Releasing my poetry part two!
Hello everyone! Welcome back to another blog post! Poetry has always been something I've been really interested in. I would love to one day release my own poetry book alongside my fantasy YA books. Here are a few pieces I've written over the last few months. Enjoy!
Note: Some pieces below are inspired from the book The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje. Others are inspired from common human experiences.
They say love is like going to war
I just never understood it until you.
You use your words like an impenetrable shield
These days our bedroom feels more like a battlefield.
We circle each other with our weapons drawn
I use silence and you use touch,
Knowing full well how a mere graze of your fingertips is as lethal as hemlock.
My body goes weak and suddenly I’m down on my knees
But maybe you want that,
So you can turn around and stab me in the back.
You always win those drunken midnight battles
Sometimes I don’t even know what we’re fighting for,
But if this continues we’ll both lose the war.
You love to drop bombs like, “you can’t stay the night,”
So I act like you mean nothing to me
Are we ever going to learn two wrongs don’t make a right?
Yet when I see him with his arms around you
I want to beg for a mercy killing
But when you’re in my arms the next night, it makes it all the more thrilling.
I’m just tired of hurting you and letting you hurt me
But when I close my eyes at night, you’re still the only face I see.
I want to try and make it work
I’ll put down my weapons if you put down yours.
Lets take off our armor.
There’s no need to be so guarded
Lets just finish what we started
After all, you’re all I ever wanted.
Sometimes I think you’re the center of gravity
For the way you pull me to you.
You crawled inside my beating heart
Shattering me into a thousand pieces
Turning me into a shadow of the person I used to be,
Then you took them and put the pieces back differently.
I don’t recognize the new person you assembled.
Driven mad by your intimacy and luring smiles
Overwhelmed with the desire to be as close to you as two pages in a book
Paralyzed by your theatre of expressions and stalking beauty.
Only you can undress me with a single look across a busy room.
You don’t even lift a finger.
You’ve always seen right through my carefully crafted mask
Exposing me in a way I’ve never been exposed before.
Tonight you ask me why I love you
But I’m not sure you would believe my answer.
For I would shed my skin down to the bone to prove it wasn’t your exterior that drew me in.
Darling, I first fell for your soul.
Up in this villa I look down on the city below
Past the fields of green and the cluster of Italian cypress trees,
To the cobblestone streets where the Renaissance men left their legacies.
Where Michaelangelo sculpted the David and spent his time painting
The exact place where Leonardo Da Vinci lived while he was training,
To become a great artist, mathematician, and inventor.
I wish I could take Da Vinci’s wings and fly around the Duomo
To admire its terracotta tiles
I bet from up high, Florence seems like it stretches on for miles.
I want to go to the golden Gates of Paradise
So I can memorize the bible.
I’ve never been one to pray but in this city the Roman Catholics practically sing
Hymns of praise and devoted adoration to a heavenly king.
Someday I’ll leave this Villa and take a walk down to Ponte Vecchio
And visit The Birth of Venus
Or learn about the Medici’s reign,
But for now, staying in this deserted hospital is the only thing that keeps me sane.
The war is not yet over and I can still hear the battle cries
I’ve always thought the horrors of war forces the humanity out of soldier’s eyes.
If the war drops bombs down on this city
The world would weep
And God would look down from heaven stricken with grief.
For Florence has its own eternal heartbeat
And a precious culture bleeding from the stone cracks in the streets.
For now, I sit in the garden beside the fountain
Taking refuge in this Italian haven.
But upstairs my burned man sleeps
While death hovers nearby, patiently waiting for his soul to reap.
These days, life is holed up in these same four walls
The company we keep are the ghosts that roam these bomb filled halls.
The only escape route is the book on the bedside table
Holding clues to the life you once lived
Before you fell out of the sky.
Hurtling towards the earth burning as bright as Hailey’s comet.
The flames covered you in third degree burns and battle scars
And I know you don’t remember who you are.
But maybe it’s better that way.
War turns us all into monsters
And flower fields into cemeteries.
Do you want to remember all the faces that met the barrel of your handgun?
Some soldiers don’t have the luxury of forgetting.
The past can be as painful as my finger touching your charred chest.
I wish I could be as lucky as you,
Or wake up with amnesia.
Because every time I close my eyes I hear explosions,
And the cries of men begging me to save them.
It’s as if death has wrapped me in her cold embrace
Plucking people from my life one by one.
This grief feels like a storm cloud, constantly blocking the Italian sun.
But I swear you’ll be different.
I’ll pull you away from deaths skeletal grasp
And I’ll sit here in this garden hiding from my past.
Shins that are burned black to the very bone,
Unable to touch the skin without pain.
That huge book is the very last thing you own,
And you say the love of your life was slain.
These days you can only lie flat in your bed,
You’ve surrendered completely to my care.
Caravaggio says your best friend is dead,
So while you’re asleep, heaven hears my prayers.
You’re finally remembering who you are,
But sick and tired of living this way.
It was your past that caused those horrid scars,
You hear my begging, but don’t want to stay.
And I wish you wouldn’t ask this of me,
But tonight I’ve decided to set you free.
That's all for now guys! Again thank you for reading! Please check out my Youtube channel at Alessia Dickson, new content will be uploaded very soon! I will also be running another international giveaway in the coming months!
3/18/2017 06:08:40 pm
You're so talented!! These poems are honestly so beautiful
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About the Author
Alessia Dickson is the author of The Crystal Chronicles series. She lives in Toronto, Ontario, where she is hard at work on her next book.