Poetry By
Alexandra Seidel
Published on: 2/9/2011
The Tiger in My House
There is a tiger in my bedroom. At first, when it moved in, it was a baby tiger clumsy-cute paws like saucers orange and black stripes still fluffy and eyes so big and golden that I hardly believed they were real But my tiger is real and it did grow up into a huge and majestic creature that rules my pillows and makes me sleep on the floor tears the lace embroidery off my blankets and shreds my sheets The tiger has even taken over my bathroom My bathroom! It spends hours in there, runs a bath and showers uses scented oils and blow-dries its black-orange fur I suspect it used my toothbrush more than just that one time And when my tiger finally emerges from the fog behind my bathroom door it moves to lounge on my couch and watch my TV or listen to my music it picks up my phone and calls my friends and roars at them loud and wild with a green-tinged voice that knows the rainforests. When I checked on the tiger earlier I saw it had put on my black nail polish on its enormous claws that leave marks on my carpet and my coffee table. I think it might have used some mascara too but how can I be sure without looking into its eyes that are the golden shine of the sun setting behind leafy mountaintops? My tiger eats my cereal and my chocolates and soon I know it will steal my car keys and drive my car to my office and sit at my desk. Where would I go? I wonder and think that perhaps there is a place for me that I never thought of before Green leaves Mild rain Earth's scent on the air Bare feet on soft ground leaving footsteps that could almost be a tiger's
Published on: 2/9/2011
The Words Clung To His Lips Like Honey, Like Hemlock
When you kissed starlight to my brow that night in thistle and rue when dreams would convene upon the birdsong that should smother our sleep when you kissed me then I felt like eternity had pressed soft lips to mine Would you not tear both heaven and earth asunder for our love? for just a speck of hope that would see us united? I would but I also see that both heaven and earth would just smile at the attempt, reform themselves, not really be bothered by love; even so, I would For all that doubt, I still chose you and so I ask again; what would you do if oceans rose to keep us apart, if fire threatened to burn hotter than we, if voices clashed to drown us in silence? Think quickly, love, I'll need that answer
Published on: 2/9/2011
Desert Princess
Her ebony skin is dark as ebony skin goes and her eyes are moonless nights lit by a twinkling of stars the robes of a desert princess hug her frame twilight blue, oasis green, saffron gold a veil hides her from the jealous sun and golden bells around her ankles sing to her soft footfall Her birthright is her curse 'The desert makes no princesses,' her grandmother tells her while holding her down so broken glass and dirty razors can cut away her innocence 'The desert makes no princesses, but today you have become a woman,' her grandmother tells her as the rough needle seals her tight damming barely just the blood yet the princess's tears run free like fountains are her eyes, or like springs spouting priceless salt and soiling hardened desert sand
|