Every Day Under the Sun

We laughed. We danced. We lay
in the bright green grass glowing with Life.
The Sun watched us.
It smiled at us, warming our souls and bringing
us closer together. We lived peacefully,
you and I.
We bathed in the stream and played in the trees.
Life was simple,
as we were alone, with no evils to haunt us,
and though there was no Hatred,
there was Love.
And though there was no Sorrow,
there was Happiness.
Though there was no Darkness,
there was Light.
We had no Religion, Society.
All we had was the endless sky above us
and each other,
and we were happy,
as we spent every day under the Sun.

poem by Zoe Guillory
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The Domino Effect

A flame licked at a single domino.
And that single domino fell.
Just that one.
It leaned against the one before it,
and it was held in the air.
But only for a moment.
Soon, every single black-and-white
domino was fallen in the gray dust.
A cloud of Time rested on top.
And a steady hand came.
With a new set of dominoes,
each one a different shade
of gray.
The lint built up.
And this lint was soon on fire;
the flame licked at a single domino.
This domino fell.
As did the others.
But they were replaced as they lay
under the dust of Time.

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poem by Zoe Guillory
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His Dream

The rustle of leaves,
The patter of tiny feet,
The whisper of the river,
The stillness of the air,
The squeak of little creatures,
The flap of feathered wings.
These are the things
That surround him.
He gazes beyond his world
And wonders how
These beauties came to be.
Everything is music to him,
Though not to us all.
Some say that he is insane,
That he doesn't hink straight,
But they don't understand
The ways of his mind.
He dreams of days
Where everyone would enjoy
The simple bliss of life itself.

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poem by Zoe Guillory
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The Memory Place

Shelves tower over me; crowed with bound pages
of events, people, places, ideas.
Of memories.
Of captured feelings pressed like flowers between the pages;
for people to be inspired by someone else's words.

My eyes caress the titles printed on bright spines
as I run my fingers across
what holds the memories together.
I pick up a book, turning yellowed pages,
the scent of gentle time traveling to my nose.
I close my eyes and smile:
it brings back memories of my own,
but these pages are not for me.

I put back the soft bundle of pages
and continued to search in the Memory Place
until I find my own belonging among the words.

poem by Zoe Guillory
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Hollow

I sit alone at the edge
of a bench, watching the children
as they laugh
and play.
And they run past me
as I smile back and laugh
with their small voices
and wet hair in their eyes.
And they call me their friend,
as they see me often.
I often sit alone on that bench.
In the dust at the corner
of the sunlit park.
With a sagging tree
just over my head,
dappling my clothes
and shading my eyes
from the sun.
Until I stayed the night.
The sun was shooed

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poem by Zoe Guillory
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The Lost People of a Peaceful Place

I sit quietly under the trees, staring at my barrier of leaves.
They whisper against each other, telling me the stories
of a long-forgotten past. Of a world many generations ago,
that housed a very different people.
A people close to Nature.
A people that was kicked out of their beautiful home
to be moved along the Trail of Tears like cattle.
To be put through the suffereing no man should dream of inflicting.
They left without a trace.
Staring at these trees, one would never guess that this place
used to be the home of quiet, peaceful people.
One would never guess how happy these people could be
without mandatory luxories that they never imagined.

poem by Zoe Guillory
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The Loner

You turn your face towards the sun,
hoping that it will warm you.
And yet, your back is to the moon,
but you don't try to change it.
You pray that your smile
will make a suffecient mask,
but that it may have a crack,
and someone could see the tears.
They'd offer you help,
just as you wanted,
and they'd insist upon it.
But you would simply turn
from them, towards the moon,
and wait for someone better.
Do you believe that they will come?
There must be a glimmer inside you,
however small it may be.
Like a snowflake.
The only one left.
A single fiber of hope

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poem by Zoe Guillory
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Dying Stars

Ans so we lay there, under the dark sky, waiting
for the Sun to wake up the world. We were drifting
apart, but we still held hands and I watched the stars die
as you watched the Sun being born. And no one spoke.
You had so many things to say to make everything better,
but I just wanted you to leave and forget about everything.
Life would go on, and we could go on,
for I could not keep pretending to miss you
when you were gone and love you when you were around.

When all the stars were gone, so were you,
but I stayed and stared at the sky. It was blue now;
an even, perfect blue with a blotch of bright yellow.
I smiled up at that sky, and it seemed to smile back.

poem by Zoe Guillory
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Death

Though the world
just beyond the darkness
in which the girl was
curled up was unreachable,
she often wondered
how to escape the evil heart
of such a monster.
How terrible it is to live in-
to be trapped in-
the chamber of someone
whose face is never seen,
whose voice is never heard.
She shoved herself deeper
into her corner,
trying desperately to peer
through the thick black ink,
half-praying that she
could meet the monster,
half-praying that it
would keep its distance.

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poem by Zoe Guillory
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Your Chamber of Memory

A house for the dead who are not dead.
A cage, a prison where you hold your abusers.
Beautiful on the outside. Inviting.
Like a mansion, welcoming and decorated.
But if I were to take a peak inside,
even if only for a moment,
I would spot the trap, yet never
would I be able to escape it.
You'd pull me in with a firm grasp,
for you never forget the insult.
All these people here, all these moments.
What have they done to be forever damned,
to be reduced to heartless corpses
and shredded canvases, abandonned
and forgotten by all but you.
All of your experiences, all of your life's flawed
occurrences, rotting away, then being blown away
with all the other dust
in you elephantine memory.

poem by Zoe Guillory
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