Worlds of Green.
Worlds of Green.
by Haley Davis
I gave into a world that was not my own,
Eyes opened and waiting expectantly.
I see only green,
As green as Eden ever looked,
And as pure as the green hills ever beckoned.
That is your world.
I reside there content to sit on the green pastures and think.
I think of my life before and the deep blue I left behind.
Deeper and bluer than the sea, I lived.
Forever sinking and floating – pulled by the tide.
It is the cycle in which I was caught,
It is now – in this new world –
That I am given the gift of calm.
The gift of peace.
I am left to sit in fields of green as long as your are with me.
It is this life I live.
This green life I choose.
Cavernous.
Cavernous
by Haley Davis
Cavernous are your mystical ways.
Your mind has endless tunnels of darkness,
Each with a ray of life glittering at the end.
Cavernous is your body,
Each new movement reveals a new crawl space,
A new bed for my bones.
Cavernous is your desire,
Passion gives way to passion and reverses to reveal purpose.
That is the cavern I meet you in.
I find you in the cave called desire and we live there.
Making homes for vagabonds who visit and never learn how to stay.
We are the makeshift parents of the lost.
We are the cave dwellers, we are the chosen ones,
Because we have chosen the time of darkness and insist to see the light.
So we crawl through tunnels, the deep tunnels of each other’s minds,
And we discover endless rays of light.
What Was I To You?
What was I to you?
By Haley Davis
That distant star in the sky, the one that no one can see except for with a telescope, you remember looking at that one with me?
Well I’ve become her. I’ve transformed into a ball of light too distant for you to see with the naked eye.
Your body was naked, and now it’s your eye.
And all the time I was too far off.
In distance for a moment, for a rotation of the earth and then gone.
In fact, the truth is, I don’t even burn anymore, I’m a flame that used to be.
You are seeing what was there and not what is.
But are you even looking? Did you keep the telescope that bonded us, or was that given to another?
Used as a tool for connection but never for continued conversation. The seduction but not the holding still – never the lasting flame.
You are a meteoroid, bursting into flame and catching the attention of thousands. You are the start that people wish upon, if they are lucky enough to see you.
You have all the heat and all the purpose of a meteor show. Littering the earth with your passion, and powerfully affecting the earth with your landing.
But what am I? A flame that extinguished much too long ago. Do I still matter? Did I ever? Or was it only the appearance of light that made me shine? Made you look, made you hold still. For one second and then, explode.
Or implode.
The telescope never answered that question.
Surplus.
Surplus.
By Haley Davis
Sir, please understand that addition is all I’ve ever known.
To divide now, to deteriorate now, is a pain too strong.
I know what it means to gain, to give, to add, to multiply,
But to take - that’s simply too much, too little.
Sir, please know that I have given all, infinitely gifting.
It’s not a choice any longer. To add is the rhythm of my body,
The purpose of my soul. When the day comes to lay my body
In the earth I shall be the greatest addition to souls floating in the sky.
The sky of souls is the place of perpetual addition, I aim for that alone.
But you sir, ask me to give, ask me to divide.
Divide what? My heart from my soul? I will not.
Minus is an evil word, sir, plus is the only word I’ve ever known.
Hidden Truth.
Hidden Truth.
By Haley Davis
To hide is to mask a million things that should be true.
Truths find their way out all the same.
It’s the covering that seeks to reveal.
Truth seeks truth at all times, even when hidden under you.
You hide from the things that aren’t real, the truth to conceal.
A mask does no more for a man than an umbrella does in the rain.
Covers, yes, but never hides.
It rains all the same.
Forever raining truths from the sky,
Hitting the ground and splashing up to wet your feet.
You slosh around in puddles of truth,
Marked by the damp residue.
And all day long you carry the memory of that rain.
That truth.
The world may not end in flood, but there will always be floods.
Even when the sun comes out, the rain does not end.
Truth always persists.
Truths find their way out all the same.
And Then There’s That.
And Then There’s That.
By Haley Davis
It’s that smile.
It’s that laugh.
It’s that way the world feels easy and true.
It’s that touch.
It’s my shiver.
It’s the way the world feels calm and new.
It’s that silence.
It’s those words.
It’s the way I feel revised and renewed.
It’s that person.
It’s that sigh.
It’s the way you have opened my eyes.
The world has shifted and come alive.
Killing Time.
Killing Time.
By Haley Davis
She’s killing Time,
Murdering her best intentions.
Not shooting, no.
Not stabbing, no.
Not poison, no.
Rather she watches him from far off,
Giving him the choice and watching him choose “goodbye.”
She holds him with open palms and cries as he runs.
She gave away Time and he took the distance.
Flight of the Caged Birds.
Flight of the Caged Birds.
by Haley Davis
“Come on, let’s go!” She says, eyes burning bright.
“Why now? Why this moment? This very moment.” He searches her eyes for answers.
But it is her mouth that gives one, “Because it’s all I’ve got.”
“All you’ve got?” He laughs, “Death?”
“No. Not death, life.” And her eyes catch on fire.
He is not yet ignited and begins to shuffle away.
“It’s the only one. It’s the only one ever. Till the end of time.” She pleads, taking his hand.
“I gave myself over to complacency a while ago, sold myself to apathy. It’s my secret.” He admits with sad longing tears.
“Secret’s only hold us if they remain secrets. Give me your secret soul and we will fly.”
He reaches in and takes her hand.
“See?”
“Oh I see. I am who I give myself away to.”
And they fly.
March On In Fields Of Green.
March On In Fields of Green.
by Haley Davis
If stuck, call out.
If tired, rest your head.
If weary, find the sunshine.
If broken, march on in fields of green.
To walk forward despite the marshes of failure, it is our only saving grace.
To press on, though the jungle pulses of danger.
That is the moment to march.
March onto greater things, march onto new experiences, march into new life.
The world is green with envy of our inhuman power to conquer – both ourselves and the world.
We have been cloaked with the magic of marching on.
Pressing on – always, continually pushing forward.
Unless we must stop to take a rest.
Careful not to get stuck in that resting place, it quickly grows comfortable.
You have been cautioned, and yet:
If stuck, call out.
If tired, rest your head.
If weary, find the sunshine.
If broken, march on in fields of green.
The Half-Loved Girl.
The Half-Loved Girl.
by Haley Davis
She’s the girl with the sad eyes and smile that could tear you apart.
She’s the girl constantly divided by fractions and percents.
She’s the in between.
She’s the heart of steel and stone -
Slowly, repeatedly giving part over whole.
Part of the whole:
You are.
She is dividing, coinciding with a love that doesn’t choose -
A love that never loses, as long as she stays in between.
She’s the girl who can’t run because her heart is too heavy,
Bolted to the ground, holding her body in place.
She’s the girl who is almost worth the risk, almost worth the pain.
But in the end, almost is a fraction in itself.
Almost gives no promises.
Half a heart and a bucket full of almosts.
She’s the girl given half, and for whom whole does not exist.
When defined by decimals, odds seem favorable,
But whole promises are the only redeemable truths.
She’s the girl who gives the world, and receives a pocket full of halves that she holds forever dear, forever near.
