A Ring A ring An embrace Expression of love Expression of joy A ring A circle From now until forever From here until wherever A ring A symbol Of your love Of your faith A ring A question You asked me beautifully I answered truthfully A ring A love Shared between us Shared from today onward (Written 8/28/04) posted by Cassandra 5:43 PM . . .
Angel You are my angel I need the sun I need this song I need this speed I need the wind my hair I need to throw my arms wide and scream Come from way above I need the ocean and the mountains I need the open road I need my hand playing in the wind I need the freedom of flying I need this carefree feeling To bring me love I need you (Written 8/23/04) posted by Cassandra 5:19 PM . . .
Untitled I feel beautiful in the setting sun Your eyes make it so I can still see them when I close mine Sparkling like the endless ocean At dawn (Written 8/20/04) posted by Cassandra 5:17 PM . . .
Chikatetsu (Japanese Subway) Paching The sound of snapping High Tension Cables Precedes the cars Here it comes Clicking down the track The slap of running feet The pleasent ping announcing the arrival The lines form Up and away The murmer Of inside voices made audible At this one moment Woosh Arrived Woosh Open Streams of consciousness Pass the yellow line The silence is heavy Each takes his place Handle Seat Window Alone Eyes that are blind Eyes that shut out the world The rocking car lulls us to sleep It is always the same Skirts Suits Bags Ties Sleepy eyes and sleepy thoughts Silent Together The shuffling movements To the door To the seat Don't sit Don't fall Don't hold on Sway to the music Sing to the hum of life Moving from one place to another From one home to another All that exists is the world inside your head The book in your hand The view of the inside of your eyelids Your thoughts seem so loud She can hear them So can he If only they stopped to listen You are so close together His breath moves your hair The twitch of her hand catches your jacket There is no personal space But a bubble envelopes you Keeps you separate Keeps your noisy thoughts It stops Kathunk Jerking you off your feet Pulling your arm Pushing your hips But everyone jerks the same And the bubble remains intact You move to the door Disembark Leave the subway of life And watch As their thoughts leave you behind To the sound of snapping High Tension Cables Paching (Written September 22, 2003) posted by Cassandra 12:04 AM . . .
Now, I've included many of my poems and such here, but I thought I'd give you a taste of something a little different. I've written a story...it's more like a small novel, really, at 185 pages...and thought I'd put a little teaser taste here. It's still in the realm of revisions, and this prologue is actually my second attempt at an introduction, and for those of you who have read my first one, hopefully a much better one. The story's name has been changed many times, but at the moment the title is "A Fear of Madness: An Ultimate Betrayal", but I don't know if it'll stay that. If you want to read more...contact me (graytaillily@hotmail.com). Hope you Enjoy! Prologue Flashbacks Aside from going to the grocery store before Mom dropped me off at school, it was a rather ordinary day in Spokane, Washington. I wasn't looking forward to classes that day, but then, most high school freshmen don't. The school year was almost over and the May rains had started to cover the Inland Northwest. It was a cloudy morning; perhaps that's why none of us saw what was coming. Mom had gotten out to go into the store. I was dawdling, trying to get my legs untangled from my backpack and long trench-coat to get out of the car. Suddenly there was a bright green flash and I felt myself flying backwards. Everything went dark. I crawled out of the wreckage of the car and looked around at the ruins that were once a parking lot and grocery store. In an instant everything I had known and loved had been destroyed. I went into shock, wandering around, looking for something to remind me of what my life had been like only half an hour before. The wind whipped my brown coat behind me as I walked down the abandoned streets, searching. I didn't understand what had happened. Where had the light come from? What had the force to destroy whole city blocks in an instant? I saw people running, heard them screaming something about aliens attacking, but I was in a daze. Slowly I realized I was still in danger, that one green flash had been followed by many others and as I walked the streets, they continued. Now, however, there were smaller flashes all over and gunshots from all around me. I began to panic and some form of instinct took over. I found an army surplus store and began to stock up on weapons. From then on, things get a little fuzzy. In my shock and panic, something was triggered in my brain and a new personality was formed. Her name was Graytail, and while I was reduced to a quivering mass, she was solid as a rock and not afraid to destroy to survive. In fact, she rather enjoyed it. At that point, though, it didn't matter. We were at war with a superior alien race, trying to take our planet from us. Through the fog that was my insanity, I met up with my friends and together we made our way to Kalispell, Montana, where a major offensive was being planned. Though we were all only fourteen or fifteen, we took part in the war and in some small way helped win the war for Earth. My best friend, Marie, and her younger sister, Joe, were also orphaned by the first attacks. A pair of vigilante pilots, the Stealth Fighters, took us in. Jarod and Charlie, the alter egos of crime fighters Trigger and Maverick, respectively, owned and ran a slavage yard where their three young adopted daughters tried to rebuild their lives. The alien threat had been eliminated and life was gradually approaching something like normalicy, but my other personality, Graytail, remained in charge. Even as school began again, I was unable to return to my friends as myself. She created many problems in school, my sophomore year. Slowly however, through many hours of therapy and hard work, I began to come back to myself. Then I discovered that Graytail had been busy, cleaning the streets of certain unsavory characters. I was horrified, but unable to reverse any past actions she had taken. In the end, the commander of the Police Forces, one Commander Kingson, accused me of these crimes and sent me off to a very unpleasant place, Westridge Mental Institution. He and my adopted fathers had a long history of dislike and enmity. For Kingson, this was just another way to punish them for their past mistakes. Instead of staying in the institution for the rest of my natural life, Kingson came to me with a deal. I could leave the insanity behind me and join the Police Forces. I leaped at the chance and entered the Police Forces at the age of seventeen. Of course, my true age and background were hidden deep within piles of paperwork. My friends were entering their junior year of high school as I began my career as a Police Officer. At first I had a simple desk job, but eventually I transferred to the motorcycle unit. I enjoyed the work, but Kingson made life miserable. He was always giving me assignments to remind me of the real reason I was a Police Officer. One time he sent me to my old high school to give a lecture to the senior class on careers in law enforcement. Of course, I ran into my friends, and although I enjoyed seeing them all, it was a painful reminder of what I could never have. He also sent me on special patrol with my partner, Harper, for their graduation. In the due course of things, it turned out to be a very bad assignment. A gunman showed up and started threatening students. Somehow, he managed to take me hostage, and although half of the Police Forces showed up, including Kingson, we ended up in a stalemate. Graytail had never really disappeared and as in all stressful situations, she took over. I freed myself and killed the gunman, but snapped out of my other personality to find myself holding Kingson hostage. I couldn't resist the opportunity I had given myself. I couldn't kill him, but I could tell everyone the truth about my entry into the Police Forces. It was even televised. However, when I let Kingson go, all hell broke loose, and I ended up in a jail cell. *** I stood up and wiped the side of my mouth with the back of my hand. I glared at the Commander and leaped towards him, but was stopped by the two Officers in my cell. I growled and gave him my most menacing stare because I couldn't wring his neck. He smiled at me. "Come on now, Roan," Kingson grinned, stepping closer to me. "Don't you want to find out what the judge has decided about your most recent exploits?" "Bite me," I growled. "Now, I'm sure you'll behave yourself in court today," Kingson replied, looking at his large hand and flexing his fingers. "We wouldn't want a repeat of earlier. I can only do so much to convince the judge that you shouldn't spend the rest of your life in a mental institution." "Ha," I answered mirthlessly. "You own every official in this town. They don't need convincing." "Yes, but I do like to let them think that every once in a while they actually get to make their own decsions," he chuckled. "Now, be a doll and clean up your face, you're bleeding and that just won't do. I'll see you in court." He grinned, spun on his heel, and walked out of the cell. The two Officers dropped me and scurried after him as the door slammed shut. I picked myself up slowly, still a little unsteady from that last blow. I went to my small sink and mirror; blood was dribbling slowly down my chin from the right corner of my mouth. I grimaced, then stopped, surreptitiously rubbing my cheek. The man had a mean left. Well, everything about him was mean, truthfully. I washed my face and stared myself in the eye for five or six minutes, waiting for my escort. By the time they arrived, the bleeding had stopped, but a bruise was starting to discolor my cheek. I sighed and followed the Officers to the courtroom. *** "It is the decsion of this court that Ms. Theresa Roan be enrolled in Royal High School as a Junior and finish the last two years of secondary education in order to be granted her high school diploma. It has been brough to the attention of this court that interaction with other young people her age may help Ms. Roan overcome her mental difficulties. However, during this time, Ms. Roan will remain in Commander Kingson's custody and will be strictly monitored to ensure her safety and the safety of the other students. This court is now adjourned." the judge intoned. Kingson looked at me, shocked, though in his case that was simply a raised eyebrow. I was shocked as well. Me, in high school again? It seemed ridiculous. But in only a few weeks, I would be back in the mix. I didn't see how it could work. Truthfully, though, I was scared. Here ends the prologue. If you would like to know more about the story, or get a working copy of it...or would just like to correct some of my grammer/spelling mistakes, please email me at graytaillily@hotmail.com Thanks for reading! posted by Cassandra 4:57 PM . . .
Sunshine Rain 1. The days were dark Full of pain. I sat around Won't stand up again. I'm all alone In this cold cruel world. Can't walk anymore, My toes are curled. Chorus And then the sun came up Illuminating my heart Chasing away my fears and tears And then you were there Smiling at me And the rain clouds went away 2. The days were cold Full of Sadness I looked for you Avoid the madness I'm sick and tired My brain won't work I feel so dumb Like a lovesick jerk Chorus 3. The days were dim Full of gloom I waited around Searching my room I'm anxious now I can't wait for you Though deep down I know This day I'll rue Chorus 4. The days grew long But sun came out I smiled at you And then the sun came up Illuminating my heart Chasing away my fears and tears And then you were there Smiling at me And the rain clouds went away And the rain clouds went away... (Written February 28, 2003) posted by Cassandra 11:42 PM . . .
My Love My Love Is like a small glass bottle Clutched close to my Heart Filled with a brilliant Light. And like a Genii's lamp When the Right words are spoken, Out come the Three great treasures My Passion My Desire My Love I keep it Corked tight Afraid to loose it on the World. I opened it Once But the brilliant white Light Seared my Heart And I had to put it Away again. And so I shove the Cork tighter Though that makes the Light brighter. I am afraid others will See it In my Face Hear it In my Voice And Each day the Cork gets tighter Will anyone ever see my Light? Will anyone survive its searing Pain? Will anyone ever be able To pull out this Cork? And day by day The Cork gets tighter. (Written May 4, 2003) posted by Cassandra 11:17 PM . . .
Mental Pictures The pictures in my mind The paintings in my heart Are never as beautiful As Nature (Written April 23, 2003) posted by Cassandra 8:56 PM . . .
Late Night Finals' Studying The words that flowed from my fingers Didn't come through my brain. The songs in my head Drowned out the music. The need to scream Clogged my throat. I ran around Because I was too tired to sit still. I ate Because I wasn't hungry. The wind blew my hair away And my grand ideas flew out the tips. My feet sank into the ground But hurt because it was too hard. My heart pulled me in three directions The wind in two. My mind was blissfully blank As I talked of human nature. The tears leaked out As my brain pounded to be let out. Time streached Pulled, like taffy. Thin, but sticky Sweet, but salty. Wrapped around my head Like a winter scarf. Tight...tight... Pulling, pushing. Then the light switch *click* Dark. (Written April 22, 2003) posted by Cassandra 11:40 PM . . .
Revolution Section 8 Jane blushed as they came into the kitchen; the dishes were stacked, waiting to be washed. All the water she had hauled from the well was being used. She turned to Victor to tell him that the tea would have to wait. He was gazing around the room, amazement painting his face. "This is great," he breathed. Jane looked at him askance. It was an ordinary kitchen, less than ordinary, actually. "I'll have to get water for that tea," Jane said, moving towards the dishes and discarded bucket. "Oh! Allow me," Victor grinned, swooping down on the bucket. "I've always wanted to try this." Jane raised an eyebrow. What was he talking about? His grin turned sheepish. (Written April 14, 2003) To Be Continued... posted by Cassandra 11:00 PM . . .
Orion He is always there, Always near when I am far. Our bond is As brilliant as a shooting-star. Other men, Come and go. But he will Never leave me so. His story is long And full of pain. But I care not As long as he will remain. He watches over me, From his starry home. Never will he consent To leave or roam. My man, Orion. (Written April 9, 2003) posted by Cassandra 8:59 PM . . .
Revolution Section 7 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was here," the man said apologetically. He had a strange accent that Jane couldn't place. Jane looked at him, suspicious, as he smiled and walked towards her. He was tall, taller than most men Jane knew, perhaps over six feet. Jane's head only came to his shoulders. Those shoulders were broad, and under ill-fitting clothes he looked well muscled, though her older brothers were probably stronger. A mop of long, dark brown hair framed a face that was slightly round with high cheekbones and a strong, but not large, nose. The hair stopped her for a moment. The style of the times was to have long hair, tied back, but this man's was something closer to what her younger brother, James, wore. Not short like her father's or other older men who were afraid of showing their baldness. No, his hair was scruffy, just long enough to cover his ears, but not enough to reach his shoulders. Jane simply couldn't describe it. Slowly, she realized she was avoiding looking into the young man's eyes. They were a light gray and sparkled brightly. Jane then realized why she had avoided them. They seemed to pull her in. She was standing, staring, her hands frozen in wiping in her apron, looking up at him as he came closer. He stopped close enough that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. My name is Victor," he said softly. Jane realized she had stopped breathing. "I...I wasn't expecting to see anyone there," she stumbled, taking a breath. "My name is Jane." "Would..." Jane cleared her throat and tried again. "Would you like a cup of tea?" Victor nodded and they walked to the back door, while Jane wondered at her forward and perhaps even immoral behavior. All the while the birds sang loud and clear. (Written April 2, 2003) To Be Continued... posted by Cassandra 11:42 PM . . .
Revolution Section 6 Jane hummed along, watching the food cook. She smiled, suddenly feeling at home among the worn wooden objects of the room, remembering her mother's presence. The song faded as Jane started setting the food to cool. Millie continued to hum as the three older girls finished setting up breakfast. As the last plate and biscket were placed, Sally ran out to the yard, to get James and their father. The family that sat down to eat was quiet and subdued, though Millie continued to hum. The sun was just coming past the tree tops as the dishes were stacked on the wooden counter. All the children, except Jane, went and collected thier school books. Nodding to their father and Jane as they shuffled out the door on their way to school, they seemed somber, except for Sally's enthusiastic waving. When all the children had gone, their father stood up, patted Jane on the shoulder, and walked out the door, without saying a word. He was off to see to the few acres of farm that they still owned. The house was silent as she began washing the dishes. Jane hummed to herself to chase away the loneliness, but even the birds were silent. For all the dull light of the sun, it began to feel oppressively dark and Jane felt utterly alone, as if nothing else was alive in the world. She stopped washing and went outside. Everything was still. No wind blew, no birds sang, the sun sat just above the trees, giving little light and less heat. Jane looked around, confused by this odd atmosphere. Suddenly, a breeze swept her hair back and a bird began chirping on a nearby branch. As she turned to go back inside, Jane noticed a young man standing in the yard, looking at her. (Written March 31, 2003) To Be Continued... posted by Cassandra 11:34 PM . . .
So, What Have You Been Up To Lately? Waiting for the bleeding to stop Rushing to find the right time Desperate to get done with it all Remembering the quiet Hoping the book won't come back out Working to make it better Thinking of how it could be, will be, should be Singing the songs of my heart to deaf ears...namely my own Speeding towards I don't know what Worrying about it all Arguing with all who disagree Sleeping more than I should Catching a mental fever Losing everything I thought I had Running towards any goal I think I can get to Grinning and bearing it Frowning at the hard stuff Screaming silently at myself Talking to anyone who can stand to listen Listening for wisdom Searching for answers Eating lots of junk Reading my dispare Sitting around doing nothing Laying around doing too much Organizing everyone but me Playing at being me Creating Something...I think Moving forward...I hope (Written April 2, 2003) posted by Cassandra 11:26 PM . . .
Here's my Journal from my trip to Scotland this past spring break...in chronological order...Yeah! :) Enjoy. posted by Cassandra 11:08 PM . . .
