Biography of A.J. McKinley
I find poetry to be a complete reflection of self and should be experienced through a totally biased point of view. It can be said that I am selfish in my poetry, in the sense that I write strictly for myself. It is my therapy, my best friend, and sometimes my enemy, but always...it is me. I am influenced by such writers as Faulkner, Spenser, Cummings, Neruda, Frost, and Whitman. I hope to convey a sense of my own urgencies and even a little spirituality. You can find more of me by visiting the following site: http: //www.myspace.com/ladyofmystery75
A.J. McKinley Poems
Dark Moon Rising
The dark moon is rising No silver left to see The crone has awakened Her power flows in me
Through rainbow tears I see love's true colors Shining bright amongst them above all others... Red, Green, Yellow, violet and blue... All these beautiful colors I now see in you.
I Remember You
I remember you as a dream A poignant painting of love Whispering echoes of truth
The Red Door
Closeted I stare at this red door. Ajar, but as open to me as a vault. My nightmare is my salvation. Silence now awakening, keeping me distraught.
Purple suns and glyphs obscure In a dream we met Swirling, enticing, esoteric I'm blue Yearning for conscience
The Sin Within
Oppression, repression, obsession Where I find myself within Intention, attention, retention
Shimmering orb of mystic light Flowing energy into me My earthly spirit to take flight Earth, wind, flame and sea.
You Don'T See Me
You don't know me Alone I break Falling from my heartache From the choices I have made
Nothing Is Me
The silence within dares to dream. My beauty is spent. Nothing is me. I grasp at nothing to find my hands full.
My Gilded Cage
Masked within this human shell Burning in my personal hell Awake again but blind inside
I am the unknown I am that which you seek I am chaos torn I am never weak
The flame dances with my soul and my song is rekindled. Surrealistic moments tick by in a broken reel. Flicker and the wind wisps through my fingers. Innocuous thoughts replaced with glorious desire.
I wear a cloud of loneliness A haze in which I bleed A color of midnight azure Created from senseless need
She has broken wings. Her pain is vain. The child hurts. The woman sings.
Butterfly moon of a flightless dawn.
Marching softly with a rhythm gone.
Angels coming in a darkened morn.
Demons ascending in a vertical form.
Found again from a wanton wish.
Lost eternity in a broken kiss.
Seas of destruction branding my mind.
Pounding relentlessly as the clock unwinds.
The way and beyond from a fluttered wing.