both science and art
brought to life
--to bring life--
by the lifeless
piece of charcoal
used for
...sketches...