Very Old Poems
Angels
With beautiful, silken wings
And live way up in Heaven
In a haven full of trees
I'd fly around the kingdom,
Riding a beam of light
And watch my friends
Who live on Earth
To see if they're alright
I'd be a perfect angel
Obeying every rule
And if I really had to
I'd even go to school
I'd make some friends and keep them
They'd never be hurt nor teased
For even in the city of peace
Friends are what we really need.
1987 April Heine
If Anybody's Out There
listening to my prayer,
First off, I'd like to thank you,
for you're the only one who cares.
My parents tongues are slashing-
shattering all my dreams
At times I'd like to curse them;
at others, just to scream.
They say my plans are stupid
They say that I'm a snob...
I fear they're right and then we fight
and afterwards, I'd like to sob.
My fathers hansd are brutal,
they hurt with every strike.
He calls my brother lots of names:
We'd like to take a hike!
I know they've got their problems
but so do the kids they borne...
I wish they'd stop and think
before they hit- Before they scorn.
1989 April Heine
Regrets
like broken glass
because my friendships
could not last
My devious ways
broke their hearts-
their loving selves
torn apart
Special nights
spent friend to friend
now are lost:
Gone with the wind.
If I coul go
back in time
know my mistakes
stop them in time
I wouldnt've hurt you
like I did
but what's done is done
what's said is said.
Time travel's not possible
I wish that weren't true.
I would do it all over again
for you....
for us.
1991 April Heine
Niawa
Earth is born: day, night and noons.
Primitive creatures, made from the earth:
Man and woman, holy births'.
The heavens shine above with war
Demons roam the world in scorn
The evil god wants to reign
Niawa fights, balance maintains.
Water tumbles from the sky
Most man and creature have, hence, died.
The world is cleansed, no more askew.
The demons buried, life starts anew...
Not true...
1989 April Heine
I was planning on writing a Dragonlance-style story, which this poem inspired, but I never got anywhere with it lol
Cave Hell
the time that we shared
still longing to do more
and willing to dare.
We experienced good,
survived the bad,
We froze and fought
But we'll always be on top.
Never-ending tunnels,
ever-lasting tears
We'll say farewell to sorrows
We'll throw away our fears.
I hear a whistle blowing
Only time will tell
We'll be in a box-car rolling,
Somewhere between here and hell.
(To Quint, Hawk and W.D. May your adventures never end and your love never die... and may your lives be fun and youthful forever.)
11-07-91 April Heine
Written when I ran away from home the second and last time. I lived, for a week, under the street in a huge drainage tunnel. Even though I lived in Pensacola, FL, it was terribly cold.
My boyfriend, at the time, helped keep me hidden and brought me smokes and food... and he would tell stories about running off with his friend Quint, exploring the world and living off their wits as "men of mystery". Of course, we were just 17 years old so it was all a crock lol, but they made for some good times and better memories.
Suicide
Or never born
What would today be like?
Today'd be better
And filled with laughter
If I would take a hike.
The pain inside
My loved ones hearts
Would be taken to sea as by tide
If I was dead
Or never born.
But I live on
So does the pain
I wish to take from them.
I'm the cause of all that pain-
Tell 'ya somethin'?
My death is the answer
For peace and tranquil
The end to confusion
The end to up-hills.
There's only one thing
Left to do:
To end my life
And bring it back in you.
1990 April Heine
[And thus truly began the angst of an overly emotional 16 year old girl]
Death, in the name of Happiness
My sadness lies deeper than the
darkest pits of Hell
All I've hurt, I could not tell
I am geting my fair and just desserts
I should be killed with the other perps.
My man of steels heart of glass
I have shattered
Nothing but his happiness now seems to matter.
I told one vicious lie
a million times
So our relationship, presently, declines.
I cannot live without him,
this is true,
So there is only one thing
left for me to do...
Don't expect me to "come around".
A life for death is where I'm bound.
With the gun I hold
in my shaking, ugly hand
His unhappiness will go away
At my most fatal end.
Don't bother burying me
I should be fed to the
Rest of the vultures.
1992 April Heine
The reason for this poem can easily be summed up thus:
boyfriend: "You're on the pill, right?"
me: "Yep."
the cosmos: " **BEEP** Wrong answer!!"