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Neon Blues Unspoken Tales Of Buried Roses and Feathers Carved In Stone
By: Kathy OstmanMagnusen
18 May 2006
"Buried Roses"
if i had roses to give you
i would have buried them
muted their breath
measured their penitence
stopped the flood of overflowing criticism
the rain continues
I thought it's shoulders were undaunted
horizontal landscapes catch the rhythm
hold gifts
good and bad
none the less given with due remarks of wanting shelter
in the presence of unadorned queens
was it you who never stopped noting thorns
of now quieted roses?
or me who allowed their travel?
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19 May 2006
"Defined By So Few Words"
neon blue continues on
i am neither sad nor happy
i guess i find myself relieved
waiting for tears if i need them
i never realized her poems to be so short
so inconclusive
so undefined
she always seemed so magnificently tormented
ahhh zelda
where are you when i need you?
pointing in the direction of the sky
i expected beyond
but the treasure was in the trees
my eyes gathered them
standing beneath and within
i bend my branches
born with a melancholy
poets charm that pathway
books and paintings
sculptures of flight
rounded off with a drunken stupor
my fingers feel numb
i approach the station to arrive
i have been there and back
i am coated with the very same torment
said with few words
on the pages that you sent to me
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20 May 2006
'Neon's Unspoken Tales'
she said she knew you
i, of course took up her time
quoting our best/ worst moments
yet, only in my head
she never really heard our history
my memories burn still unspoken
be sure to call her everyday, she said
'every' day?
every single day?
just keep it short
that's really all that's needed
how do you fill a bottle too small?
how do you comb the hair of an old dolly
who's locks are now sparse?
how do you find the voices
remembered
take them back
comfort them
instruct them in the art of positive thinking?
my moods are not always my own
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20 May 2006
'Feathers Carved In Stone'
i am not sure how it settles...
the stone past the surface of the water
my words, my appraisal
in a crunch i refer to little boxes
sometimes empty
decorated with ribbons
sometimes filled with feathers carved in stone
i fall back on their sentimental comfort
of who i wish to be
strong, undaunted
graceful despite the climate
just like all the other ladies i admire
yet i sit at the bottom of this pond
i am not sure if it is mirky or clear
if my visions make sense to me at this moment
it may just be lie
i must hold the flag of my own destiny
fold up notes that overtake my heart
but then
i think i might miss them
i feel afraid that if i stand tall
i will find i do not exist
pieces of my flight
though they be stone
brought me here thus far
i would be leaving the little girl
with paper dolls
alone and still afraid
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25 May 2006
"A Promise and a Gift"
he fled from the mountains
arrived at the sea
leaving
all his gifts behind him
including me
white knights and sacred shells
reach out past sad
beyond
the sand a token
within this map
you came...so i left
you didn't notice
pretending
i never really cared
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14 july 2006
"I Stroke Her Hair"
i stroke her hair
i mend her
again
despite her wild objections
defined by lines that did not match
she held herself closely
did not entertain streaks of light
river crossings
paths that led to lime green
i walk past her sigh and find it to be my own
buckle down you stupid girl!
consequences of moons that go unlocked
bring hues that grey up possibility
i shook her
i made her bleed
who did she think i was?
her eyes looked up
she asked for mercy
the kind that only i could give her
many a tormented heart is born out of passion
i stroked her hair
i gave her the box unopened
with all the gifts inside
because i was the only one who could
and the only one there
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