Raven's Wing Poetry » melancholy

Summers Juxtaposed

ravenswingpoetry — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 17:13:50 +0000

Hallway by That Bald Guy You Know

This was a sedoka written for Read Write Poem Prompt #35: “fun in the sun” (NOT!). Here is my take. Enjoy.

-Nicole
————————————————————————
released from the jaws
of school, time was now my own
to sculpt summer freedom with

twenty years later
loneliness wraps around me
in emptied, silent school halls

Written 7/11/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Stumble It!

Christian Gothic

ravenswingpoetry — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 23:50:44 +0000

This poem was inspired by the sight of a very awesome site, ChristianGoth.com. Enjoy.

-Nicole
———————————————————————————————–
Untold,
In my soul -
A thousand Hallelujahs.
I walk the catacombs
Where darkness roams
To find my way to the light,
Though I live at the edge of night,
Bearing torches in my heart
For the lonely
The forgotten
Begotten
Of God and Man.
Can you understand?
We live in an age
Where our page
Of history is written
To leave us smitten
With a label -
Unstable,
Wicked
Devil-worshipers -
When all we do is decorate
Our outer house
To match the feelings within.
Our Lord was not afraid of death.
Our Lord was not afraid of pain.
Our Lord was not afraid of melancholy.
So we walk in the parlor
Of the mournful,
Despite the scornful
Rejection of modern-day Pharisees,
Because we see
Our Lord Jesus
Is there
To bear
Sorrows upon his shoulders
And grief upon his back.

Written 4/15/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Stumble It!

“Melancholy” Published in Word Slaw

ravenswingpoetry — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 23:03:48 +0000

“Melancholy” was published in Word Slaw today. To read it, go here: http://wordslaw.blogspot.com/2008/04/melancholy-nnicholson.html.

Word Slaw is “an online literary journal: mixing it up without a recipe” and edited by Ryan P. Standley.

Hungry

ravenswingpoetry — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 16:16:17 +0000

Hunger -
Rising in my belly,
Brewing in my chest;
A gnawing need gnashing its teeth on my soul.
This goes beyond mere appetite,
Beyond the mountain tip-top of want
(The dastardly beast which growls in my flesh
And reminds me that I am a
Woman
And not a disembodied head of ponderings
Or a deep violet bucket of melancholy and feeling).

No, this is colossal. Mammoth, even.
I cannot ignore this.
This is when I turn into emptiness;
I become a clear, translucent, life-sized figurine -
An empty pit of longing -
Until my heart might leap out of my chest
And sink its teeth into the first meager scraps
Of love that are flung my way.

Grrrrroooowwwllll.
Was that inside or outside?
I don’t know.
But it’s not a threat of death that I sound from within –
It’s the affirmation of the need of love and life
From the bottom of my soul.

I am woman,

And good God,

I am hungry.