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Baka Gothic Kitsune's Journal |
Hey. This is Baka Gothic Kitsune, BGK for short. This will most likely become just a collection of poems and maybe a few entries concerning what's going on in my life. |
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Baka Gothic Kitsune
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Posted: Tue Jan 02, 2007 @ 12:24am
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ABC (another poem)
ABC
Assemble a friendship amidst
Bits and pieces of a broken past,
Carefully chosen and confessed by chance in the
Dark of a night doused in silent tears,
Embracing, despite the ever-present threat that someone might see,
Forgetting that anyone else is there on the floor,
Giving up that grim life of lonely, because
Hands clasped tight can help a lot—
If you let them try.
Just remember how it all started and I’ll remember that I promised to stay.
Know that despite my lapses in truth, it’s a promise I intend to keep. The duality of your new
Life
May make this more difficult than ever we’d imagined, but
Now, at least, we can say our love has been tested,
Once throughout our envious affection, not so
Perfect as it might seem to an outsider.
Quixotic ideas and quiet fears
Raise Hell between us, but
Still we both stand our ground and stay
Together, you and I,
Unyielding and inerasable.
Vindication sometimes seems far off, especially
Wilted by the distance between here and there, nowhere near
Xanadu, closer to Hell, but comforting on occasion.
You love, and I miss, forever
Zealously.
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Posted: Tue Jan 02, 2007 @ 12:19am
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New Year's
Wow, my New Year's Eve sucked. . . I was way lonely, and I couldn't even get drunk (not that I normally do, it just seemed like drinking might have made me feel a bit better last night) 'cause I was at a family party, and there was no liquor. So, w/e. As promised, I'm starting to transfer some of my older poems into this account, and I'll probably put my paintings, drawing etc., here also when and if I ever get around to putting them on my computer. So anywayz, here's another poem. . . TALISMAN
Amazing,
How such simple things
Can hold so much power. . .
Isn’t it?
Little things,
Tiny gifts,
Loved,
By one person alone,
Certainly not for their value in gold.
No.
But for the story
Or the utter lack of a reason behind them.
A toy airplane,
Plastic, nothing more.
Just a bittersweet reminder
That once upon a time,
Someone wanted to make you smile.
A silver ring,
With a simple design.
Nothing special. . .
Except to the person who wears it always
And still remembers
The day it was dropped into their open palm.
“Here. You can have this.
Why? No reason. . .
It’s for you. . .
Just because. . .”
A thin cotton shirt, olive green,
Not particularly becoming,
But a favorite still.
Though the spicy scent of young love
Has long been faded and washed away,
The memory still lingers
Of the day their arms wrapped around you,
And that shirt still keeps you warmer than any other.
Amazing,
How such simple things
Can hold so much power.
Astounding,
How memory
Can transform a mere trifle
Into a priceless talisman. Comments are always welcome.
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Baka Gothic Kitsune
Community Member
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Baka Gothic Kitsune
Community Member
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 @ 09:05pm
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Well, now I'm back on Gaia after about two years of absence. I finally got my own computer. So, anyway, aside from Christmas, my week is pretty much sucking. I have to go to swim practice every morning at 8:30AM even though there's no school. That even included the day after X-mas. Wtf. So anyway, here's my most recent poem, just to get me started. I'll probably post some older ones in the near future, as well as whatever new poems I come up with. This one is called "Holocaust." I step outside,
And take in the silence.
Just gray sky,
And blankets of white,
As far as the eye can see.
Even this dim light is blinding
Compared to the darkness within.
I watch my bare feet
As I stumble forward
Into the drifts.
My tiny footprints are left behind
Like so many fingerprints in the dust.
The snow is still falling. . .
Slowly,
Gracefully,
Softly,
Peacefully,
Silently.
Not even the slightest hint of a breeze,
Disturbs its’ gentle descent.
I open myself to the gray abyss,
Extend my tongue,
And catch a bit in my mouth. . .
But viciously,
My body rejects it.
It’s bitter, metallic.
I hold out my hands
And watch a single speck
As it floats into my open palms.
I wait for it to melt.
Instead, the amount increases,
Gathering in my bony fingers.
I feel no cold.
Perhaps I’ve gone numb?
Maybe, just maybe,
Beneath this frail garment,
Threadbare and torn,
My emaciated remains
Are too weak to stay warm.
Is there any heat left in my thin, ailing frame?
I cough.
The white mound in my hands is blown away,
Like so much dust in the wind,
And for a moment,
The silence is shattered.
The sound reverberates,
Echoing back a hundred fold.
Shaking, I bring my hands to my face.
A fine gray-white residue
Clings to my raw pink skin.
Trembling,
Falling to the ground
In a cloud of it,
I realize the truth with sudden clarity.
Tears carve rivers down my face
And form a pattern,
Like blood spatters on the ground.
How can it be. . .?
The sky is raining ashes. . . All of my poems can be found on my deviantart page, bakagothickitsune.deviantart.com.
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