Archive for January, 2011

Inside the Corners of a Dream

Posted in For the Dreamer with tags , , , , on January 24, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

Beauty hides in corners that man refuses to share
Each thought, each driven enchantment
Buried in the fog and gloom of a chosen rejection
Not willing to look inside the mirrored soul of eternity
And yet our eyes are not so blind
Nor our hearts so callous
That we could not embrace the unembraceable
And hold high that single, flowering teardrop
Which flows, obscure, through our darkest dreams
Of a distant reality

Freedom_Is_A_Long_Way_Away by Arielle Carroll

Those dreams are like stars,
Fallen far from my hand
And yet still I reach upward
As they continue to shine
Rays like rivers, pouring wishes into my soul
Giving courage to climb higher still
Inside my mind
Inside a heart which beats faster
Until scarce I could fathom how high I have come
To touch my frozen heaven, deep within the night

Will you touch the stars with me?
Will you dare to drink heaven
And beckon the raging river which flows faster with every wish?
This mysterious beauty which lingers in the mist
Daring not to speak outside the shadows
Haunting with its melody unsung
Will you dare to hear the silent whisper of the teardrop I now hold?
In the corners of my soul, I can feel the warmth of my beloved agony
As I drown within her voice, which is now a part of me
All the while, I reach for your hand and ask — will you dream?

A Message in Darkness

Posted in Loss, Remembrance with tags , , , , on January 16, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

“Some people remember; most forget.”

In harrowing darkness spent mourning the end
Sought only in solitude and deliberate proliferation of vengeance
And yet not for you, my dear Abigail
I cannot hate what I cannot blame
For it is life which took you from my arms
And death which shall return you to me
Lost, without hope of consolation
I dread you to forget, if even for a time
My love

Shallow breathing vex my throat in choking sorrow
I wish neither for air nor sleep nor any condolence of grief
For loss is but a memory of restless spirits
Bent on the kill
Slaves for all eternity, to worship their own demise
And mine
For if the angel, Abigail should return
I doubt that I should return to myself
For there are no tears left to shed…neither in joy nor release

Eternal_Slave_of_Fear by Arielle Carroll

Seek me in the the pitch black of a moonless night
Wandering with spirits which shall ever be my companions
I shall not forget thee, my blessed Abigail
For you were my daughter
You were my friend
Out of the bowels of hell, I retrieved you
As would I, my own flesh
To send you on in strength which, for me, fails
As I fall helplessly in want of your child-like kiss

Alone, I will walk as the dead
For I have already joined the spirits long ago
You, my dearest, were one of so few that I have loved
Do not be afraid
Death is but a gentle parting of ways
Perhaps as you grow, you will think back to my tomb
Laden with satin nights of dreary dread
Scattered amid the papers which float endlessly to the unlit furnace
And the picture which sits fading in the chamber’s desk -drawer

“Some people remember–Don’t forget….me…”

Note from the Author: The original title was A Message in Darkness (revision of  – Spoken in a Bottle, Timeless Words). I wrote these two poems in 2006, back to back (one being a revision of the other), but they seem utterly different, as none of the original poem was kept in the revision. I found this fact quite interesting. Hope you enjoy!

Spoken in a Bottle, Timeless Words

Posted in Remembrance with tags , , on January 9, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

The birds have all flown away in the falling blue sky
As an angel sat watching her dream disappear
And even the flowers cried her name
In the soft undergrowth of fountainous tears
Dreft naught, but high in the breeze of her flowing white hair
She dared to dream once more
In the sanctity of all that was her hopes
She wrote her name with blades of grass
Flung to life, and caught by death
Yet it alone remembered her

In the bottle of time, she shone on in darkness
And wrote with her bleeding fingers the joy that was not her own
And wrote her story on the script of her life
Tossed to the waves of resurrection
Caught by hands which caressed her face in love and embrace
For they were the only ones ever to trace the path of her tears
Shed only once, and never again
Adding that last cherished word of remembrance
Forgotten
And never spoken again

The_Summoning by Arielle Carroll

In the days the angel passed away
Moaned her everlasting sorrow one last time
“Remember me when you are old
For you forgot me in your youth
Shed my tears that I wished never to shed
And drink my loving wine
From the bottle whence I spoke my words for you
And left them forever to drift
Like my soul
In all that I had bled from my veins to the page…remember…”

Still this day I wonder where she left to
Had the sky known her voice in those harrowing hours
It would have built her a fortress from the rubble
For once she flew high as the birds
In solitude, grace, and beautiful raven wings
Yet still I see those feathers,
Trailing her path to the sea
Drowning, heart-heavy at the bottom of my soul
Returning her thoughts to me in a bottle, floating free
Opening lost treasures with tears shed like words… “Remember me…”

Note from the Author:This is the first part of a two-poem series. Be sure to stop by next week to read the second poem and find out what is so interesting about these two poems.  🙂

For the Wounds…

Posted in Perseverance with tags , , on January 4, 2011 by mistressofpoetry

This is for the wounds that will never heal
This is for a time that will never change
And I a pitiless fool who refused to back down from a dream
This is why it scars
This is why it burns my soul
And this
My punishment for belief
In love

Strike me down in a furrow of flames
For what would sting worse?
Thy treachery or my rope-torn flesh?
Hinder me not from my plight
For it is better to die young than to empty myself of all tears

Closed_Eye_Visuals by Arielle Carroll

The ocean is as dry as the sun-scorched earth
For every last drop was poured out for that dream
That unattainable and barren child from the west
Struggling to see the sun rise from behind the curtain of night
A bleary-eyed soldier of misfortune, mistaking the spectre for truth

Why must I hide behind this smile of distrust
Is there even one hand to hold
To take to my dying hour
And caress my face in one final kiss?
Or is even this a fanciful dream of unreality?

This is for the dream that never lived
And for the burden that is never lifted
It is a fool’s resurrection in blinded desire
This is why it tears
And this is why it bleeds
And yet
It is this solitary dream which continues to keep pace
With each breath I refuse to take