TRYST Kushiels Handmaiden's blog: "Poetry"

A woman is created in the image of the higher power, same as a man. A master is one who accepts his divinity within him, but a submissive is a goddess on her knees. You claim "women were created at the behest of man." I answer, I look it as God created man and then he made the debugged version. But in truth women were created from man, as a supporting part of man. In essence, it partially embodies the concept that man is not whole without her, and cannot function properly without her. And that is the Logic of my kind.

So many people, who write books, seem to have some great secret wisdom to share, but all I seem to have is that wisdom I have found through those same books, in music, and even in silly little quotes. I could fill these pages with those things I have been blessed to learn, I do think they are well worth the time and the ink, and maybe you might find something more here that maybe you didn't know. For instance, rain falls and sometimes it falls on your head. Just as the sun warms my skin, warms us all. But for some, that sun is hard to find. If we could be the sun for those others, then maybe we as a people might just get through our own sadness. I guess it could be seen as selfish, but I have found when you give warmth and light to someone else's life, then your own life warms up and you feel so full. Then at times when your own sun hides behind a cloud then those warm feelings can bring you back to life. Also when that doesn't work, sometimes those same people you helped come back to lift you up. I have also learned that what makes you different really does make you beautiful. No matter what those things are, they add rich flavor to the same old sensations. When we're just getting used to the world, like Jr. High or High School, we think we need to be like our friends, like everyone else. For some people that works, but some people are not meant to be cast as a butterfly. Some of us are birds, cats. These each have a place in the world. At any time we need to feel free to try on the 'costumes' of others, but if they idea doesn't work, then at least you always have "you." The other important part is never to compromise your ideals, those are going to get you through all the good and all the bad. When the time comes you'll be able to look at yourself in the mirror and see through your OWN eyes and they are not tainted by the vision of those other people. Another reason to find your own beauty is because if you can see your own, then you'll see others peoples beauty just as well. A great piece of pure wisdom is that not all the books and stories in the library are worth the paper they are printed on. I am sure famous people have so much to share, but they have made it BIG. Sometimes the best story to be told come out of the real people, the ones who never even made it medium. Their stories are the ones of pure faith, hope, and the perseverance to keep trying. Even when they fell down they never let it keep them down. These people can be in your own family, in the neighborhood, or even a homeless person. These are the stories that never really get told, these are the stories I wish I could tell the world. The greatest lesson in life I have learned so far is that your parents did the best job they knew how to do. Parents foul up and make bad choices. Low and behold they are human too. They really don't always mean the mistakes they make. Despite there foul ups and hard ships, I just think they are trying to set right the mistakes they their own parents made and not make them again. But they can't always see the mistakes they are making at the time. Always believe in whatever makes you feel more at peace. In this world you can't always control even your own life. when you have something to believe in you always have something to turn to. These beliefs can be anything from magic to Christ, to how the world can be saved. Something that gives you something to work towards, something so your life has a goal. There is no way this can really be so bad, but always be accepting of those others different beliefs and know its what gives those other people the energy to keep going. Also, be flexible enough to know when its time to change or alter the path your life is going, a goal is good but don't get too locked into it. The hardest thing to do in life is to live in it. So many people just give up, believe they cannot do it. Other go through the motions, doing the same day to day activities, never really taking the chances that provide the thrill and joy that comes from really living. The dark parts of life, they are just shadows. They do not have to be lasting. Later in life those dark moments will blend with the bitter sweet, they will always have a small shadow, but it doesn't have to haunt your life. The other good part to the dark parts is they seem to challenge you, inspire you to rise above and really show you what you're made of. If it were not for those challenges then you might never learn what lives inside your heart. That same darkness will later provide as the salt to the sweet moments, making them brighter. So, its almost like a work of beautiful art. With light and shadow, both equally important. So when you choose to live you're choosing to inspire life and love in others. Never just blow off the small things, it might be a simple rainbow, but its beautiful. Take a moment to appreciate how amazing those small wonderful, everyday miracles are. You never know when one day those same traits might be found in you. The simple pure beauty of light filtering through water, then BOOM color streaking through the sky. You never really can know when you just might be someones "boom color." Always remember the only people worth getting even with are those people who have helped you. The people who harm are already gone, trying to get "back at them" only proves to them that they got to you enough to affect you. Are those people really worth the effort? What about the people who lend a hand to you time and time again; those are the real people who are worth the effort and who should really affect you. Take time to look back. Don't sit and dwell, but do really look, see where you've grown and changed. Ask yourself are these changes for the better, if not; try and ditch them. Love is infinite, there is no real end to love. It might change, but it never really ends. There will always be some part of you that will always love some part of someone else. Also, you can never run out of love, just because you love one person does not mean you cannot love more. Loving many people does not mean you love some others less. You can always make more love. So be free to love with your all, because love is rare and beautiful and you should show it for what it is. Yet always remember, just because someone doesn't love you the way you WANT to be loved, does not mean they don't love with will all they can or even know how. Each of us have a different way of showing our love and that doesn't make any style less valid or not as worthy.

Love, a fickle and demanding Master, Takes from your heart and soul, Making you surrender all control, And more often then not ends in disaster. It demands and perverts the mind, Making one enamored with 'the one,' Blinds to their faults as if they're the sun, Making promised to each other that bind. Then life and love dawns to reality, And they become their true self And love turned into a fatality, With sad little to do for help. When love is at the wheel Your only hope is just to feel

Roses bloom in endless blood-red petals Like lovers blush and twice as real Bluer then early dawn Dawn on the new beginning Changing with ticking beats of musical time The loudest noise in the world Roaring waves cry out innocence Washing away mans black unseen sin on the sand That keeps returning changing Seasons change Fall to Winter The colors turn bright white like looking into a flashlight Blinding into springs riot The riot of emotions blooming within My heart that is still in love with the land Which comes to life each season Light dawns murky on the chilled petals Warming them to dawn open themselves Red-pink new and fresh The lips of my land Bloom in the Spring and Fall To remind me of my lover land

My dreams Are wrapped in silver strands of hair, Lost in brown-sugar brown. Wordless eyes watch, As a poet drones half-hearted words. While green blankets of clothes, Pillow my restless day dreams, Of soft masculine hands, Against the red- goose flesh of my Uncertainty. Tender hungry kisses, Laced with age. Made rough with salt and pepper seasoned facial hair; The Sweetest Sandpaper. The Smell of half stale cigarettes While the noble hook nose presses Into heated, Pulsing Flesh of an Arched neck. Kaki colors and brown tie shoes. Eyes I want to see your eyes, That is all I am wanting right now. The slant of the spine under my, fingers Soft gentle smiles in dim lights And his hands; Soft, tender, posses. Lust for the unseen. The flow of ideas, all from a Glance. The taste of an ashtray ignites a flame unseen. The smell of skin, Temptation and Desire. I can know for certain, Love is not dead; Just Dormant in my veins.

I dream in violence, sounds, and colors all twisted to mock. Like a movie, I cannot stop. History and Facts, dreams all become real. A girl screams, as she chops her own fingers off. To save her life. She turns to me, as does, The Man who will kill us both. She was too late., I am still alive. Screaming as I run, old metal, gray miles of industry. I hide, I pray, "No God" is all I hear, and I cry. He hunts, my ghost, my memory, he is fear. I wake screaming, sweating. I am assaulted by my overly cheerful pink room. hosed down in a five year olds peptro bismol color. The night light, pictures. I am safe, For now. The mangled girl watches, From behind my eyes. We both know it's only time, that tick tick tick tock sound. "No God, times running out." There is hope, There is faith. But Time is running out. The girl is already fading, is she dead? Why do I feel so empty> Shivers of his face, Dark eyes, no hair, he looks like everyone else; but he wants to kill me. Is he real, is he fear? There are no answers in the dark.

Surrender The white flag belittles the atrocities, Of stricken bodies between enemies at war. What distrustful nuance bring rational men, To this grunting war staved brute? Eyes, that once say brotherhood, Once raised skyward in prayer, Now determined to lie to waste, All it sees in man. Mother mourn, Seeking comfort, Seeking solace, In the times before ruin. I am guilty of the burden of hate, it, slips so easily over naked shoulders, Never do I ask why I wear this blood burden. I am the sins from all those wars, Sins of all that death, The living embodiment of self destruction. Standing on battle ground, Arms spread wide to carry my terror stricken voice. STOP! Like a great wave, False truce crashes on my shores of sorrow, The lone figure in a sea of red blooded anger. I have transcended form, born testimony, and found, Angelic Grace. Brother’s what lies you tell yourselves, In my name, For I am both goddess and Country. Do you seek to destroy me for your pride? Come not as rivals, but two lovers to my heart. Feast on me, Drink of me. And be born of my blood anew. Can you not set arms at peace, For love of the same woman. What had been destruction, Becomes a glorious feast. Not just peace, but bonds making. All reborn of the same cannibalistic mother, Now washed clean in tainted blood. Peace be where those dare to love.

Refuge Palace of dreams Ads and pollution Tar stenches roof tops Society calls its norms. Shelter from the pile of Garbage, My poetic musings Even Walt Disney might find it garish Mimics the population in the forgotten world, A nightmares collection of wild flowers A tale of mystic mystery, Blanketed in white death, Linger in the silence stillness of winter, Green blue of proud evergreens, A riot of colors to make sunset jealous, Makes a heady perfume, Ripe fruit. Those palaces of heaven, Beautiful throne, gilded by vanity, Gluttony rules on. Unfair struggle amount to the buzzing of nectar drunken bees. Heavy, like that feeling of dread. Between here and there.

Heaven Pleading screams soundlessly unheard, The desperate sanity of a daughter born of man, But a Goddess twice removed. Eyes opened to the unseen, Hard put to rally the opening of my soul. The question "why" God was mine. Me, and the cold moon, Me, and the unsettled waters. The Answer viewed through old innocent eyes. Laid to the bitter winds, Few eyes really see, God's secret Palace. In the stolen moments be the ocean, It is here where God resides

I lack real form, And so I linger in words. that you'll only remember. when I am gone. But one day, I'll be real. Of body and mind, and I won't be so expendable. I won't be just a memory. One day I am going to be much more, then the one that got away. cause to you right now, I'm nothing. But that's not how I will stay. Inside me is more, then you will ever know, but when every change it gets broken. its very hard to grow. So I water strength in tears. And take my place with the shadows. cause you broke your word, and broke my feelings. And it never really mattered. Today, I might be nothing, but I am sure that's not how I'll stay. Cause I am made of more then air. And I cannot just dissappear. So I am nothing but shadows today, writen off with out much trouble. But one day, I'll be so much more. Till then I dun exist. Till then I am the nothing. For today I am your joke. But at night when shadows rule, you'll know and taste your lies, you'll remember things left unsaid. When you safe in sleeping bed. I cannot harm you, I'm just a shadow. Like the ones in your nightmares. I am nothing I dun exist, like the monster under the bed. Laugh me off at day. But at night I haunt. I will not always be a ghost.