"Darkness" Possible Book snippit :o

There's a Darkness that exists in all humans. Not in the way that dark follows day, not necessarily the extensive black and white belief of good versus evil. It's something a bit more in the gray areas, somewhere in the expansive between that could stretch forever between argued morals and values. It's the thing that makes the same ones who rage verbally against the injustices of the world curl up with a book about dark possession and sensual sacrifice. The thing that calls out to the curiosity of the unknown, and not simply the stigma attached to them. Vampires, Zombies, Werewolves, strong powerful men, impossibly brave women, Superheros – the greatest dream of our twisted natures. No hero is simply born to what he becomes, circumstance and life and tragedy always fixes him. Vampire's are people that defy death while spreading little slices of it. The Paranormal, our imaginations belief that we are genuinely immortal as the passing days and nights, twisting and calling us into it's darker Depths.

Though the Darkness is not entirely evil, either. The term 'Darkness', always brings into mind the impossibly tongue-in-cheek term for something twisted, unwanted, uncouth. It's that parallel, that taffy term that draws in the right frame of mind to form and follow the suggested line of thought. Along and following these thoughts to subjects like Love- most would say the coin follows to Obsession along it's backward facing sister. The truth though rarely do humans particularly understand that their strongest ideal's of 'Love' border on possessive obsession. The greatest love songs, the sweetest of tragic love stories that capture their imagination and make them crave for that elusive emotional attachment. Think of it now, go and follow your thought to the kind of things you crave, and be honest. The deepest, darkest desires that swirl around in the back of your brain, threatening to come close to the light of understanding and illusion.

What if those were offered to you, brought to you with a single stipulation of a glistening gem and platinum collar? No other strings beyond the attachment of the object like some long lost necklace around your very neck? Some love the idea, some of you balk at it with a sniff of derision. The truth though is if it's physical or metaphysical it exists. The old metaphor of ball and chain, these desires and wishes would bring you and bind you to the same thing you said you could not understand. They flirt and tease your so called moral objective and code, the values that you've been beaten and cohered into following like some mindless herd mind to the buzzing noise in the bright lit sky. The desires regardless of logic will swirl, hound, and shark at that crumbing isle of 'Maybe' that exists in your own head, they will continuously test the limitations of 'no' and bring you to your knees in the end. So imagine if you would, that moment of pure genuine terror and fear, that paralyzing moment you realized that no matter your strengths or weaknesses there was no way to fight back, no way to break free, and you were simply at whim of circumstance that had captured you so.

That, that moment. That is your true “Darkness”, your secret dirty desire, locked away. To know, for just a few moments, a few seconds of each day, that ideals like responsibility where lifted from your hands and placed simply into the other; if it's physical or idealistic. It is neither black nor white, neither right nor wrong. No, it is not Faith, not touching on the idealistic or path that lead you to that, this is simply reasoning to understand that Darkness, what it means, internally, mentally, chemically. This is what I mean when I suggest that 'Darkness' exists in all humans, this thing that regardless of race, sexual creed, skin color, religious background or heritage it is there. It is that Darkness that calls to you, that will be harnessed, corrupted, and used to place that weight around your throat. There is no use fighting, its inevitable.

-SADE

Marchwood

I took a step
To await your breath
Alone forgotten,
Forlorn no more
I drifted down this empty darkness
Into the pit of the beast
To find only that which was never lost
Contained in a single floral appetite
Underneath the radiant rays of the moon

A cast aside sweet little thing
Forever entwined in the tangled web we weave
Such sweet little sultry words that wrap
Your hands around my throat and press down
So no more will I see
The daisy grow
‘neigh the rounding belly, see
Chaos creates destruction
Where love breeds war
So you’ve taken the chance to runaway again

I wonder what would it be
To see behind blinded eyes
To walk through life knowing only darkness
To never see the crashing sea
Touch upon the glistening rock face
Perhaps; to see; the colors
That have glittered within your eyes
And I knew that no matter what life I’ve lived
I’d ne’er see a sight more astounding
Then the silence of your breath

Love is a fickle creature
With a tongue a forked rose
And it will bite to soothe
And take away to heal
Though the memory leaves only a stain
Forget this life, forget your past
Have you not seen this blossoming youth?
So wide eyed – round and wondrous
To laugh with such reckless abandon,
Oh, I remember

Do you regret what you see?
What you found so long ago
Caught in the waves of chaos
To cling to like a raft boat
I know, I know I told you then
That I saw more behind those tattered scars
The wings of what once was so brightly shining
But it took nothing of that which you did not wish to give

Follow me, find me, see me
Truly for you are who only you want to be
Alone, alive, breathless and abandonment
I will not take this scar no more
I will find a wing to soar
For even if I catch ablaze within the light of the sun
Someday too soon I will remember what it is
To walk again, to breathe in the freshness of her silvery lights
And taste sense as it was truly meant to be

For only I can heal me.

Serpentine

I want to crawl in your skin
Maybe then I could get a taste
A sample of who you’re meant to be
Possibly the other side of me
Only this time the curtains drop
And I’m not sure when they ever opened
Standing on stage I feel a naked clown
Oblivious to the sounds of the audience below

We are serpents you and I;
We slither through scales and into bodies
A unique mold of one
From frolic touches to longing
Of the times between
The itch that one can’t scratch
Of a taste in the mouth; at the back of the tongue
From the lips to the cover of the gun

Late night illusions

It was child-like, petulant and angry -- the tiny voice that screamed 'No- it's mine! You can't have it!'

Defiance lined and broken upon a verbal whip that had no room for slack and mercy

Tongue tied, gagged, sweating, forced and cohered into knots
It was insincerity mixed with devotion and guilt; a simple fucking release
Addiction and self reliance upon the battered and abused
Release and knowledge to kneel and worship; ignored
'So it's time' he said, and so I came, dog to heel,
Grasping at nothing until nails were raw and bloody- gasps harried and rushed
Promise a burning ember and a silent slice in the shadow
A misunderstanding of the very breath it gave
The bleeding that ejected the raw and unwanted
The coiling serpent on milk and spared less on flesh
Thrashing veils lifted to stare beholden at the grasping golden goddess
With obsidian gazes and kohl lined souls

This this is... art. 

Poetry in motion;
Laid upon vivid tongues and prying fingers
A new form of Pulchritudinous
New metal wrapped inspiration

Creation- Preview.

Eternity stretches beyond forever in the illusion of dust carried on a warm breeze into a wasteland. They say the beginning is nothingness but it's an inadequate version of the complete access of anything; but, what if, someone were to reach out and say that in fact that was not quite true. That there was everything, but instead of spread it was contained in the tiniest of spaces, moving like angry insects buzzing for freedom without ever understanding the desire to reach out and touch something? It could be said the same of human nature sometimes; that grandeur desire that comes from wanting something more without ever genuinely understanding the why.

Though, like the comparative nature of the human it decided to become something more entirely. Only it didn't gently reach the finger through the void to see what may lay on the other side; it ruptured with the force that had held it down so long ago in a violent cacophony that held no sound or grand explosions of elements. It was it's eerie silence that corrupted it's core- that lead its fingers spiraling out far beyond the reaches it should have gone. The subtlety of presences divided that had been so soon before completely united; an awareness not quite previously mentioned because it was a single voice amongst literal millions and had not before even understood singular thinking? Now that silence was deafening; but more so, it was lonely. The first understanding of desire and craving what it had tried so eagerly to escape from.

A moments decision undoing of an uncountable measure of time before.

Bitterly Yours, Jaded.

Take a second

to glance

over your shoulder;

at the passer by

with a smile;

withering slightly around the edges-

and the dust that stirs in your wake

notice for a moment

captured in seconds

stretched along forever

the way the light hits her eyes

and turns them a subtle shade

before you go back to looking

at nothing in particular.

So just breathe;

When you're flying high

and remember how it feels

to have that breeze on your face

and the ground beneath your feet

because it's okay

sometimes,

you know

to come down for a little while

And remember angel;

the taste of earth

before it devours you

~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~

 I haven't written poetry in a long, long, long, long time. I've tried, of course, many times to pick up where I left of and try to just "Let it Flow" as they say. Well truth be told it's not always so easily. I once read a quote where it said that writer's block simply mean's you're not supposed to write. I took it literally at the time but I wonder now if it's something that just had to take it's time in coming to me. Many of my previous works came from dark places of angst and teenage melodrama hormones. Now, I've got adult melodrama hormones! Though, alas, these may be of some consequential use.

Anyways, Welcome to my Blog. Another out there in this massive web of millions. Here though is something a little more personal- a little more *me* and I'm hoping to share it well with you all. It's a bit of a short post, but as you may read it's 2:31am my time and I am going to be exhausted tomorrow.

Much love,
Niveah Stipes