And because I thought it was over,
I burned everything with the setting sun.
I watched the flames lick the letters,
finding them tasty enough to feed on.
Singed edges start to appear,
as the fire crackles merrily on,
and I just watched and watched
wishing that I was being consumed as well.
I have no doubts that this is where we’ll end,
just like paper fed to the flames,
burning brightly, giving off heat,
then slowly dying,
until we’re all but graying ashes
carried away by the wind.

-The Elusive Scribe 081313-


If I could chase those shadows that flit and float
behind those dark brooding eyes of yours,
I will capture them and disperse them into the light
to banish the hidden pains and hurts that I saw
as I gaze upon the naked truth I read from your eyes.

If I could take away the doubts and fears that fill your heart,
I will gladly rip them from their tenacious hold
then mend the scars they leave behind.
With caring and loving hands I bear
until the bleeding stops and you’re ready to heal.

If I could remove the sadness that you bear on stooped shoulders,
I will cast them aside so you can look up with a smile.
For I know the burdens you carry are heavy,
but need I remind you that you’re never alone
no matter how you push me aside?

-The Elusive Scribe 062613-


The Murmurs


In the dead of the night I hear,
whispers made by the shadows near.
I can catch phrases in between the din,
piecing them together feels like a sin.

The language of the shadows may not be for mere
mortal’s ears,
but I can catch their murmurs with my blossoming
Even while I’m hidden under my blanket shivering,
the cacophony of the sounds they make is still echoing,
against the stillness of the night that moves ever so
leaving me with the mutterings of the shadows that
appear so ghostly.

I try to close my eyes and pretend to sleep,
but the shadows know how to make me weep.
With their silent presence that bores down on me,
I feel like my eyes will no longer be able to see,
the light of day I always welcome with glee.

But wait, the strength of their murmurs is starting to
like the distant stars that are becoming unmade.
Their echoes are starting to dwindle in my head,
or maybe because my soul they took from me and now
I’m dead.

-The Elusive Scribe 050313-


The Doll



The Doll

creepy doll sitting by the ledge,
dirt encrusted face can’t hide
its blue eyed stare that knows,
all the people’s secrets that they tell,
as they pass by never knowing,
that there’s a doll listening to their stories
with that wide open stare.

I found this doll sitting on the ledge of a gated vacant lot. I had the feeling that I was somehow being watched. So, I took a picture of it and decided to make a poem just for the sheer joy of it.

-The Elusive Scribe 032713-


She Was


She was the woman I was once,
hiding behind several masks.
Afraid to let people in,
fearing they might not like
what their eyes could see.

She was the other side of me,
the darkness that clings to my light.
Can’t stand to be abandoned,
yet kept on receding back to the shadows.

She was the voice inside my head,
whispering incessantly in my every waking day.
The halls of my imagination she claims for her own,
where she creates monsters even from dust motes.

She was me in every sense of the word,
and now we are one for I’ve mastered my fear.
She and I are whole once more,
ready to face tomorrow stronger than before.


-The Elusive Scribe 042713-


Tangled Lines


How to unravel these tangled lines
of words in a jumbled mind?
To bring order to an already chaotic world
filled with monsters and heroes
and abandoned caves and decaying palaces?

How to unravel thoughts wound up tight,
stuck in a crowded room of daydreams,?
To separate the myths from the truths,
and bring out a story that will amuse?


-The Elusive Scribe 041213-


Waiting in Silence


Waiting for a bit of sunshine
to break the dark clouds hovering,
over a mind imbued in silence
while waiting in vain.

Waiting for a bit of life
to course through these cold days,
melting ice and frost
to reveal a verdant valley.

Waiting for a bit of love
to fill this empty seat,
while watching what’s left of the night,
for a more glorious morning.


-The Elusive Scribe 040913-