POEMS & LYRICS BY JRS 9

 

PHANTOM LOVES, PHANTOM WARS

My Poem To You 

She's A Shaman Woman  

I Wanted You 

The Queen Of Sheba - Almost 

Ice Wall   

The Spell Is Broken (Lyrics)  

Because You Thought You Were Nothing 

Can't You Get It Out? 

A Dragonfly And A Flower

Wolves And You 

Shape Shifter 

Troscad Time

Bells Of A Fool (Lyrics)   

 

 

My Poem To You

 

I love you

in the strangest way

thatís not really love

nor less than love.

Who are you?

Mystery,

and clear as day.

A holy grail

is hidden inside

your unapproachable storm,

your greatness

that you will not let be

because it frightened someone else.

When I see you,

I see the Queen

you are

and the Queen

they hid

from your own eyes.

So that when today

you try to act like a Queen

you are only bluffing.

You donít know

your own

magnificence.

You canít find yourself on the map,

even though

you are the capital.

Others see

your terrible eyes

flashing like knives

every time they stir

or breathe,

but I see someone else

long ago,

come to smash your palace of glass

with their dark and envious

hammer.

I see them pulling the

most beautiful flower

out of the garden

with a lie.

"You are only a weed,"

they said,

but your petals

couldnít help shining:

so they hurt you

till steams of blood

poured from your soul,

the blood called anger

to drive away

the water

and the sun

that were trying

to reach you.

Your thorns

have slain

many a fairy-tale ending;

and when God chose you

to receive His treasures,

you stayed sitting,

you did not believe

He could be calling you.

 

But I see you

behind the dark veils,

I see you as a soul

and as a woman.

It takes more than clouds

to bury the sun

from a poetís eyes.

 

Each day I bask in your radiance,

I drink the beauty

that is poured from the cup

of your every move,

I know

whatís a lie,

and whatís the truth,

I believe in things

that you donít.

 

When I see your bare arms

emerging from that summer dress

it is like seeing another woman

completely naked,

because itís your arms.

They do that to me.

When I see your smile,

it is like

the world was saved;

the empty candle

in my dark heart

is lit by

the flame of your joy,

even though

I am only on the edge

of your smile,

and have nothing to do with it.

And when I hear you laugh

from far away

it is like the sound

of birds over the barren sea

that tell the dying sailor

land is near -

though it is land for you, and not for me.

It is as though

it were my land,

too.

 

Sometimes,

I look at my wounds

and think of the times

you have dug your fingers

into them

and I think,

"I should leave you,

too.

I should leave you

alone

in this empty house,

let your ghosts consume you,

and your own dark moods,

let the minutes pass

like a guillotine

being readied,

still the last

footsteps

that would come

your way."

 

But then -

but then -

who you really are

underneath the pain

that causes pain,

somehow it comes out, like

a beautiful hand reaching up from the ruins,

asking for nothing

and least of all from me,

but still,

I just canít leave it,

I just canít leave it,

though I said I would leave it

yesterday

and am sure to say I will leave it

tomorrow,

I just canít leave it,

and itís not saving you,

itís wanting you -

first for me:  and then, when that foolish dream is over,

for the beauty

of things that could be

without me -

because poets love beauty,

even when theyíre left out.

I wish I could hold

your hand.

I wish I could

hug you.

I wish I could

say something that would make it better.

But I can only write a poem.

I can only write a poem,

and burn it in the air,

like a prayer

of ancient times

made to you,

made to you,

made to you,

made to who you really are,

still trying

to be free.

 

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Sheís A Shaman Woman

 

 

Sheís a shaman woman,

itís just

that she has no tribe.

When she walks away

into herself,

the bills donít stop coming.

It doesnít matter where sheís been -

to the most sacred place,

to the top of the spirit mountain,

where you can see all the worldís soul,

spread out for an instant

just like you were God.

It doesnít matter.

No one here will wait for her to come back,

no one here

will wait to touch the part of a vision

she can put into words

or to believe in the part

that she canít,

the part that

falls

out of her bewildered,

transformed eyes. The part that proves it all.

Theyíll only ask why she didnít pay;

and turn the sacred journey

into homelessness:

grasp at the things

she owns

as though she were deadÖ

 

Sheís a shaman woman.

Sometimes she brings the light

and her hands

could heal the lame.

Sometimes she thrashes around

in dark waters

fighting demons

we canít see.

She saves the sun

from being eaten,

the moon from being stolen

by the monsters of the night.

But those who donít know

think she is merely hunting them.

They donít know enough to move out of the way,

they stay clumsily in the sacred space

as though it were theirs,

even when spirit needs it more:

and then they blame her

because they have got mixed up

in her shadow-battles.

Who stays

in one place

when the tide rises

and the ocean claims the shore;

and who blames

the ocean?

But they blame her.

They throw stones at her

when she wakes up,

and tell her, "Leave."

 

Sheís a shaman woman.

She needs a forest of her own.

And a people who would let her come

and go, and accept

"sometimes"

instead of

"always."

(The kind of people who when they saw the

wild geese arrive,

said "Thank you,"

not "Where have you been?")

But here,

thereís only this little space,

no room for so much

life

and so much destruction

all at once.

No room

for so much terrible honesty,

no room for the

mistakes

where lightning is born.

 

Sheís a shaman woman,

but the world doesnít want her

that way.

They want her

singing and her magic

to die.

They want no mountain

rising above

the flat plain.

They want no fear,

and will give up the truth

just to feel safe.

Like blind men,

they have no need for the moon;

so put it out!

 

Sheís a shaman woman,

in a bad time.

Just hanging on.

A great one,

limping

at the bottom

of a world

thatís not really

the world.

 

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I Wanted You

 

 

I wanted to hold you.

I looked at you that night

and I felt

the forcefields

vanishing,

my field of self-defense

and loving

someone else;

your field

of wanting something better than me,

or perhaps

just not trusting men.

The impervious power of your face

like a shield

you always hold up

to stop

the spear of love -

I saw it begin to melt

in the darkness we were sharing,

something soft came in,

and ready,

and suddenly I could feel us naked together,

giving everything up

to have that one moment.

I could feel us naked together

as we sat across the table

from each other,

I could taste your lips

and see your eyes,

your proud eyes

giving in,

I could feel your body

saying "Yes,

I could feel all the reasons why we shouldnít

vanishing,

like a disease

thatís been healed.

I wanted you so much

that night,

when our loneliness

was almost stronger

than our reason -

when we almost blundered

back

to life.

 

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The Queen Of Sheba - Almost

 

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

Sitting there alone

with her dangling legs,

her orphan legs

hanging over the edge

of the sofa.

She should be in someoneís arms right

now, but all she has

is the TV.

No one chose her.

Sometimes the brightest jewel

is left lying

on the side of the road.

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

Her eyes

- her eyes are like deep pools

waiting for love

to jump into them.

But no one dares to.

After a moment of infatuation

the risk takes over,

and dreams crawl back

to second choices.

Some people live

in frozen wastelands;

some people live in inhospitable

jungles.

In the same way,

the world is able

to live without her.

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

She is what everyone wants,

but the dose is

too strong.

The panther-walk

that entrances,

the love-fury which you can

read between the lines

of anything she does;

the laughter

that could bite you in two -

itís too much.

No one brings

the moon

into their bed.

You just look at it

and leave it

for someone else.

Everyone leaves it

for someone elseÖ

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

Solomon

went inside

when he saw her coming,

he was too wise

to say yes.

She came with treasures

from her land,

so the story goes,

camels laden

with silver and gold,

jewels from beyond the mind,

from the deepest mines

of the heart:

she came with herself.

But wise Solomon slipped

into his palace

and closed the door.

He knew the treasures would kill him

if he let them in,

just like fire

kills a moth.

Just like a raven

kills the thought

that you know it all.

He would not let the whirlpool

of such a woman

drag him down

to drown in

things

that only death

has the right

to bring.

He closed the door.

And without him

she could not be

who she was.

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

Alone,

but not willing

to settle for less.

Only Solomon will do,

and heís too wise

to say Yes.

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

Shining too brightly

to slip past the guards;

carrying too much

to fly.

Stopped at the gates of every

loverís mind

before the heart has a chance

to say,

"I donít care."

 

Sheís too much.

Everyone wanted

less.

 

Sheís the Queen of Sheba

- almost.

 

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Ice Wall

 

 

Ice wall.

Who do you think

I am?

No, I wonít crawl,

not through

that cold air

thatís come between us.

I know itís not me,

itís your

will

to be alone.

I canít break it.

Iím only me.

 

Ice wall.

Yesterday,

you were the shining sun.

Today

youíre a storm cloud,

covering yourself;

you sacrificed all your light,

was it just to get at me?

But Iím not the one.

I didnít do it.

 

Ice wall.

Just when I was coming

your way.

But you wanted to be alone.

You needed a betrayal,

and there I was, standing like a fool

outside your door,

the perfect crime victim.

So you stole my motives;

you ran away

with my true feelings,

you left me as you wanted,

another cold and worthless one,

just to prove

the virtue

of solitude.

Seeing the world that way

is like a moat.

It keeps the castle safe

from the threat of happiness.

How well you defend

the dark prison

they locked you in.

 

Ice wall.

You used me

to protect

your grief,

not to lose any of that black

treasure.

You used me

to stay

alone.

Iíd be angry at you,

if I hadnít used you, too.

To be happy for one moment

I dreamt there was no wall.

And I hid upon the shore

of your

turbulent soul

listening to things

I knew would never be -

not with you.

Premonitions of todayÖ

 

Yes, I knew it would finally come for me,

as it had come for all the others.

The day of being frozen.

But I fell harder.

I waited too long

because I needed beauty more,

and so

I saw it more.

In you.

Tragic beauty,

compelled to efface itself

by filling the world

with the sins of others!

How well you use our faults

to entomb yourself!

Well, now youíre safe againÖ

And all you had to do

was break my heartÖ

 

Ice wall.

It wasnít me,

but now I must pay

the price:

because it doesnít matter.

Being alone

is the God

you worship,

and I almost got

in the way.

 

Ice wall.

Donít worry.

Youíre cold enough.

I wonít get through.

 

Good-bye, Ice wall.

Good-bye.

 

I wonít get over you,

but Iíll go on living.

I always have.

Good-bye, Ice wall.

Good-bye.

 

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The Spell Is Broken (Lyrics)

 

 

The spell is broken

No one could have broken it but you

The spell is broken

Broken by the cruel things that you do.

Yesterday I woke up filled with pain

Knowing we were through

But today I woke up feeling alive again

Ready to start anew.

 

And only you could have done it - only you.

The spell is broken

Iím a free man

The spell is broken

Thanks to you

 

One day I was just a mule

carrying your gold

Next day when I questioned you

I woke up as a toad

But your power went too far

and the spell lost its magic grip

you lost me when I realized

"I can't take no more of this"

 

And the spell is broken

The spell is broken

 

No one could have done it but you

Yes the spell is broken

I'm a free man

The spell is broken

Thanks to you

 

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Because You Thought You Were Nothing

 

 

Because you thought

you were nothing,

you had to become a monster.

You had to try

to rob from others

what you already had.

You had to

step on houses,

and roar in the night.

You made one half of the world run away,

and the other half want

to kill you.

You started a war

that didnít need to be fought

and now youíre losing.

Today

someone who could have been your best friend

finally gave up,

he let you stay a monster.

The woman he loved

wasnít as strong

as the beast

that had grown around her.

And itís all because

you thought

you were nothing.

 

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Canít You Get It Out?

 

Canít you get it out?

Canít you get it out?

This poison, this control

thatís killing you,

thatís corrupting

the most beautiful

vision

that ever flashed across the sky?

 

Arthur pulled the sword

out of the stone,

and became the King of

England.

 

Canít you get it out?

This terrible piece of someone else

thatís

ruining your life,

and mine.

 

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A Dragonfly And A Flower

 

 

A dragonfly

sits

on a closed orange bud.

He seems to

drink from it,

then flies away.

Then he comes back,

and drinks some more.

Then he flies away,

and comes back.

Every time it seems he is leaving,

but his leaving

is only a way

of coming.

Even though the bud wonít open for him,

it seems to nourish him.

Even though he seems to leave,

he stays.

 

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Wolves And You

 

 

Out there,

in the wilderness,

wolves howl.

And we lay awake,

spell-bound by the magic of their longing.

 

In just the same way,

I can hear the life we might have lived together

howling in the distance.

I lay awake, at night, sometimes, listening to it.

And then morning comes.

And there is nothing left

except for the lives we chose.

 

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Shape Shifter

 

 

Shape-shifter.

I always come

expecting someone else.

 

Dove, pure white like snow,

peace in your wings;

hunting wolf, running in a pack,

you and your wounds,

your Furies and Angels,

bringing down the weak;

owl of wisdom

with shining eyes

that own the night;

serpent of the darkness,

striking from

moments of love

to destroy:

who will you be tonight?

 

Shape-shifter.

I always come

expecting someone else.

 

One day, I see a

wounded deer,

I come to remove the arrow

of a cruel hunter

with my gentle eyes,

and suddenly you are a porcupine

with arrows of your own,

my skin

is pierced with the forgetfulness

of my love.

Why canít I remember?

You are never

what you seem to be.

 

Shape-shifter.

I always come

expecting someone else.

 

I see a sweet creature

of the land.

I come.

It is a bird that

flies away.

Loves drive me

to grow wings of my own,

I follow; why should the sky hold me back?

But suddenly

she has become a fish,

disappearing beneath the powerful waves

that remind me

of her soul.

I can never find her,

she is always something

different.

Where she was is never where she is.

By the time I reach her

it is never her.

 

Shape-shifter.

I always come

expecting someone else.

 

How can we love

if I never

know who will be there?

 

Shape-shifter.

I am always one step behind.

Trying to love you,

Iím dying.

I open doors that should stay closed,

I lower my shield

just when the spear is flying in;

and when I hide,

itís when the cold snow is melting.

The chance is missed;

and since Iíve known you

itís been like this.

 

Shape-shifter.

How can we love this way?

I always come

expecting someone else.

 

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Troscad Time

It is troscad time.

Iíll starve myself

by the love that could be

until you

admit that you were wrong

to mistreat me.

Would you be with a man

who gave away his dignity

for love?

 

Itís troscad time.

Thereís beauty in tomorrow

if youíll let it be.

But you have to say

youíre sorry

or Iíll not eat

one bit of your love

nor one bit of my dreams.

For love without pride

is death

for both.

 

One to be a tyrant,

and one to be a slave?

Love never wore chains well,

but always

turned away.

Nothing, at least,

holds the promise of what may still be,

so never should

it be quickly filled;

and never by whatís not right.

 

Itís troscad time.

Time to say no

to the beauty that bows

the Heavens down

and breaks the will

of all but the one

who is worthy

of your love.

And here Iíll sit,

by the door of life through you,

dying slowly every day

till you let me love you

with pride,

till you let me love you

on my feet.

 

Troscad time.

Not you for me,

nor me for you,

till the wrongís undone

and loveís marred slate

with a new beginningís

cleaned.

 

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Bells Of A Fool (Lyrics)

 

 

Bells are ringing

She spoke to me

Bells are ringing

The Bells of a Fool

 

Bells are ringing

She smiled again

Bells are ringing

The Bells of a Fool

 

Bells are ringing

She came back

Bells are ringing

The Bells of a Fool

 

Bells are ringing

I still love her

Bells are ringing

The Bells of a Fool

 

And thereís nothing I can do

And thereís nothing I want to do

Lifeís in the ringing of these bells

The Bells of a Fool

 

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