Blind

Rainy streets–

footfalls reflect off of wet concrete.

All I knew was I could not run;

I could not hide.

The storm–

It thunders majestically,

and I could see and feel the fear

that shook the sky... and tore apart the town.

Are you alive?

I've searched for you endlessly.

I have run all through the snow,

and through the fog.

Your trail

has led me to its end.

You have left me far behind,

and in the dust... I discovered I was blind.

Due for an Appointment

Temporal Signature: 8,120AAAA
Dear Diary,
      Humans are so egotistical. They think that some great creator laid out a vast and beautiful universe just for them to live in and admire. Actually, the huge size just prevents them from waging intergalactic warfare and spreading violence and destruction too far from their own environment. Same goes for all of the other species, like Shkalicks and Lormens. Really, they're all the same species, but they live in different parts of the universe. I've named them to keep them organized. Other things I'm a bit careless with - I kinda dropped most planets and stars onto space-time and let them float around until they met up, kinda like sliding a bunch of magnets at each other on the floor.

     Anyway, about humans. They're obnoxiously needy too. They keep sending me these weird "prayer" things about wanting to win their little talent shows or passing their school exams. Honestly, I'm not gonna help them - if they can't help themselves, then they don't deserve my assistance. The Shkalicks and Lormens have never asked me for help; they just keep working. They also have a lot fewer wars because they're not constantly bickering about whose "God" is better, nor are they declaring war in my or my son's name. I mean, c'mon, Jesus is just my hippie son. He's a peace-loving guy. He doesn't even like arm wrestling, much less nuclear warfare.

     Oh well. I'll solve the problem soon enough. A while back, I sat down and had a chat with the Mayans. Good people. They gave me lots of gifts, although virgins and animals are rather strange presents (a basket of flowers would be just fine). I told them I'd come down again, and we scheduled a specific time. Since then, the Mayans' civilization has gone, but humans are still in need of a check-up. My calendar has the date marked 8,120AAAB - a time that the humans have taken to calling "the end of the world" or "2012."

     Eh. This oughta be good.

     Signed,
God a.k.a. Allah a.k.a. Yahweh a.k.a. Brahman a.k.a. The Flying Spaghetti Monster, and the rest.

     P.S.: I hope I can find my Cthulu suit. THAT would be cool.

Mists and Flames

Along waves of slumber, your dreams gently sail over the sea.
And under the moonlight, your breaths rise and fall with a peaceful sigh.
The mists make me wonder why I wanted to follow you home,
but when I lay down beside you, I remember the reasons I'm here.

You awaken at my side in the dead of the night and we whisper.
Our words are mere nonsense and our eyes drift lazily across the sky.
Soon the night turns red with flames and explosions of war,
and the lights of the city slowly fade in the haze.

The bombs begin falling and the forests are set ablaze, but I have no fear.
An autumn breeze blows and carries away the ashes from afar.
The mists make me wonder how I'm going to carry you home.
But when I lay down beside you, I can see that there's nowhere to go.

(And we'd best not try to walk home from here...)

Red

A shining orange sunset sinks down the sky.

I'm left without a name and without a care.

But if tomorrow's sun should rise and fall without a single word,

then the days thereforth shall forever be your own.

But why should I have in mind to speak to someone I don't know?

Fewer and fewer grow my hours in this place.

I don't have much to say but I think I've said it all

and nothing remains but a farewell song.

A broken morning's sky is filled with clouds.

I have thoughts that I'm afraid to say out loud.

I'm still playing with notes but I have no words to speak:

these days shall forever be your own.

Shadows

Wandering for days, but you're lost in your thoughts;

there's no map to guide you home.

The shouting that surrounds you

will erode as you fall asleep.

And no-one there

will see you because

you're running away.

And no-one there

will hear you because

you've nothing to say.

Don't let the voices of your past

convince you to return.

Seek shelter and asylum

in the shadows that blind us all.

Your memories won't

leave you no matter

how far you run.

But if nothing else

stops you, I'll go

with you on your way.

Freedom (Song)

The music for this song.

Riverside Young Writers: A Month of Poetry

Ash
Freedom
Taint
Gravel
Chill
Slumber
Burden

I wrote these for Poetry Month, and I think they turned out well.