| This is a page of poetry and portions of songs I've written over the past several years. Please do not take anything from this page without my permission. It's just not nice, and it's against the law- read the bottom portion of the page. Most of my friends will ask what inspires me to write each particular piece. I like to share stories with the band I work for also- it's fun to learn the inspiration behind music that is created by my friends. So, I've offered a little of that here for you as well (very little), in case you might find it interesting. As you can see, I'm most often inspired by friends and by the men in my life :) |
| Clarity? Your hands were touching your face Yes, I know what that means I asked you for clarity You said you don't know your place I know it's me, the one who's not impressed But the fact rubs off and I'm stuck with this mess I don't like this dance, I'd kill for some truth You try to seem uncertain but your motions deceive you I see them waving but they don't see us It's that couple at Wake Street they're wishing for How long has it been since they were here? Twenty days, probably more I have scars from your implication, it's tearing away at me But in truth, my own desperation is what kills me All I asked for was clarity But I see you're still touching your face..... Wake Street, how long has it been? I can't even remember if I should miss it -Melissa Inspired by a boyfriend I left behind when the lead singer of the band I work for found me. |
| Forgotten Do you remember how to be a child? When your biggest concerns are what games you'll play When you don't know why the sun moves across the sky Or why the moon is orange sometimes When you don't even notice the color of your neighbor's skin When you wonder if you will ever be able to fly And wish you could be a tiger when you grow up Life is so simple if we allow it to be Life was good at age three -Melissa January, 1997 |
| The Goddess I heard her calling me Her voice was a whisper on the North wind Beckoning me to the far corner of the Earth Across the red soil of the land I've grown to love I felt the heat of her body below my feet I felt the coolness of her breath as it brushed my cheek I saw her face in the sky above me Round and bright and beautiful I have seen her before, how familiar she seems I have heard her voice and felt her warmth Why did I not answer her? Did I turn my back on her then? Now I feel her love and she seems to understand I'm different now, things are much clearer to me I realize her power, I have finally found my home -Melissa My first trips to Australia |
| Forged My Life I found a sword, created by someone else's mind Forged in fire and perfectly refined Meant to dispel darkness and persuade light Meant to carve out the mysteries of another's life I took the sword, I made it my own It's edges I redefined, it's appearance honed It's qualities remained bound and true But it's purpose I altered, with precision through Now shines my sword, graceful is it's span Carves out out a glimpse of where my path began Takes me back to the time where my innocence took flight A sword to carve out the mysteries of my life -Melissa |
| The Rope We all are here but are desperately blind Feeling our way with our hands and minds Suffering with the knowledge we possess We're unable to unleash it, unable to manifest How can we change it if we can't see? We weren't made this way, we were given this deep, black infinity We were taught restrictions, learned restraint Taught there are limits to what we create How do we un-learn what we were taught to be? Do we live with who we are or cling to possibility? We're adorned with blood from confinement's suffocating rope If we could open our eyes, would we see a horizon of hope? -Melissa |
| When In Sydney So many others you could have chosen But you walked straight to me You saw through every soul in this place What was it that turned your head? What was it that drew you here? What do you want with a regular like me? Someone so known and important as you You say I'm different You mention beauty but how do I compare To all the beauty someone like you has seen out there? Tonight I am lost Your eyes are what took me Your voice, speaking words meant only for me We had just a week and now I depart When I return to this place, you say you'll be waiting But why for me? So many others you could have chosen But you walked straight to me -Melissa For my buddy, Russ- more than just a buddy. He is one reason for the life I now lead and the places I go. |
| Trust Michael, I'm listening Your voice is my pillow Your words keep me sane The emptiness is below me, I'm certain My future rests in your grasp Your hands, I will never forget Strong and beautiful, they hold fast to mine I'm still listening.... You comfort me I wonder will you leave when you know I'm okay It's something I can't ask, but I think it I feel you moving, pulling... I'm saved I can still hear your voice And I see I'm still embraced by your hands -Melissa Michael taught me how it feels to trust someone- September, 2001 |
| Out West They never imagined I would long for change I never imagined I would accept it I was satisfied with what we were I was comfortable with them, with the music that played It's so far away, new people, new land My new friends are now old, left behind for a moment 'Will this make you happy?' they asked It seems that way, I assured them There was something taking me....drawing me from my place 'Why must you go?' they would ask me once more Because a boy with Latin eyes is smiling at me -Melissa |
| Poetry |
| Bradon He's walking on the broken glass that is the life he was given I would say the one he's chosen but it wasn't his choice to make Another spider spun the web that's sticking to his skin It unravels itself sometimes if he imagines hard enough He looks up at the sky- the restriction placed on his thoughts Hallucinations of what could've been torture him a while Uninvited feelings rule the shadows in his brain Put there by a substance- and maybe by his father At 18, he has the look of a man, but is vulnerable as a child Starts thinking maybe he's better off asleep... The thought of hurting his friends kills him before it's done But the hurt his father will feel might make it all worthwhile He sinks... There's no tunnel and no light, no spiritual meaning to his name. -Melissa Inspired by my dear friend, Bradon, who ended his life before it really began. |
| ALL contents of this page are COPYRIGHT © 2001 Melissa Crowe. Legal action may ensue if copyright is infringed. |
| Torn Michael, why do I look away? My spirit is torn as I feel your stare I face the one who was quick, who tricked my heart He keeps me here, says we make magic and that our spirits flow I stand here between you...... The grass below my feet reminds me of your skin.... Soft and comforting- I must not think it, my heart is with him... With the one who holds my hand The way he looks at me reminds me of your smile.... Friendly, loving, true- I must not think it, I'm bound by "love"... Love of another who holds my hand When I see his face, I remember yours.... Beautiful, perfect, patient- Why do you wait for me, Michael? I can't turn to you, never look into your eyes.... My heart will give in to you -Melissa Mike has quite an effect on my life. -November, 2001 |
| Still Feeling Strong Constant I trust.... Lucid Enchanting I want.... Beautiful Dare I say perfect? Insufferable emotions... An inadequate connection That keeps me from you I am here You are too Yet you are there My insensate moves...keep you at bay I am drawn, I refuse you, why? An obligation Is it really? My heart knows....no love with him If not love, why do I stay? Am I mistaken? Do I love you? -Melissa Yes, Michael again- November, 2001 |
| Make Up My Mind I'm shrinking in my leather chair I'm leather in my shrinking chair No, I'm not analyzing the situation, you are Wooden matches form words, glowing tips tell me....what you meant to say but never did Nod your head yes, shake your head no....pretend you had nothing to say Short words....long thoughts, I learn to adapt Moon waxes......eyes open Moon wanes......eyes close -Melissa May, 2001 |
| Abyss My eyes.....like windows to my soul I reveal myself, I feel no shame What says this of me? Am I confident? Does my soul seek attention, am I weak? Maybe I'm broken, am I working? Correct it.... To fix is to preserve existence If it lasts, I go insane, yet maybe I'll find love? Maybe I'm already gone, maybe I've already found it You look deep and see what I am Undaunted.....uncertain I have matured.....I am a child -Melissa |