| VELOURIA'S LITTLE HOUSE OF DREAMS | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Hey everyone, I'm velouria, I got the name from my favourite pixies song, I'm a poet, an artist, a singer and a sucker for techno. I'll be sharing my poetry with all of you and if I have space, my best monologue. My poetry isn't very straightforward or to the point, so bear with me, I think in metaphors. Other than that, I work as a stage manager at a university Please e-mail me with your opinions of my work, I have a lot of time on my hands so I'll write back. Any criticism is encouraged, whether its good or bad so feel free to rip into my work or compliment it. All I ask is that you don't plaigerize it. that would be like selling my memories for your own personal amusement. I really wouldn't appreciate that much. __Velouria__ | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Read some poems, all untitled, don't usually rhyme | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
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POEM 1 goes out to Karl Somewhat indescribable, inspiration is his gift, scared of what I may or may not represent, and the risk is quite seductive. We want, feel and covet, and cannot deny this desire. But denial is what he represents, and we ache because of it. the certain restraints are indefinable, though I rule out the possibility, that the simplest and easiest explanation, is at all the answer. Why do we covet, what we cannot have, and reject what is within our grasp; without consequences. or is the parting, what we fear most of all? inevitable, but what bliss, we could share as none have done without regret The cause and effect would justify the meaning, and the shared acts of passion whether a kiss, a caress, a soft word spoken without hesitation and with the fullest intentions such grace is a gift, not a curse to be embraced until time runs out run later, we are here, now, with the opportunity, To make it last forever . . . __velouria__ POEM 2 falling drops of acid rain ceaceless floods of bitter pain what brings out the masochist in you? the difference between false and true? slow it down some, get a better look Do you like what you see?? Do you really see me? Am I a pretty little face? Something you'd like to chase? lovely little malancholy chick, I hate my face, don't want your dick boy, you best pray that I bleed I don't have the energy to fill your need desperate thoughts that fill your head, my words spilt in tones of red you're the poet, I'm the muse? pick a role, its time to choose __Velouria__ POEM 3 You're allseeing eyes continue to wander the endless night, where gods once danced upon our dreams and your curiousity unviels the realm of fear, that you can no longer hide behind false joys, unmistakeable sorrows and the strange sudden fury forced us to face the slow driven loss, and the acrid eyes of youth turn cold to drums and flutes the music has changed, meaning the same and taken over by the slaves. we no longer have loyalty to a soaring dream of endless wonder and the actors confess before you, withholding discretion, the splendor of softspoken words, misunderstood, by an ignorant million __Velouria__ POEM 4 Bow down to the division of self, all oneness lost to the divine. Beads of pity fall to the floor, the intricate pattern, the careful design forming the cause of belief pure and simple in truth awaiting my final trial description of worthiness growing anew truth embedded, no longer denies the wretch yet quiet of self centered cries unhonored from the effort put forth wept from the wrath of long before remorse for the fate ahead fear of the future, witnessed with dread riding on fear, feeding the change change for the wrong reasons, while the future remains. __velouria__ POEM 5 golden copulations in streets of L.A. lying, soft mad children in the midst of a denial and modern day poisoned by the emptiness of our saddened eyes declarations of power tear at the fraying truth . . . embedded in lies lost are all the glorious passions we once embraced with the blind faith of a guilded youth now tattered, torn, and we stroke the long gone fancy of a beautiful memory, a time of discovery the unknown an adventure the truth accepted with dignity and reduced to a viable option living in as secret world the ones before us could not understand . . . and we danced our illustrious night while the sleepers awoke after dawn __Velouria__ POEM 6 not so much denying as truth is understanding yet the irony of truth is that even though tis not appealing co-existance is a possibility the desire to be at peace with ones environment accompanies with it guilt of the accomplishment hence; chaos, anarchy, pain, conflict, suffering, reflected inward . . . doesn't fulfill or make the strife any easier self destruction magnifies, the ills we try to escape from creating a confinement entirely based on what we were retreating from in the first place __Velouria__ I hope you liked my work, It means more to me than my petty existance in itself. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| This is for someone special, Someone who did the right thing in a time of confusion. Thank you and don't forget me. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| After that brief occurance, I find myself alone, again ... remembering the sweet smell of his cologne I'd catch it on a breeze somewhere random, without warning And with that scent followed the soft memories of him how gentle his touch was to my face, and his hand brushing against mine when she wasn't looking the warmth of his skin made me forget a thousand sorrows and made a thousand joys, seem insignificant The depth of his stare returning mine, said all the words I wanted to hear and those he never would've said and I'm grateful he didn't So here I am, those gentle eyes gone those soft lips gone the little considerations he made, just to remind me he cared all gone I've accepted that loss the loss of someone who wasn't mine to begin with but our brief shared moments were all i wanted If I could have those days over to spend, I'd leave things as they are and were But with the sweet smell of his cologne to remind me
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