grace mariner Poems

She is a perfect peach.
Soft and round, her rotting inside only revealed in
her self destruction.
Our crutches turn against us, defiling our best efforts
...

Your ghost haunts my halls in visions of parking lots
and diners and low budget hotels.
You had to vanish and so you did, leaving behind
these corpses in their wake.
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Messages come to me from universal energy.
We speak in words only the other can hear.
I call forth what I need and a sign is delivered.
A No Caller ID message sent when I need strength.
...

Oh those demons we befriend!
The monsters we create of each other and ourselves
with our atrocities!
If we think on it too long, we will drown in the sorrow of it.
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There is a story, a tale unspoken.
It whispers of magick, some of the supernatural,
others of smoke and mirrors.
It is terrifyingly beautiful,
...

There is an emptiness here.
A void the crests and wanes like my breathing,
mocked by the beat of an unholy heart.
LB says you realize when they go, the world remains,
...

An object in motion remains in motion,
or so I've been told.
Energy, swift and racing like a lovers beating heart,
moving from here to there.
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I will not fit in your box.
I am to round, too squishy,
with too many sharp edges.
My colors cannot be contained in your darkness.
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I will not fit in your box.
I am too round, too squishy,
with too many sharp edges.
My colors cannot be contained in your darkness.
...

Happiness is over rated.
It only makes sadness cut that much deeper.
Forever is just a moment in time,
it has no real place in real life.
...