Sing, sweet siren.
On we go and up we go
In heaven and in heart.
I told you so, I told you so,
Happy is an art.
I love you now, I always...
Sing, sweet siren.
It is all you are good for.
Waves lap in symphony,
Seagulls cry overhead,
Your cracked lips part.
With your chest, stomach, heart
You scream, ‘Save me!’
He thinks he’s better than me.
Somehow he heard what I wanted to be
And laughed in my face at my reality.
He wants to sail the sea,
Visit every place and climb every tree,
Spend all of his parents’ money.
He thinks there’s only one kind of free...
I scare you because I look like you –
I am smaller, weaker, helpless,
Wooden.
My eyes and lips are painted on. My dress is glued around my shoulders and my waist.
You wear rings
and I wear strings...
It’s a curse to have one hundred eyes,
To see the truth and see the lies.
One hundred suns set, one hundred suns rise,
Heroes flock to me for my advice.
My hundred eyes make me wise
And foolish mortals idolise.
Zeus is born. Coronus dies...
In scholarly fashion I reside.
I straighten my posture and widen my eyes.
Who knows what tomorrow or the next year will bring?
I can guess. I can think.
But I’ll never really know until I look back to this day
In a year or so and say, ‘The way
Was so clear and bright as the sun...
My eyelids fluttered closed like heavy burdens.
Sharp shooting pains in my temples sent me to sleep.
I could not breathe in the suffocating pillow
And I slipped into unconscious deep.
I found myself in a white room.
The walls were glass, the floor was snow,
It was empty and there was no door...
Mother Earth of blue and green clings to the cliffside.
With fingers bruised and eyes wide, she’s terrified.
Metal chains pull her down into the dark abyss.
I take her hand and bless her with a gentle kiss.
I strain with all the strength of my little human soul
And it isn’t me but hope that takes complete control
A hand rests on my shoulder and I feel their smile...
I’m lucky that I’m not alone
When that hellish darkness consumes the heavens,
Snuffing out the bright greyness like a cold, black glove.
I’m frozen to the very bone,
As if I’m not wearing the thickest white fur winter coat
That exists to tackle the cold.
It’s not so much a thing I own...