Zoe Guillory Poems

Ans so we lay there, under the dark sky, waiting
for the Sun to wake up the world. We were drifting
apart, but we still held hands and I watched the stars die
as you watched the Sun being born. And no one spoke.
...

Murky water like the thick inky blackness of a night
without stars. Without Hope. Silence pushing down.
So heavy the branches of the trees his the ground.
The leaves rotted while still green. Holding on.
...

Like tiny broken birds. Broken wings, broken hearts.
Trapped under the fallen leaves of Autumn. Cold air.
Like the dawn sky on the first morning of the new Spring.
Soft and pink. Loving, gentle. Unmistakably innocent.
...

For we have all become intruders in this place we call home.
Once a timeless Eden, a trashpile of war and lust.
Fresh waters and endless forest have all been thrown.
Thrown up in the air, only to fall. Dead leaves.
...

I sat alone, watching the children
pass by holding hands
with their parents and pointing
eagerly at the tiger.
...

She turned and drew a smiley face
in the corner of my paper. She wrote
it upside-down. It smiled up at me.
I erased it.
...

I was struck blind.
Trapped in a vat of pure black ink.
No sun. No moon. No stars.
And all I could hear was the sound
...

The leaves faded to orange.
Dappled light at sunset; a spiritual balance.
The fire of Death as is licks up the green.
Faded to orange and fell like hanged men.
...

Water stretched out before me. A lake of crystals, filled
with overlapping rocks along the bottom. A few jutted out.
One could only guess what lay beneath them, but I did not worry
about what was below me. I did not worry about the Unknown,
...

If I had a paintbrush, I'd paint my world orange.
Orange for the Destruction and Purity of Fire;
For the Power of the Sun;
For the Patience and Innocence of a Child;
...