Julie's Poetry
Julie Paige

All poems (C) 1997 Julie Paige


Tick tock, tick tock,
Bold sounds the droning of the clock,
The pumping of my pulse
sounds the rhythm of the clock.

Palms sweat, cold sweat,
Wrists are twitching, afraid of threat,
The fright within the fingers
tense within away from threat.

Eyes roving, roving fast,
This way and that a fearful cast,
In wide eyed fright I wonder
who can see my fearful cast.

It's within, deep within,
The shattering drop of the pin,
My soul cries in searching call
please release me from this den.

Let it out! Let it out!
Just set it free and scream and shout,
I wake the lone warrior
breaking free in burly shout.

Set it free! Set it free!
It was once locked inside of me,
The rolling sound of thunder
it was all inside of me.

Louder, faster, louder still,
Oh let it ring from hill to hill,
The fire and the fury
they do climb upon the hill.

Never again will it stop,
In bold barbaric honor
not once more the call will stop.

Thump thump, thump thump,
And bold sounds the eternal pump,
The clicking of the clocks
mimic the strong eternal pump.

Beat as one forever,
Beat as one the endless pump.


The dinner bell sounds
I need not to hear,
In eagerness I wait
My plate is near,

Swirls of warmth
Rise up with the steam,
I can hardly control
My tastebuds' joy scream,

The soft textured meat
Embraces my tongue,
Warm breaths of content
Swarm through my lung,

The lamplight shimmers
In sparkling trails,
Resting for moments
On the discarded scales,

All the herbs and spices
Blended light through each bite,
It swarms with the flavor
Of saute done just right.


A tight grasping stench
The sharp odor holds strong,
I pinch my nose white,
Please tell me I'm wrong!

Oh must I endure
This gruesome feast,
Set in a deep platter
Stares up the dead beast,

The glossy glazed eyes
Fixed out into space,
I cringe up inside
My nerves go to waste,

The slimy gray scales
Steamed warm in a platter,
If this is my food
I will never get fatter,

A warm potent smell
rises with steam,
And from the left gill
The light strikes a beam,

And as the knife
Grinds rough on the bone,
I must leave this feast,
I must be alone.


A single stone hidden among a rocky shore,
A pebble in a sandbox.
Masked by a hard, creviced shell of similarity.
Lying, unnoticed, the world flies by,
Never stopping for that one stone.

Is it just another grain of sand?
Its unique shine out-flared by the blinding beams of the sun?
But who can out-shine the sun?

Reach for the sun,
you will get burned.
Cry to the sun,
the light will not answer.
Shine for the sun,
it will not let you outshine its splendor.

A heart yearns to be part of a great place,
A lonely light smothers in the glare of the furnace,
While the furnace shines on,
Not meaning to exclude, but excluding just the same.

Surrounded by the world,
enveloped by yourself.
Circled by a crowd,
they talk over your head.
The first to spit on the fire,
knocked over by a blast from the hose.

You are in a world of people,
Yet you are the only person.

The world flies by.
Were you invited?
They laugh. They cry.
Do you know why?

But do not be afraid to shine,
Shine with all your strength.

Does not a flame start as a spark?
Does not a flame grow to a fire?
Is not the sun made of fire?

The fire would not come without the spark of a match,
Have you ever caught a spark from a wet match?

Loneliness hurts, you seem alone,
But you must be strong.
Face your fears, fight your sorrows.

Keep your match dry,
Make a spark in the darkness.