Stars

What if-
like pin pricks through cloth,

stars act

as windows on walls,
passing visions

of heaven, 

through black

to earth.

A brief poetic thought about the roles of stars in the solar system. Inspired partly by Sylvia Plath's observational style of poetry and partially by the Les Mis song Stars as performed in the 2012 film rendition. 

The moon cried out
Through the rain today
Glowing softly through her tears
She confessed her sins
And deepest fears

Origami Swans

Eyes wander over grazed, stained arms
skin thin as canvas
stretching over bone
framing a piece of art so frail
its pigment begins to fade,
paint cracks feather over
every detail
as blurring narratives
fade into
sunlit backdrops

Cut fingers
and pin pricked minds
trace over
origami thought
wrapping lace bandages
over nics
and accidental incisions
sewing stories onto
paper
in bespattered paint

The room swarmed with paper swans
as the floor turned to red

Floral Decay

A room full of floral decay
That bittersweet smell of mixed perfumes
Lingers, and the waft of stale summer air
Waltzes down the aisle
That awkward time stuck between
A blistering summers day
And the ice frosted night
A note to congratulate the bride
And the groom
That couple that wont even last the night
Divorces are expensive I think
As the pen hits the paper

As part of a task I was given a random: object, setting and time of day. I got: a wedding in a church, a letter and the afternoon. I really don't know how this managed to take such a depressing (yet comical) turn as I was planning on something rather romantic.

I pray the flowers teach me how to blossom,
To open my mind with the morning dew,
Keep firm roots and let the path of the wind guide me