Paperweight Poetry

thin, ink written stars, on a papyrus sky, tight, silver knit buttons on a blue velvet sky, different skies, different ways that things are, but what bonds them as one, is that they all have the stars. -anna sluder

Do I live by my own words that I say?  Or are they only echoes, sirens caught in the wind,  Do I listen to my own sermon, and humble my ways,  Or am I just as black as the guilt of those who've sinned?  -anna sluder 

The stars are calling my name But out of all the reasons why The purpose of their taunting whispers Is that the stars are calling me to die.  -anna sluder 

A thousand eyes, stars, a thousand windows to our souls A place I can see with, but not see into  A thousand dreamlike moments, where in the same instant I have gained and lost my soul, again and again Into the wilderness of eyes, the islands of stars The place far off that can see us, yet we cannot see  And you find that eyes and stars and the instantaneous moments and the slowing of time  Is the enigma of this life for when it makes a mystery of ourselves, we burn into fate as myths  And that scares us like hell, is not the skin over my veins and bones true?  So we tell ourselves anything proven unknown cannot be real  But I am your evidence, I am the proven theory Explore the cirrus clouds of my eyes, and know that I am real  Alive to contradict the mystery of it all It is no puzzle what's on the other side of eyes, of stars, and of a thousand windows to our souls It is simply and purely another people  Staring futilely into their side, wondering t

He was surprised that she could handle  All the cruelties he will do and say For despite the benefit of the doubt  Even hell looks away.  -anna sluder 

I've seen goodness and I've seen pain I've heard thunderstorms and I've tasted the rain  I know there are men with beautiful and cruel minds But is humankind really kind?  -anna sluder