If you could hear the aliases and polyphonic-words
I have cocooned myself in, you might be surprised
that I haven't spoken them accidentally aloud.
What you thought was a noun is a name.
What you thought was a fictional character is based in reality.
What you thought was a fairy-tale is turning out to be an auto-biography,
even though you and I have taken many precautions against this kind of thing.
*~Plug your ears against raw-emotion words,~*
*~hum to yourself until you've forgotten what you've heard,~*
*~drown them out with your doki-doki drumbeat,~*
*~dance in circles beneath the smiling-mask moon.~*
If you could see the symbolism and metaphors
that I've surround myself with, you might be surprised
that I can take anything I see as it is.
This necklace isn't just a necklace.
This word's definition isn't its meaning.
This feeling can't possibly be what you think it is,
because you've protected yourself so well up until now.
*~Close your eyes when the words become too graphic,~*
*~assail them with false-images until you can't tell the difference,~*
*~conjure up fantasies to block out the hope-pain,~*
*~weave them into your protective dreamcatcher web.~*
If you could taste the bitter lies and spicy truths
that I've swallowed back, you might be surprised
at the sweet-scented emotions on my breath.
I've traded my blue ribbon necklace,
with blown-glass seashell decorations,
for a word that means exactly what it ought.
Because I've never met a perfect metaphor for love.
*~Cover your mouth over too-true fire words,~*
*~rationalize until they are safely meaningless,~*
*~whisper them to the wrong people behind half-raised hands,~*
*~sing them in stories disguised as fairy tales.~*
If you knew how ineffective my devices are
that try and insulate me from you, you mightn't be surprised
that I, as a result, feel the way I do.
My aliases were skilled, but the evil I heard bugled like a herald trumpet.
My symbols were vivid, but the evil I saw shone like the radiant sun.
My lies were potent, but the evil I'm speaking falls on the air like an incantation,
casting a spell on the subjects so they may know the severity of this thing called love.
And how sad, that I am thinking of this wonder of love as "severe" and "evil,"
and how sad that I have erected these illusion-barriers to try and
protect myself from this wonderful, beautiful thing called love.
Scattering my affections so completely that they may not rest upon a single head.
Telling falsities to myself to dilute the feelings in others' words.
Hiding and perverting my own sentiments so that they never reach others' hearts.
How sad that I've never seen the radiant light cast off of this hard, beautiful diamond.
*~Remove your aching fingers from your deprived ears,~*
*~and listen to the raw-emotion words being sung to you.~*
*~Accompany them with your humming and heartbeat drumbeat.~*
*~Lift your guilt-laden eyelids above your star-struck eyes,~*
*~and see the beautiful graphic words being painted for you.~*
*~Notice they are the "false-images" and "fantasies" of your childhood.~*
*~Unclench your trembling lips over your watering mouth,~*
*~and serenade the spicy-sweet words unto those worthy of them~*
*~with a complicated loud-emotion harmony that these feelings deserve.~*
*~And dance with abandon beneath the moon now weeping with joy,~*
*~both of you, untangling together your useless dreamcatcher web~*
*~until the stories you sing are of your own non-fiction fairy-tale,~*
*~and it is inconceivable why you needed your self-defense lies~*
*~in the first place, in this world containing absolutely no evil.~*
Author notes
Okay, this is based on the phrase "hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil." and focuses on the sort of denial that I am particularly fond of, because it increases the difficulty of getting to a relationship and because it means the person secretly loves you. Sigh. All of the "self defense" stuff is true of myself, such as the excessive use of aliases, synonyms, metaphors, symbolism, lies and half-truths. But the rest of the stuff is either made up or delusions, or maybe I'm just saying that. 
In this, though I say I've traded in some metaphors for love, it seems I've created even more. Now including a ribbon, glass, and seashells I have a dreamcatcher, the moon, and diamond. Woot. Have fun with this one. I know it really doesn't have rhyme or flow, or atleast I wasn't considering them in it's creation, but this has become one of my favorites (it stayed on topic through the entire thing! It has a running theme!). But I don't mind criticism either.
Oh! Comment on the title!
Suggestions plx- I mean please =D
Comments
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Lol kudos no digressing for you!
But remember:
Diamonds are beautiful, but they cut the deepest and if you drop them they shatter into a million pieces.
But I'm sure you've long since made that connection
I really like this part;
"If you could taste the bitter lies and spicy truths
that I've swallowed back, you might be surprised
at the sweet-scented emotions on my breath."
though of course I like pretty much all of it.
We have VERY different styles, don't we? I like short lines and I almost always rhyme, and when I write I just spill it out and hope it doesn't suck. But you take your time to get all your words right, and you care more about the meaning and the actual Poetry of it than whether there's the correct number of syllables and the words sound alike. That's something I both hate and love about what you write. And of course, everything you write is so uniquely YOU.
I'd say be proud of what you write, but I know you are lol so I'll say instead that you have much reason to be.
Lol and one more thing; yes, your title is freaking awesome.
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Ahahahha, but your poetry is really good too! And the way YOU write it is obviously YOU as well. Happy Birthday Ellen! Ah! I have to comment on your homepage as well. The part you quoted is also one of my favorites =]. I dunno why but I really want to paint this. The only thing I really don't like about my poetry is it all sounds very... similar. :/ And I have no idea how to NOT make it the same, because it sounds like how I talk. Quite a dilemma. Especially in my dialect. (crap, what's it called when a person talks like how they are from? I randomly forgot the word... uhm... uhm... CRAP! I keep wanting to say sound-effect. AGH! It's right there. Does it start with an 'e'?...I'll get back to this later.) The words I use are all... the same. Recycled. I noticed when I was trying to find a verb I could only think of ones like sing, paint, dance, etc. I mean, compare the verbs in this poem with those of others of mine. If you want to take all that time, which you don't have to because I'll tell you, they're pretty much all the same. Rawr. And about the short lines thing, I can't limit myself! It's difficult, because I'll just think of something that sounds pretty and I'll bee like "ooh! Where can I put that?" or, "how can I fit THAT in to this?" Which is usually why my poems go off topic... *cough cough* "Trance" *cough*. And most of the stuff I write about I have a million words for, and it's so hard NOT writing everything I can about them! Short poetry, in short, is much harder to write than long poetry. And to make it good, I think.
Blah, blah, blah, look how long this post is! I'm such a wind bag. *Shakes head*. I miss you. Hope the roads aren't bad Saturday. Hope we have school Friday, because, and this is how I thought with, uhm, (Do you know who Calvan is? ... no I think not. Uhm... then how about Sensei no Kokoro? Bah, I'll tell you later if you don't.) Sensei no Kokoro as well, one day out of school is one less with him (in this case Quimica.) But just so you know, more than rhyme, syllable-count is usually one of the big things with me. Just not in any recent poems, I suppose, except... fuck what was that one's title...? Oh, shit, duh. "The Chemistry" >.> Yeah, except with that one.
OKAY! I swear! I'm done now. Au revoir, ma cherie Ellen. =] -
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OH YEAH! It's called an accent! Woo, glad I remembered that. Twenty minutes later -.-
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