Cobwebs In Your Face

2002-06-21T09:08:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

The mortals do not understand her; do not understand why she is so strange and mysterious and mature; why she is so different and seems to have two personalities; why she is different from everyone else; why she does not want their help. They don't know how hard it is on her to hold her head up high with such dignity the ignorant and hateful would call her arrogant. And she, she does not understand why I exist in her; why her? Why my presence is ever with her. She doesn't understand whether her actions are her own or caused by me. She doesn't understand why people hate her, and most of all, she doesn't understand why she even exists if I make her do the things she does. Cobwebs, Cobwebs, save her now! She must be taken to the cobwebs.

They are listening.

2002-06-21T09:06:00.000-05:00

2002-06-10T23:14:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

I am lost; no longer sure what everything is...my eyes are blurred, with tears, perhaps? And I am lost; lost in the mirky, inky blackness of the lake; lost in her green eyes with a fiery amber ring around that ebony pupil; lost in those clouds swirling so thick I cannot see where I am. I am One with the Darkness, One with Light; from my perch I will take flight; I'll break the chains that bind me and I'll hope that someone finds me when I fall. The girl is being pulled, and she aches, and I ache to end her pain...I must find the Cobwebs; I must go to the cobwebs...

Please, catch my arms when I reach for help...

Few people know the pain this relationship has caused me; my relationship with this girl; being bound within her body, steadying the flow of dark and light...always dark and light; why can't it be anything else? Is this what it comes down to in the end? Evil and good?

'But what is evil to good is good to evil,' says Fate, and in that statement there is a logic unmatched, and the question is left: What is evil; what is good?

I long to see the dewfalls one more time, to be deaf and blind to the disaster and cruelty, to watch the lake lighten and the Cobwebs be revived, but I know that this is not possible. A twisted smile appears on Fate's lips, and she laughs, and laughs, and laughs...'What you believe will be made so, but it must be stronger than all other beliefs. You have much to learn, girl,' Fate sighs, and then is gone, leaving me to my blissful yet torturing loneliness.

So what do I desire?

--Lost

2002-06-03T09:28:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

A fallen angel...such a cliche phrase, yet that is what I am. Belonging not in Hell, but not quite fit for Heaven, I am a fallen angel, reborn in a body of a lost little girl. Wise in her own ways, though she has lived only for a dozen years. She is pulled always in one direction or the other -- light or shadow, black or white? Yet there is no pure black; no pure white. For that reason, there are many shades of gray in the spectrum, and where is the girl? She is in the middle, pulled always by an equal force in one way or the other, walking on the line in the middle of the road, never hit by oncoming cars, but always threatened. And I, in her body, know what she feels -- I feel the brush, the breath, of air when the cars swerve too close; I feel the evil, always the evil! in the world. She and I, we are the world's outlets; we are the ones who truly understand the world and its people.

This is why I am chained.

'And yet,' asks Fate, 'what is evil? If the Light is always pulling you, trying to put you in one place, isn't that evil? What is dark, and what is light? With one comes the other, you know. Without light there shall be no darkness, yet without darkness there shall be no light. One causes the other. Light wants you to destroy the Dark; the Dark wants you to destroy the Light. So,' muses Fate...'what is evil?'

--Torn, still tearing, savior...savior?

2002-05-17T20:09:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

The world does not understand me, and as the storm surrounds me, the beautiful melody of a mournful elegy fills the air, unbidden, with something unrisen, something so much like a fleeting ghost. The storm grows stronger as my pain grows greater, the falling seems forever as my screams are heard throughout the universe. Why was I treated so badly, yet it was not outright bad? I am abused on the inside, and I unknowingly brought upon me my own death....

The edge of the pool draws nearer, as the raindrops hit my face, why was I sent to this evil, evil place? A creature of no substance, my life means next to nothing...was I meant to be here? Was this a time past?..and the dewfalls, the last of them, gone, gone forever. With my death, they too are forever dead.

Pain wracks my body once again in spasms, in short bursts, and reality catches up with me again. A beautiful yellow...yellow, all I see, everywhere, yet am I seeing?...and then a sensation of floating away, all pain gone, and I just am.

Then another one of the raindrops hits my face, and I am gone from the sky...a weeping immortal.

--Unwanted

2002-05-05T19:28:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

The clouds swirl beneath my feet, and the wind gently kisses my cheek, brushing away the tears. They fall down, through the clouds, mingling with the rain, and hit the upturned face of an Earth-bound angel, and as the hourglass turns and stalls for one last time, a bolt of white-hot lightning hits my body, and all I know is pain. Falling, falling, through those dark clouds...all I know is pain. And a black pawn on the giant chessboard is knocked away....

2002-04-20T14:56:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

Are you listening, when the final breath leaves the body? Are you looking, as the evil escapes? Are you tasting, smelling, feeling, as I pour my heart into words? The cobwebs, the dreams, the dewdrops, the delicious wonders, tempting me always to throw myself to the deep chasm...to the cobwebs. My heart breaks and shatters, were you listening? And the dewdrop falls from the closing petals, as my purpose is lost...

But eventually, all things are found.

To the cobwebs,
are you listening?

Fate is a cruel thing. It is a long and slender hand, reaching randomly into a box and mercilessly pulling out its next victim. My chains are heavy. Fate has put these chains upon me, and where I go, Fate decides. I struggle to walk along the shore of the pool, constantly losing my balance and stumbling. And as another tear falls into the pool, the hourglass turns....

My eyes are wet, and I wonder, in my wild state, whether it is all worth it...worth the world. I wonder whether I am so different...and I reach out to the cobwebs.

Save me.

--Chained and weeping...savior, savior.

2002-04-19T20:40:00.000-05:00

To the Cobwebs--

Are you listening? A motheaten chair sits in the corner, and presently I wonder, just why it sits in such disrepair. Neglected, it sits, worn and dusty, frayed at the edges and getting blurier...was love meant to end up like this? A soft recliner, gentle, relaxing, but in time, if there is such a thing, it will be thrown out...is this the fate of mankind? And my dying words rasp from my throat...tell me, cobwebs...

were you listening?

Our paths will someday cross, my love,
Where and when, I do not know,
Intentional or not, beyond me,
And you, your words blind me.

--Yearning....

2002-03-23T11:36:00.000-06:00

To the Cobwebs--

Are you listening? The echoes reach my ears, and I know that you are the cause of the screams. Broken hearts and insanity, you are the corrupter and corrupted, but I know that while some scream, others shout, your waves of bliss lapping at their toes. You are the giver, you are the taker, you are everything...cobwebs fill my mind, cobwebs cloud my heart, but you are the cobwebs...so why must I be afraid? With another turn of the hourglass, all will be explained, but only to those pure of heart, only to those corrupted...

To the cobwebs...are you listening?

The shards pierce my heart, but somehow, they do not hurt, I do not notice. I am not yet hurt; I am not yet corrupted, but sometime, I will be. A rage unlike any other will corrupt me, and then my tears, breaking the dam, will follow. My mind is not the most reasonable, and at the core, insanity reigns. I am an empty shell.

I wasn't always empty. The world's cruelty unveiled itself to me, and I am now a cynic. Yes, the world is motivated by selfishness, and I can be a cruel girl. A hypocrite? No. I am simply human, with a mind unlike any other that can see right through you. And the flower's petals unfold.

Is it deep, this pool of poetry? Yes. It is deep, for it is a philosopher's pool, where one thing is another, and the delicate shards are easily broken; the people are hurt, and I...I am a tool. Those reading this know not what I am talking about, and could not easily guess my age. The pool, and the poetry, can be interpretted in many different way, the most common being false and truth. Or lies, even.

But the cobwebs know, and I grow frustrated, wishing to unveil myself and my knowledge, but I am a tool, and thus, I am chained. The world cannot understand me.

Please...listen.

--A tool, a beggar, a writer

2002-03-17T08:53:00.000-06:00

To the Cobwebs--

Are you listening? As another drop of dew falls, the moon shines no longer, but as of yet, the sun is not seen, nor has the smell of coffee filled the air. Enveloped by these sheets of freedom, my family sleeps, but it is I who connects with the reality that is the wired web, filled with cobwebs....

To the cobwebs...are you listening?

The clock at the bottom of my computer screen reads 8:10 AM and with clouds filling the morning sky; the sun has indeed not risen yet. I wish the sweet scent of that wonderful caffeinated drink filled the air, but it doesn't, and as I'm too lazy to get up and make it, the scent of coffee will not fill the air for a few more turns of the hourglass. The are but so many turns of the hourglass left in your lifetime, and these few are being spent with you.

Do you know me? Perhaps. Perhaps you saw me yesterday at McDonald's, or perhaps you know me from the cobwebs. Have you met me on the street? Or are you my next-door neighbor? I know you. I know you but a little, but I know you. I know you surf around on Blogger regularly, and I know that you most likely won't sign my comments or e-mail me. But I know that you are reading this, slim though that possibility may be. Are you entranced by me or are you disgusted? Because as the hourglass prepares to turn once more, that is one of many things I do not know.

And as the dewdrop speeds toward the ground, I know that you won't catch it.

Then it breaks; it shatters; and I am broken into a million pieces. You hurt me, and as the pearl of crimson blood falls from the windowsill, I still bleed. The dewdrops are my dreams; my pain; my memories; my agonies; my sorrow; and you hurt me.

...

Why will you hurt me?

--Dewfalls, dewdrops, a wistful dreamer to be hurt

2002-03-16T20:07:00.000-06:00

To the Cobwebs--

Are you listening? I can hear you as the hourglass turns once more; the eternal timekeeper taking away one more precious moment. A moment; so short, yet so, so long, stretching across time, all the way to the cobwebs.

Are you listening?

So here you are, surveying the morning dewdrops resting like diamonds on my every dream and hope. Do you have a dream? I do. You can't live without a dream or two. My dream, you ask, as a single drop of dew falls? Dewfalls...yes, I have a dream. Will you ever have one, as the delicate grains of sand in the hourglass drop like a pebble to the water, making ripples? Are you a ripple?

I am.

I want to fly, without the aid of technology. I want to be free, oh how I wish I could soar, the wind wipping at my clothing, chilling my skin, but lifting me away...away....

Dewfalls....

--A free spirit; a dreamer