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Literature Text
The familiar calm when the air runs cold
Happens more frequently as hurt gets old.
Time slows to a halt for the oncoming rain
Sparking deep from the core of the source of Her pain.
As the skies turn dark, filled to the brim
By countless sealed letters personally sent.
With written concerns calling relent.
Silence! Comes Her beckoning whim.
The roar of the thunder, the weakening gates.
Till they hold no more, breaking hinges and free inmates.
Falling with order rather haphazardly.
Hitting their mark with a message immediately.
'Tears from Heaven', fall far from home.
Misread origins and meanings from a grand tome.
Breathing life into seeds with cause for no guilt
Only wanting care as She quietly wilts.
The life being conscious never does it hear
Gaia's hurt cries of love and fear.
Kirsten Z. Jacob
Happens more frequently as hurt gets old.
Time slows to a halt for the oncoming rain
Sparking deep from the core of the source of Her pain.
As the skies turn dark, filled to the brim
By countless sealed letters personally sent.
With written concerns calling relent.
Silence! Comes Her beckoning whim.
The roar of the thunder, the weakening gates.
Till they hold no more, breaking hinges and free inmates.
Falling with order rather haphazardly.
Hitting their mark with a message immediately.
'Tears from Heaven', fall far from home.
Misread origins and meanings from a grand tome.
Breathing life into seeds with cause for no guilt
Only wanting care as She quietly wilts.
The life being conscious never does it hear
Gaia's hurt cries of love and fear.
Kirsten Z. Jacob
Literature
Under The Murky Waters
Children of the first sinner,
Dragging his filthy soul at his tail.
He does not dare to look up
Where God's face resides.
Walking the earth; a pack of wild dogs
Scavenging the last pride,
Snatching what is left of mercy.
Down creatures, leeches in the murky waters.
Always on the move to a new pure land,
Hunting down every butterfly wing,
Slaughtering every young green bud.
Children of the massacre, slaves of the cannon
You have your hands down my throat,
Your knife sliding down my spine,
You say: "Keep your smile and greet Humanity"
I swallow the rocks; I wave for my brothers
I fell, I died , they walked over me,
Literature
The Secret of the Trees
Beneath the glow of the twisting moon, we can feel
a horror beginning its birth. The serpent will slither
into a moistened cave and the blood will spill from broken lips
The secret was hidden beneath the trees, where the lovers
were kissed and never told. Yet the stains remain upon the grass.
Never to be erased...
How many times will I return, to a place I wish
I'd never see. Perhaps it is a way for me
To think of that which I regret...
But the man would never remind himself, of the horror
unleashed beneath falling leaves. The petals bear witness
to the struggled screaming, muffled by hands and feet.
A choking embodiment of sweat
Literature
Wings of Despair
Wings of Despair:
A momentary glance toward the birds in the sky;
Makes me feel like I am soaring; with a hope to fly.
But the chilling winds that wrap me, reflect the cold of this day
And the icy frost that batters me, chips me away...
It drains the very breath from me, as though the ice is locked within
I feel my hope is fading again; like a jar of captured wind...
Where once my will was strong and boundless; now it sits on broken wastes
I must admit this crushing despair, it feels as bad as it tastes....
From the moment that I acquired them, these were ugly tattered wings
They were made from my despair, and bound in bitter string
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Author's Notes.
It's been raining quite a lot recently and this got me thinking, about the way nature is taken for granted. This is what emerged...
*Gaia, is the personification of Earth in Greek mythology
*This piece cannot in whole or in part be reproduced, altered or claimed in any way without my explicit permission. ~Kirsten Jacob
It's been raining quite a lot recently and this got me thinking, about the way nature is taken for granted. This is what emerged...
*Gaia, is the personification of Earth in Greek mythology
*This piece cannot in whole or in part be reproduced, altered or claimed in any way without my explicit permission. ~Kirsten Jacob
© 2012 - 2024 KirstenJacob
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Beautiful, it flows nicely