Felt like writing a poem. Might delete later.

All through the pandemic I've struggled with writing but something has shifted and now I give you a poem called:

Unknown Horizon

Unknown

    Horizon

Float

    Float

        Float away

Losing time

    Losing sleep

Never want

    To begin

Never want

    To finish

Forever stuck

    Somewhere

        In between

Drift

    Drift

        Drift into space

Lost in thoughts

    And memories

Of what was

    And what I want to be

Hard to grasp

    On the now

Dive in

    Anchor down

Rinse

    And repeat

What time is it?

    Zoning out again

Thoughts flit in

    And what of it?

Am I lost

    Or am I found?

Is this real

    Or all a dream?

And what's

    The difference

        Anyway?

Floating

    Floating

        Floating in a sea

Of stars

    Black symphony

Time slips away

Everything is now

In the eternal wake

Ra’s eye

    Shines down

Blinding me

    Can't see

What's right in 

    Front of me

Desired blindness

Darkness is a comfort

When the light burns

Keep going

Drifting

    Drifting

        Drifting away

Across the sea

Between

    You and me

I remember

    Everything

You forgot

And my heart

    Still breaks

How long

    Until I'm free

How long

    Until I let go

Of the dreams

    That were

For the dreams

    That will be

Time to go

    Time to...

Float away

    From all the pain

Of what we can't 

    Have again

Drift with me

    Into thee

Unknown

    Horizon

Drift with me

    Into thee

Unknown

    Horizon

@melissasainthilaire

12/2/21

Never thought I'd write a poem again. I'm so relieved!

World of Pretend (poem)

We live in a world of pretend

Showing only our best sides

To family and friends

Hiding our scars

Our cracks our pains

Everything is perfect

And we're happy all the time

But it's all far from the truth

Look closely see through the facade

We are not all we pretend to be

But if we tell the truth

If we bare our pains to the world

We're painted as negative

And told to cheer up

Get over it

Move on

But it isn't always so easy

To be happy all the time

When our hearts are breaking

And the world is a mess

And everywhere is death

From my living room floor

To Ferguson or Cleveland or Staten Island

West Africa, Iraq or Syria

So leave me alone

I need to grieve

But that won't stop me

From posting funny cat videos

With tears streaming down my face

Pretending everything is okay

Missing

Whole stretches

Of Time

Pass by

And I’ll forget

For a moment

I’ll smile

I’ll laugh

I’ll play

Then I’ll remember

And the sadness

Washes over

My heart

Aches again

And all I

Can think is

I miss my friend

For Amy

Drama (Poem)

the dreams inside my brain
pound on my temples
trying to get out
to be born
from my head
like Athena from Zeus

every morning a struggle
to bring my conscious self
into this world
my inner me
belonging to an alternate reality
that feels more real
than this

though it is the dream landscape
where there is
no time
no death
no tangible barriers
between souls

there in that place
I have another life
one of constant adventure
conflict and
wondrous sights
I am a spy
being hunted or
escaping a zombie horde
with all my friends or
on an alien planet 
light years from Earth

these adventures
want to be told
the characters
want to be real
in this world
so when my eyes open
they cling to my mind
pushing their way
into daytime thoughts
wanting to breathe
to be alive

and so I write

National Poetry Month: day 30/poem 30

This last poem that I'm posting on the last day of National Poetry Month was written about a year after moving to LA in 1999.


Aerial View

Poetry is the one true word
The air is cool and soft
atypical of
a summer's day
in Southern California
A light mist
falls from
the blanket of clouds
shutting out the sun
I am sitting on my porch
I am soaking in the coolness
A breeze softly caresses
my browning aloe plant
and gently swings
the bird feeder
hanging over my head
but does not disturb
my guest
a rugged looking bird
whose kind I know not
but who's been with me
all day
unafraid
while my cats
closed in by the screen
cannot take their
little slanty eyes off
my new friend
Yesterday's paper
lays in ruins
on the white plastic
Rite Aid chair
across from me
with a half finished
crossword
My feet rest
on an ugly green
Sears cooler
that acts
as a makeshift table
and holds cigarettes,
matches, the cordless phone,
and perspiring iced jasmine tea
To my left is a half
filled Marlboro ashtray
sitting on the stucco wall
of the little porch
I can hear the
building's children
playing in the courtyard
but my view
is only of alleys,
other buildings' backs,
and our fenced-in pool
like some terrible tease
on hot days
The air brings
scents of far off
cookouts
and my mouth salivates
for hot dogs
and burnt hamburgers
(vegetarian, of course)
my mind drifts
back to my childhood
and 4th of July
cookouts at Grandma's
in Worcester, Mass
with games of badmitten
then trekking through the woods
to view the fireworks
at Worcester airport
A helicopter
searching the LA area
brings me back
and
the soothing sounds of Handel
switches to the fast paced
beats of the Dave Brubeck Quartet
I take a drag
on my American Spirit
Light
I see a car zooming
down the road to my left
destination unknown
a flock of pigeons
escape their rain shelter
when the mist
suddenly lets up
But my bird friend remains
seemingly bobbing
to the now cool beats
and ice cream sax
I wonder at the time
My days
home alone
tick by
seamlessly
into nights
metered by
my husband's tired snores
from long days on set
I contemplate my book
finished but still needs
more editing
I ponder my short story
not finished but needs
to be sent in by the end
of next week
for a writing contest
I spy cautiously
on my neighbor
across the way
who steps out onto
her porch briefly
eating rice with chopsticks
out of a colorful bowl
Life in LA is not
what I expected
but nothing
ever is
Life is what you make
of it
and that is why
I'm taking it slow
now
instead of jumping
into the fast paced
game of fame
and fortune
I stare long into
the bright
whiteness
of the sky
and I see
shimmering
moving pools
of nothingness
like electricity
I stretch my legs
and feel the muscles
in my calves
and the joints
in my ankles
and I marvel
on the beauty
the gift of life
and flesh and bone
and how so many women
don't see this beauty
in the mirror
only fat and disgust
We
are
all beautiful
We
are
all wonderful
No matter what
we look like
(Or think we look like)
And I feel
a vague sadness
stirring in my soul
when my mind
conjures up
hazy memories
of the Colorado
school shootings
and I don't want
to dwell too long
but I wonder at
what really went wrong
I recall
feeling alone
isolated and alienated
back in younger days
of school
and teasing boys
and hateful girls
and I remember
how I hated them
how I hated myself
and if it weren't
for him...
for them...
I'm older now
older, but still young
And the world has
so much
hidden beauty
that
I must seek
and I want
to tell
the world
to slow down
to listen
to music
soft and slow
and cool sweet jazz
and I want
to tell the world
to read
to ponder
to recite
to believe
poetry
And I want
to tell the world
to make art
and love
to smell
the sweet scents
of wild flowers
to feel
soft wet grass
between bare toes
or hot grains of sand
between sunscreened
fingers
to taste
salt water
and orange cream
popsicles
to hug
to love
their parents
and children
to relish
laughter and tears
to make every
moment matter
to live
to love
to be honest
and free
to harm no one
not even yourself
to remember the past
and heed the future
but live in the now
to
take
the time
to revel
in
all
these
precious moments
that combined
is a life
that is not
too short
if cherished
well
to love
all others
we are all
the same
equal
to relinquish control
to your heart
to feel the oneness
of all things
to find the poetry
on your own
back porch
and write the words
of your heart
for they are true
they are right
no matter
what anyone else
says
and to teach others
young and old
to do
the same
When you eat a peach
feel the fuzzy soft
taste the juicy sweet
smell the fresh scent
and let the sticky
run down your chin
and over your fingers
with no worries
this is life
savor each moment
savor the earth
savor your life
before it's gone
before you eat
all of your peach
A plane
flies low
and slow
presumably to land
at LAX
I think about the view
toy cars and broccoli trees
like a huge
elaborate
train set
An aerial view
to watch
and protect
Let it be
trust and believe
Peace

National Poetry Month: day 29/poem 29

I wrote this next poem on 1/2/1993 but it could almost be written today.

News Blues

I open my door
Step onto my trash covered floor
Run to my unmade bed
To rest my hung over head
I turn on the TV’s muted news
While the radio plays the blues
I didn't need to hear the newscasters
Only needed to see the pictures
Of a twelve year old’s rape
All on home video tape
As I step into the shower
I feel I have no power
Over what I hear and say
The pain never goes away
Bryant Gumble says with a smile
Don’t you dare touch that dial
More death and violence
God, can we ever have silence?

National Poetry Month: day 28/poem 28

Another college age possibly never-before-seen poem.


Unrequited

The warm blood
of unrequited love
flows through the dry veins
of my melancholy lover

National Poetry Month: day 27/poem 27

This next poem was originally untitled but was then chosen for publication so I think I let the editor title it Hatred but I've since re-titled it to Passion because it's more fitting. (The Outer Fringe, Issue #6 Shrovetide, 1992, Editor: Thomas Pagano)


Passion (A Burning Ember)

In the night
Through the sky
Stars: the only light
The soft grass
And comforting breeze
There is no pain
But a fire burns within

National Poetry Month: day 26/poem 26

Another college era never-before-seen poem, possibly inspired by Ramen.


Noodle

Noodle
White
Thick
Sauce in time to devour
In the deepest hour
Sunny circles christening child
Makes time flow and flower die
Run beyond the wall
Kiss the glistening stone
Fly in the grass
Fill your mind
Butterflies in your hair
Believe in beauty
Though one cannot compare
or judge, or crown
art or love, or music
Sing me spring water
Pull the string
Break the screen
Lie
Live
Leave

National Poetry Month: day 25/poem 25

There was a brief period in my life when I flirted with converting poems to lyrics. This one was written in late summer 2006.

everything

everything everything everything everything
everything
you are
everyone everyone
everyone
and none of that you are
darkness filled with light
lightness filled with air
airness filled with poison
poisonous flag you wave
wave goodbye
goodbye hello
hello hello adieu farewell
farwell to love
and all that dies
farewell to hate
and all that lies
I am not the me that I once was
but I am the me that I forgot
And the mess we are what we all be
the here and now
searching for security
like me like me
I crack my neck
puff down my cigarette
try to think
to not forget
try to write
to capture this
but all that is written cannot create what the mind perceives in early daybreak
and so on
on and so
back to you
to everything
everyone
and all that ever was
I love you

National Poetry Month: day 24/poem 24

This next poem is undated but from the style and content, I'm thinking it's either senior year high school or freshman year college. I think I submitted this one to be published but I don't think it made the cut.


Stained Glass

Stained glass girl
When I look into your eye
I see the pain of being locked inside
Break the glass, let yourself fly free
But aesthetic beauty doesn't allow me
To do what I must do

Stained glass mistress
When the light hits your glass
Let a reflective path
Show me where I should not go
Because I can not bear to follow
The straight and narrow

Stained glass princess
Tell me why do all my castles fall
You know, I've never looked straight
At the snow in the morning
Because of the dangerous,
Burning glare, but

Stained glass woman
I look straight into his eyes
Without caring who sees me stare
My heart reveals the truth
Ignoring the risk of my pursuit
Because I want him

Stained glass mother
Frozen in time
You've seen where I've gone
And know where I’ll go
As you've seen the lives of all women before me
Each decade a step towards equality

Stained glass feminist
You know what will become of us
Through our mistakes and experience
Ruling over our realm like an immortal queen
I need your wise instruction
To avoid my inevitable destruction

Stained glass queen
When I look at you
I see a mirror of my eye
A gentle stare without care
And a cold, deceptive glare
I see myself in you

Stained glass lady
You still haven’t told me what to do
So I’ll shatter your world
Set you free to be mortal
So you can die like me
Never having a chance to relive your past

Stained glass bitch
Make the most of each mistake
Fully relish in any success you make
With this break I’ll enhance my freedom
Like my feet freed from these shackles
You can no longer judge me

Stained glass pieces
Lying on the floor
It’s time I swept you up
Opened my door and be on my own way
To make my own choices
Even if I fail

National Poetry Month: day 23/poem 23

Here's another poem from high school in the same form as Clockwork (last word of each line is first word of following line, etc.).


Walk

Walk through the Trees
Trees blowing in the Breeze
Breeze like cool Water
Water running down your Face
Face of a Stranger
Stranger in a stranger Land
Land of desperate Days
Days drift by Quickly
Quickly through the trees I walk

National Poetry Month: day 22/poem 22

Another mid-college poem dated 7/17/93 from the never-before-seen archives.


Spider

There’s a spider on the windowsill
I said I’d never write a will
But I can’t be still
Your love’s a bitter pill

There’s a pang in my heart
Because with this world I don’t want to part
I don’t know where to start
I’m lost in my art

I’m afraid your love’s a deadly bite
But this fire-love’s blinding my sight
I need you tonight
I don’t want to fight

But I love you just the same
And I know I’ll perish in your flame
Because you know how to play the game
And I can’t remember who’s to blame

National Poetry Month: day 21/poem 21

This next never-before-seen poem was written in 1998 or 1999 post-LA.


Contradiction

Moods wash over me--
Not always
A sea of tranquility--
But sometimes.
Blood pours forth from me--
Not always--
But sometimes,
Every month in days of three.
Dreams:Demons
Fears:Fun
Hopes:Headaches
Listlessness:Love
Passion:Procrastination
Isn't contradiction an absolute?
Absolutely--well--
Not always,
But sometimes.
Rage overwhelms me--
Not always
In forms of productivity,
But sometimes.
Love saves me--
Not always,
But sometimes--
In the form of you.

National Poetry Month: day 20/poem 20

I wrote this next poem in high school during my Anne Rice obsessed years well before vampires were sparkly. A variation of it was published in The Outer Fringe, I think.


Blood of the Vampire

I feel my cold dead blood ache from starvation.
I see the crucifix hanging on the wall.
I can feel my arms stretched beyond their limits;
my wrists nailed down tight, my puppet strings cut, but
I’m still not free.  I try to kick, but these nails
through my feet don’t allow me.  My back aches from
the burden and hard, damp wood rubbing splinters
into my skin.  My skin white from the draining
of my blood.  Burgundy pools forming on the
shadow cross on the ground; wind blowing specks of
dirt in the blood, in my face, in my eyes.  Tears
formed to fight the infection roll down my cheeks,
leaving sticky, itching tracks that I can’t scratch.
I scream out of annoyance, frustration, but
I can’t scream. The wind has dried my throat; my lips
crack and bleed.  I feel my life flowing from my
open wounds, open veins.  I’m drowning in these
waves of death, trying to stay afloat, but find
it’s so much easier to sink.  In my haze
I see an ax; hear a chopping crack whack of
wood splitting, breaking.  I’m falling.  My eyes close
before I fall, I feel nothing; I awake
from a dream of drinking blood, rise and hit my
head on the board above.  A coffin; am I
dead?  My neck aches.  I am thirsty.  I am weak.
I move the cover, let candle light shine in,
reflect on my smooth, white skin, but I don’t feel
like myself anymore.  I know I’ll never
be the same.  Everything’s changed.  I feel hatred,
bitter love.  I am not dreaming anymore.
*     *      *
I know I know I know I know I know
I hear their words echoing in my head;
if I just hang on I’ll be myself soon.
I’ll be happy again if I just try.
I’ll have my own place, I’ll have my own life.
I know I know I know I know I know
But I don’t want to hear their words, no words.
I cover my ears, close my eyes, my mind,
my mouth.  Feel my eyeteeth puncture my lip;
Scream, “I don’t want this fearing mortal life!”
Life to end
End my pain
Pain for sale
Make me immortal
My soul eternal
No morality
Life with no meaning
Meaning with no time
Time for change I need
All I need
All I want
All I dare
is to ask for a never-ending gift,
is to walk this sacred Earth forever,
is to travel the naked Universe,
is to learn infinity’s true essence.
I want to witness the termination
of time, experience life beyond all
limits and obstacles of death, because
there are just so many things, so much stuff
I care about that I don’t want to lose,
that I don’t want lost in an uncaring
mortal time.
I can’t let go,
I can’t close my eyes.
Tears of pain
tearing my face.
All colors blend to
black.
Surrender to the fear.
In the dark twisted forest layered in fog
I see myself, but when I look into the
mirror, I see nothing.  Burn my wick until
I melt away; I can’t give it all away.
Fade into the closed night, mingle with the stars,
marry the moon, but I can’t let go of it.
Rip the precious child from the mother’s arms then
hear her scream.  Now listen to my heart crying.
I can’t sleep tonight.  So alone, I feel like
a pool of water in the Arabian
for no one to feed, no one to nourish, bleed.
The evil sun may explode, the sister moon
may crash to the Earth, but no I can’t let go.
The last unicorn, last of the Mohicans,
the last whale, last tree; I can never let go.
I can’t celebrate what I have without what
I want because I know I will find what I’m
looking for not through the sun drenched path but through
all the milky shadows of a blood stained night.
I hear them call for me; they can’t let go, but
I wont look back, can never go back, never.
I feel the essence of my being ripped, torn
into two distinct sides of opposition,
but my desire follows the fear until
it is gone and you arrive to say good-bye.
Don’t you even dare leave through my broken door
until you pick my pieces up from the floor.
I can’t sleep; I don’t care what happened before
and I can not even go home anymore.
So please sing to me now,
sing,
sing to me;
sing me my life.
Give me words like breath,
rhythm of
inspiration,
beat of truth, not true.
Sing my soul,
sing me my self,
for I have no tune.
Sing to me;
I can not bear
this unlit silence.
I need you,
I need your voice.
Sing to me, kiss me.
Give me the kiss of death
then wake me with your blood
forever.

National Poetry Month: day 19/poem 19

Another never-before-seen college era poem.


Wind

Whichever way the wind blows
The wind only knows
Whichever way my life flows
The river only knows
I just hope that our currents
Will one day meet again
So we can dance and scream
And laugh and sing

National Poetry Month: day 18/poem 18

I think this never-before-seen poem from the archives was written post college, pre-LA.

Red Shooting Stars

I lay awake
and wonder
what death is...
An infinite light
point behind the eye
and above the moon.
I feel like I’m going to fall
I stare out at
a city skyline
within the confines
of my computer screen
yellow buildings
and red shooting star
thousands of little colored
pixels dance as pseudo-stars
in this post-modern
techno trance
so like a shaman
bringing health
through vision
but there is no tribe
and I am alone
So clear
my mind
yet so distant
like an imperfect point
lying on the horizon
past rivers and streams
paths roads
mountains and hills
I see it so clearly
so clear
I fear
it...

National Poetry Month: day 17/poem 17

I'm not sure if this next poem was written during college or afterwards but I'm fairly certain it was inspired by Romeo & Juliet but set in modern day.

Fear

I thought I'd never love
I thought I'd never die
Now I know
Now I believe in the love and the light
and the death in the darkness
My love is dark
My death will lighten
the night sky
like a thousand stars exploding
in my chest

When I look into your eyes
of blue daylight
sunshine
raining tears of violent happiness
driving too fast
weaving traffic
lighting a bowl
and blaring
Led Zeppelin
I see death approaching
masked by love
and
I believe in my narcissistic contradictions
and
I believe your lies
trust
I have to
inspiration
the artist sucks the lover dry
a thousand rebirths
in a thousand lonely nights
wrapped in your arms of security
waiting
for you to hurt me
shatter my shell
until I rain inky words
of love and death
like a stereotype
melancholy poet
You will fulfill my destiny

And you and I
we won't be happy
because we know reality
We lose ourselves in
drugs and alcohol
in sex and pain
And we won't be happy
until we prove our unworthiness of joy
And we won't be happy
together or alone
And we won't be happy
until reality bleeds our fantasies unto earth
from pink clouds and purple sky
dragon's breath and Frodo's ring
We won't be happy until we die
and kiss goodbye
painting love black in the sky

National Poetry Month: day 16/poem 16

One of my many college era, Kerouac inspired poems.


Life is a Movie

Life is a movie
that which we see
through eyes a camera lens
and earth a set
upon which characters
interact

myself a character

the filmmaker
writing myself into
this mise en scen
my reality
my story

this is what’s real

National Poetry Month: day 15/poem 15

Today's poem actually had a date right on it: 11/16/95 (I really wish I had done that all along for every poem, oh well...Anyhoo...) Mid-college from the never-before-seen archives.


Chambers

Beautiful evilness
that shines within
Eyes ablaze
through dusty haze
And I do believe
in
in our chambers of thought
that so eloquently echo
adrift between our
minds entwined
And the blood of the
hurricane burns my hand
so deep red
dripping candle wax
of pain
pleasure and pain
paradoxical love affair
intensity
of
insanity
And did we all die that night
of red
hallucinogen
and ecstasy dreams
dancing circles
upon silver balloons
in the center of the universe
of which we orbit
prophets of the west
shooting stars
to return home
kiss the ground
flying low
falling landing
like birds shot down
carpeting the floor
a bloody mess
And when I woke up
And when I woke up
And when I woke up
When will I wake up
When I woke up
Death...