SPIN TOP-SWAN ON THE ROCKS: By Jodi MacArthur
Friday, May 20th, 2011Your dark is my poetry. Elven creatures scream in rhymes. They bleed in colors I cannot see. I think red. I see white. I am where you are.
Your poetry is my dark. It binds like chains. There is no escape. Trapped like a mummy, pounding against mirrors to the rhythm of a heartbeat. It’s yours.
In your dark, amongst the screams of the elven creatures, there are shards of mirrors. They do not reflect my image. I forget who I am. They reflect your scars. Your hopelessness. Your fears. Nightmares. Anger. They echo an eternity.
Paranoia is in the alley. In the large eyes of the boy riding his bike to the mailbox, dropping his key. The man approaching with the greasy, blond hair. Shifty eyes. The elven creatures surround the man with the greasy blond hair, screaming. The boy stabs with a pocket knife and blood drips. Softly. Softly. The elven creatures scream. Blood drips like jewels. The mail key drops. Paranoia is in the alley. Sanity breaks like a mirror.
My dark is your poetry. I forget who I am. Shards of mirrors, they echo. They tell stories.
I listen.
The elven creatures scream of their torture. Spikes thrust through their skulls, locking their jaws in place. They scream with their mouths closed. Worms have eaten their eyes. The elven creatures are blind, but still they cry. They bleed in colors I cannot see. I don’t question what they are or why they are there. They represent your pain. Your soul is pure.
I draw fear from your nightmares and weave it into spider webs. Blood drops fall like rain. I catch them with cupped hands and hang them on spider webs like jewels, rubies. Your sanity shatters into mirror shards. I scoop these up like diamonds and string them next to the rubies. Pretty. So pretty like a dreamcatcher.
Safe. You are safe now.
In your dark, I’ve created Jacob’s Ladder with dreamcatchers– dozens, hundreds of them. The jewels, they sparkle, stars in your night leading, lighting the path up the stairway if you choose. At the top of the stairway, there is a door.
Your dark is my poetry. I create out of madness what you will.
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©2011 Jodi MacArthur
Jodi MacArthur believes there are untold universes and worlds begging to be released from each of us in form of breath, dream or voice. This is dedicated to a young person struggling within their worlds. You know who you are. Stay strong.
