Grow Back The Sun

I opened my eyes and darkness closed them

I opened my soul and my soul was dim

Who turned off the lights?

I've drowned in the screams and blood of fights

And my heart rode on the back

Of butterflies ten thousand and black

Until off their backs it went on falling

In the sound of a fate that has been calling

What do you see that I can not see?

How can the fall ever set me free?

I believe, Dear god, I do believe

That faith can only truth conceive

Because I believe, so I do perceive

That my love will only love receive

I will allow the fall to carry me deeper

To find my own heart, and finder's keeper

And once I do, like a shooting arrow

I'll shoot it high in twisted paths and narrow

From the oceans of dark water and debris

It will burst into the sky, strong and free

And be it dark or hollow up in the sky

My passion will keep it running high

Up in space, who turned on the lights?

My soul floats around me wide and bright

I saw you loading your gun cold as stone

I saw you shooting my heart off its throne

But the star you shot from your violent gun

Has finally helped me grow back the sun

Go forth, my phoenix, the legacy has just begun

Now watch me grow back ten thousand suns.

I Loved a Poet

Where is death when you need it?

Where does it hide from our nightly cries?

He spares our necks when we prey his sword is fit,

And when we reach for sunshine, the sun itself dies,

He sat to his wooden old desk in light so dim,

He picked up his pen and rested his tensed chin

His elbow resting on spots of ink that turned grim,

Night is carving into the metal of his mind,

And paleness of his skin.

He gazed outward to the world and inside

Into his own land of robot-shaped dreams

And in his eagle heart, even in a desert's tide

He's quick to fly, and rare to return,

He'd be mad to ever return willingly to screams.

He watched a distant imaginary fire burn,

And with it his soul caught the light,

A true poet his soul can be when forced to yearn,

And like every other poet it's never clear,

Until a pen ignites the letters strong and bright.

So he kisses his pen and rolls his tear,

He waves his heart and catches every sign

Of life, strolling thought, stray dream, raging fear,

And it pulls him from ocean to sky to land ever so silently,

He writes a line following it down by another line.

They flow down his throat until he's drunk, an army violently

Reaches for a piece of his racing mind,

And he strangles it by the ink defacing white naturally,

It holds his soul up, above, higher,

So he can never see what he's left behind.

He always wins the race and the soldiers retire,

His chin relaxes and his pen relaxes,

And the paper will forever endure his poetry's fire,

The trees outside his window howl one last time,

And then they too succumb to his axes.

So he seals the end of his victorious rhyme,

On the envelope he writes a name,

And though to actually open it would be sublime,

The name on the envelope was never mine,

And if it were, nothing would ever be the same.

Where is death when you need it?

Where does it hide from our nightly cries?

I loved a poet but whatever his hands writ,

Was everyone else's, it never once my love implies.

Black

The Painting: Gustav Klimt- Love

In the midst of night, I found

My chains all split in half on the ground,

Who took away my shackle's sound?

Who had finally found the key,

To break them off and set me free?

Where could my dearest captor be?

Black, the world misunderstands you still,

Thou, the happiest color of their will,

Black, your power has made the world ill.

And I looked upon your soul that night,

And I saw your beauty deep and bright,

It held me years and years out of sight,

Your chains grew on me and inside,

They circled my heart and crossed my mind

What do I do when they all unbind?

Black, as concrete as they think you are,

Thou are a mystery to me as a star-

Black, as a black hole in a universe afar,

I can stay in my cave forever instead,

Nothing was ever wrong with my stone bed,

I'll wait here for my owner's wine and bread

My master has not come back yet,

The nights have gone through me cold and wet,

Years I've waited since we've last met,

Black, with all your hollowness and our fear,

Thou are the monster rising loud and clear

Black, will you spare us your sharpened spear?

And took off, I have, into the depth of you,

Out from the Labyrinth ruled by you,

And I conquered the lands destroyed by you.

You saw me, I know you did many a time,

I saw you in my house of mirrors and my rhyme,

Often enough I heard our voices chime.

Black, the home of all the homeless,

Thou are the darkness to cure the faithless,

Black, son of a song unbound and boneless.

My chains are gone, my master is gone,

My faith is barely alive in my backbone,

My lips are trembling with names of stone,

And the valley is deep and narrow and long,

And my mind keeps wondering if my feet are wrong,

And my love, Ah! The love beating painful and strong.

Black, the funeral of all things,

Thou, the origin of all beings,

Black,you are the victor on all kings.

I, the queen of the underworld, of caves,

Pass by every moonlit spring, all are graves

For dreams, and screams and pleasure in waves.

I pass by the mud where all the memories leech,

And take them onward wherever my foot will reach,

forwards and backwards and forwards, each gives each.

Black, every other color in you is slew

Thou are the end and the beginning of every hue,

Black, how they all reflect so strong in you.

You tried to kill a fire before, the fire still fought,

It took on every bout of ice you brought,

And lurked in every dream, fear and thought.

Until you learned to embrace my wildest fire,

And it became a power to which you aspire,

Freedom, O master black, is more than just a desire.

Black, who really knows your heart?

An enchained master? Or a slave's depart?

Black, thou are the muse lost in time's art.

Black, the beating core of hope and promise,

Thou are the teacher on the path of freedom's bliss,

Black, guide me into my new owner's abyss.