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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
priceless salt and
soiling hardened desert sand

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