written 2004.04.08
uploaded 2004.05.15

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"Ooh, this is one of my prettier poems, I think. It actually says "her"
instead of "his"!!! OMG! It's the end of the world! X.x"

Lol, yeah, I was in London when I wrote this poem, and I posted it on my
Xanga when I got back, hence the quotation marks around the above and below
(the latter of which was written IN London). My older brother bought us
tickets on the Chunnel Tunnel train from Paris to London during spring
break, saying that since we're in Europe (went to visit him in Paris, where
he's studying for his junior year), we might as well check out London, as
well. My bro's awesome...

"[Waiting for the 11.30 changing of guards at Buckingham Palace: 11.07 to
11.37, London time.] Too much family is getting to me. First poem since mom
got to Paris, and the first in London. Bitched with mom [this] morning;
refused to speak, and made it clear with my tone, but, of course, she took
it personally and got all mad. W/e...only 3-4 more years before we leave
for college..."

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Untitled

by Damascus Ochre

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The skies are feigning blue
O'er a stormy cloud of grey
Shrouded in cold-hearted black
And a sharp, remorseless gaze

Kneeling on the floor
Behind a broken family
The bleeding altars burning soft
Through ties, one incomplete

Fluffy clouds of ivory cotton
Soaking in azure
The dark rain masses, diluted darkness
Occasionally pierced in hues

Of broken color and streams of light
A crow that soars beneath
Her soul a broken silence
And her heart a silent beat