Raederle's Poetry: Poetry

Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, September 20, 2026

My Perfect

Where is my perfect man?

Where is that perfect man who isn’t too tall, too outdoorsy, or too whiny?

Where is that perfect man of sculpted muscle who oddly prefers to stay home?

Where is that perfect man who craves and enjoys a rear window but isn’t overly obsessed?

Am I maybe looking in the wrong place? Could my perfect person be a woman?

Yet, how could they be my perfect person if they do not possess a cock? Dildos do not feel the same. There would be no biofeedback about how she was feeling her strap-on. Yet would that matter if her fingers were deft, her lips were soft, and her heart mine to traverse?

Where is that perfect person who will worship me, find me beautiful, constantly drink in the sight of me, and yet not love me (only) for my appearance?

Where is my perfect person who will stretch my boundaries, make me grow, and yet not leave me wounded or anxious?

Where is that perfect person who speaks touch, knows the power of their fingers, and knows the difference between a caress and a stroke? Where is that perfect, embodied person who yet possesses focus, intellect, and subtle nuance?

Where is that perfect mind that can listen deeply, understand profoundly, elaborate satisfactorily, and yet also have their own divine inspirations which captivate and pull at the limits of my capacity for gnosis?

Where is that perfect person who I would love to the brink of a black hole? Someone who is deeply grounded in curated values and strong integrity. Someone with whom mutual transparency comes naturally – without either of us thinking less of one another as a result.

Where is that perfect heart which can hold space like an empty container, yet express itself like an overflowing bowl of juicy grapes, exploding with flavor – both sweet and sour?

Where is my perfect mate who would feel complete even if we sit in total silence, appreciating all that we have shared together?

Where is that perfect person who can be all of themselves with all of me?

Where is my perfect match who would make me fall in love?

— Raederle Phoenix

September 20th 2026

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Bridge & Fence

by Raederle Phoenix

I’ll never get over you,

and all the things you do.

You’ll never get over me,

and all that we could be.

We’re twin flames,

so who’s to blame

when we set each other burning?

My stomach is churning,

trying to digest my leaden heart

as it comes time for us to part.

Your words set me on fire;

Parchment on a live wire.

My loneliness withered away

on the first special day

you curled around me

and spoke so vulnerably.

You made me so glad

I got insomnia from smiling.

Now you make me so sad

I get insomnia from filing

your every act.

You must be an acrobat

to be so close and distant,

wise and infant.

You’re cruel and kind,

sharp and blind.

You’re clever and dense,

both bridge and fence.

We’re twin flames,

both burning with shame.

We’re twin flames,

both to blame

for the red flags ignored.

With you I’m never bored;

we choose to play

and sweep our dismay

beneath a rug of denial,

dyed in hues of hope,

woven in ways we cope.

Your dimples dust glitter,

erasing memories bitter.

Your laughter lights glow,

melting heavy snow.

Your dancing casts glamor,

yet your words shatter

the illusion that we align.

God, give me a sign;

Is it finally time?

Is it final this time?

Can I hold on another day

to face another heartbreak?

Can he hold on another season?

Is that beyond all reason?

Can we hold on another year?

If we do, I fear

that our fire will burn us up;

nothing but ashes in our cup.

Raederle Phoenix

April 17th 2024

For Laszló

These lyrics are the original work of Raederle Phoenix West. You may share them digitally for non-commercial purposes, as long as full credit is given and the text remains unaltered. Any commercial use, performance, or adaptation requires written permission.

Monday, December 13, 2021

Soulmates

by Raederle Phoenix

My soul-mate is

Neither chauvinist nor feminist

Neither democrat nor republican

Neither religious nor atheist

Neither hermit nor politician

My soul-friend is

Both spiritual and scientific

Both judgmental and accepting

Both radical and conservative

Both relaxed and demanding

My soul-mates are

Neither inclusionary nor exclusionary

Neither slow nor hurried

Neither staid nor revolutionary

Neither activists nor nihilist

My soul-friends are

Both romantic and authentic

Both creative and analytical

Both vulnerable and firm

Both innocent and wise

My soul family is

Made up of those rare gems

Who do not gather in group-think

Who do not ally among invented dichotomies

Who instead

Observe with their multi-sensory being

The truth as best as they can discern it

Living with loyalty

to their

Ever-evolving

Personally-verified

Multi-faceted

Truths

Raederle Phoenix

December 13th 2021

Monday, January 30, 2012

Free Me From Fear

I am angry with you,

Because I’m afraid that you’re right.

I am angry with you,

Because I’m afraid that you’ll leave.

I am angry with you,

Because I’m afraid of myself.

I am feeling sad today,

Because I am afraid of tomorrow.

I am feeling sad today,

Because I am afraid of yesterday.

I am feeling sad today,

Because I’m afraid to fade away.

You are making me jealous,

Because I’m afraid you love her more than me.

You are making me jealous,

Because I’m afraid that she’s prettier to see.

You are making me jealous,

Because I’m afraid that you’ll set me free.

I have been struck sick,

Because I’m afraid about finances,

I have been struck sick,

Because I’m afraid of losing friends,

I have been struck sick,

Because I’m afraid.

You have forgiven me,

and I feel love.

You have given me truth,

and I feel love.

You have smiled with me,

and I feel love.

I accepted your forgiveness.

I have forgiven myself.

I accepted your truth.

I have found truth within myself.

I accepted your smile.

Now I smile for myself.

You showed me love,

and I freed myself from fear.

I am not afraid.

I live love.

~ Raederle Phoenix

January 2012

Inspired by the book “The Mastery of Love”

Originally posted in my Art Phoenix blog.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Obvious Conspiracy

by Raederle Phoenix

Are you taking pills for your chronic illness?

Wondering when you’ll make it to wellness?

Don’t worry about the fee,

Medicaid can poison you for free.

Paying for conventional treatments?

Food Is Medicine.

But... Trust your prescription,

Obey the directions,

Can’t get an erection,

That’s just a minor side effect.

Like the minor insects,

That die when they eat the genetically modified plants.

Once we were hunters and gathers,

Now we’re fat sheep and gamers.

Who needs rain forests or top soil?

Who cares about tortured ecosystems that toil?

We’re just hungry for another steroid-packed burger,

Let’s modify the genes of the cows and take it further.

When you’re feeling like you have the flu,

But the doctor says there is nothing wrong with you,

Here’s what he doesn’t tell you;

Snapple isn’t made from apples.

Doritos, Fritos, Cheetos and burritos –

These toxins aren’t tame.

Packaging, pricing and pretty frames,

Designed to trick you into eating aspartame.

It reads that it’s sugar free: What about poison free?

And isn’t Splenda safe? Wouldn’t you chafe – If I told you that’s another lie?

It’s much worse than a stir fry; As bad as getting high.

Speaking of which,

Here is another hitch;

Tooth rot often comes from smoking pot,

As well as receding gums,

But cheer up chums,

It’s still better than smoking tar,

That you’ll find in every cigar.

But go ahead and drink your pop,

Explain to me that it’s too expensive to stop.

Water is practically free,

While candy offers you nothing for its fee.

But excuse me while I point out,

What health is all about:

Living, giving, and growing stronger,

It’s not just about living longer.

Who wants to live forever,

In pain, or in misery?

I’d rather be history!

I want to feel good after every meal,

And not have to suffer and feel...

Guilty or bloated or full of gas,

Or wonder how much I’ve added to my mass.

Health is quality of life;

Eliminating pain and strife.

Who cares about the quantity of days?

It’s only the joy of each moment that pays.

Life is for joy, delight, warmth and fuzziness.

Have you considered the enemies of life and happiness?

Hurts, hernias, headaches, haziness;

Cankers, cancer, coughs, clogs;

Gas, gall-stones, gastritis, gout;

Medical bills for ambulance routes.

What could be more expensive

Than a life not well lived?

Eat collards, cucumbers and cabbage.

Eat cilantro, celery and soaked seeds.

Eat organic, or better;

eat weeds.

They’re packed with enzymes;

In packaged food – removed,

A crime – of modern times.

You don’t have to give up everything sweet;

There are mangoes, tomatoes, and berries;

Watermelon, apples, oranges and cherries.

Figs, plums, prunes and dates,

You can change now, it’s never too late!

You don’t have to go hungry.

Natural items come in sundry.

Leave the calorie quandary,

Enter the quantity of quality,

That comes with internal harmony.

You are what you eat.

Fancy being concrete?

Eating margarine?

You must think it fantastic to be made of plastic.

I’d be rather be a bloom.

I prefer a habitable womb.

Take the time to contemplate,

What happens when we consummate.

Our genes, which are altered throughout our lives,

Are passed down into the new generation.

They’re being born directly into constipation.

The media has a clear function: information corruption.

It’s time to stop the false information circulation,

This corrupt and blatant manipulation.

Change the crude regulations,

and require labels listing poisons in our nation!

In Europe; packages display vital information,

Including ingredients with genetic modification.

Foods changed to allow for better transportation.

Monotonous monocrops managed by massive corporations,

Trying to twist and turn nature to their profitable operation.

Malicious mendacious maneuvering and modification

Resulting in toxic residue and dreadful degradation.

This isn’t progress in the food industry,

This is the world’s most obvious conspiracy.

~ Raederle Phoenix

[2009-2011]

A new poem/song was inspired from these words and concepts. A few of the lines are the same. Check out the new edition: The Price of Silence

Friday, April 3, 2009

I Want

I want; I need:
You give; You Have.
By Raederle Phoenix

2009-2010

I need the essential sensuality,
I want the perfect personality.
I'll show you my hospitality,
If you'll treat me gentlemanly.

I'll give you love as your reward,
So don't come looking for awards.
My home isn't your personal ward,
Bring your sanity if you can afford

To buy me flowers and dinner,
For a true sign take this as a glimmer
Of hope, don't fret about being a sinner,
If you want to be the real winner;

Take me to the real girl parks,
Roller coasters and vicious snarks,
Hide behind the bushes for a quick lark,
with all your affection, sure to hit the mark.

I don't want Gucci or Gabbana,
You see what I really wanna
Have is your time, perhaps in a sauna.
Give me real food and a Honda.

Give me your essential sensuality,
Show me your perfect personality,
I'll give you all my honesty, my loyalty,
My love, kisses and all of my vitality.

Because I'm an old fashioned girl,
I want to clean and cook swirls.
I'll wear my hair straight or in curls,
Whatever you dare, that's how it unfurls.

I'm not in this for gluttony,
I want to be inside your discovery,
Of a girl unafraid of fantasy,
For your love, you get ecstasy.

I'm looking for some inspiration,
Hard work and perspiration,
Be my muse for my creations,
The cause of all my elation.

Have no fear of betrayal,
Things won't ever get stale,
As long as we're learning together,
There's no reason for this to fail.

By Raederle Phoenix
2009-2010

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Nothing but Names

By Raederle Phoenix

2007-2009

I am your lover, your slave.

I’m a typical woman to my grave.

I’m a bitch and a brat,

I’m as slick as a cat.

I’m pretty and plain, not fat.

I’m a trickster, not to be trusted.

You say a lot, until my heart is busted.

Held up so high, burned down and defy;

On praise and joy, yet another ploy.

I’m a lover, a slave, a liar to the grave.

I’m a bitch, a brat, a player, a cat.

I’m stupid, retarded, demented, twisted.

I’m the girl next door, nevermore.

Plain as the rain, easily slain.

You like me like this, you like me in pain.

I have everything to lose, everything to gain.

Go ahead, call me one more name.

I’m a lover, a slave, a bitch to the grave.

I’m a brat, a trickster, a woman, and I crave.

I’m stupid, twisted, demented, retarded.

I’m dirty. I’m crazy. I’m flirty. I’m lazy.

I’m a typical, lying bitch; words hazy.

A snake, a sliver, totally untrustworthy.

I’m alone picking a daisy.

He loves me, he love me not.

He loves me... Fuck – He loves me not.

I’m a girl, a babe, a sweety, a shorty.

I’m a brat, I’m a bitch, it’s all the same.

How come I’m nothing despite all my names?

By Raederle Phoenix West

2007-2009

👉🏻 Note: This was written about a specific relationship that I was in from 2007 to 2009 with my third love. This poem was demonstrating how I took on the names he called me, and what it did to my self-esteem to be treated that way. These are not representations of how I ever actually believed myself to be. It's a performance, a poem, to represent an emotional experience. 🙏🏻

Monday, December 18, 2006

Dread

Dread
by Raederle Phoenix
2006-2007

One-hundred-percent dread,

Drumming to the beat of the dead,

Humming to this emotion fed,

Crumbs, the feeling in your bed,

Fluff the pillow, lay your head;

Down and feel the anticipation;

Foreboding and lack of concentration,

Holding onto a glass of fermentation,

Forwarding the path of procrastination,

Folding into a pattern of degradation.

I’m sauntering on a path of bleak mud,

I’m walking with creak and thud,

I am sinking deeper into this crud.

I’m circling a stale expectation of;

Grooving to a silent sickness that curdles my blood.

~Raederle Phoenix
2006-2007

Note: I was sixteen when I wrote this and experimenting with multi-rhymes (bleak mud / creak and thud) wherever I could fit them in. I was also in arguably the darkest period of my life. I'd been through a house fire, a move, a violent on-and-off relationship, drug experimentation, suicidal urges, and a desperation to find something better for myself. Thankfully, I did. But the darkness in this poem reflects that period of my life and how it felt.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Communal Wood

Communal Wood
By Raederle Phoenix
2006-2011

I want to rise at eleven,

in an elegant cottage in a wood,

and kickback by seven,

in a place too warm for a hood.

I want to live in a real community,

where everyone is listening,

built around the trees and into small clearings,

where I’d lounge in the breeze never fearing.

I want to live in loving situations,

no smelly gas stations,

no crime situations, drugged sensations,

evil temptations, meaningless salutations,

degradations, and one night relations.

Yes, I want to live where it’s sunny,

and where no one laughs when it’s not funny.

I want to live where I can stop feeling crummy,

a place that doesn’t rely on paper money.

I want to live in a cream organic village,

where no one would dream of theft or pillage;

I want to live where everyone stops to smile,

with hot springs, berry plots, wits, and wiles.

I want to live where there are horses without fleas,

where everyone has dreams and dirty knees,

where nobody needs keys, or master degrees,

where no one ever forgets to say “please.”

I want to live without fear of demise,

I want to live where no one ever cries,

and instead of all of these sad funerals,

we’ll have grand parties when one dies.

I want to live where I can hold my head high,

where everyone is gullible, because no one ever lies.

If everything were left to my whim,

I’d take down everything grim,

and replace it with beauty,

and cover the world with a flowered trim.

I want to live,

in a quiet little town,

where all can give,

with no mechanical sounds.

Let’s live off the land.

Let’s live where love is all that’s grand.

Let’s live where gold is like sand,

with none of society’s bold demands.

Let’s live without oil, trouble, and toil.

Let’s live without greed, toxins, and addictive needs.

Let’s live without politics, bloods, and crypts.

Let’s move somewhere far away,

Let’s run to where I’d never say,

“I wish it could move somewhere sunny…

Somewhere where my nose was never runny.”

By Raederle Phoenix
April 2006 – January 2011

Minor Edits on April 21st 2025

Previously titled: Forest Community

Tuesday, January 3, 2006

Drum Beat

By Raederle Phoenix

2006 (Senior Year of Highschool)

The beat of the drum
Is the beat in my soul
Is the beat that my feet
Have learned to step to

The beat of my heart
Is the beat in my soul
Is the beat that my feet
Have learned to move to

The beat of the drum
Is the beat in my heart
Is the beat of my feet
As I dance around the fire

The beat of the drum
Is the beat of the fire
Is the beat of my feet
As I dance, and I sire.

— Raederle Phoenix

I wrote this in 2006 when I was a senior in high school. I was experimenting with just how rhymical I could make the words. I was particularly imagining djembe drums, which I fell in love with the very first time I heard them.

Rain

Rain
by Raederle Phoenix
2006: Senior Year

Raindrops are doomed to fall,
On hot spots where I can call,
A new genesis on the prowl,
To stop and hold still, just stall.

Just like all the wanders of the past,
Who withered, and didn't last,
Who felt small in the long shadows cast;
The masters of the beautiful, the stained glass.

And even though it's very late,
You can still set a new date,
For this new generation's fate,
We're all here just to wait.

And we're waiting in this rain,
And we're feeling all this pain,
Ignored, forming a new stain,
That is doomed to forever remain.

I'm in this teen denomination,
soon to be the working generation.
Starved of the real truth from creation,
by the mass appeal of the nation.

Youths taking E and Blow for elation,
getting these kids on probation,
such a sorry situation,
the illiteracy of this generation.

Even though this is modern democracy,
We all call this blatant hypocrisy,
And they all think it's their legacy,
Their right to a subjective dynasty.

We know the truth, all the lies,
We spread the truth in our cries,
All this deceit, it needs to die,
We need government in which we can rely.

And so there are those who speak out,
And then there are others in doubt,
But it's time to get up and shout,
Oil, money, and greed is not what life is a about!

So grow your own food,
Toss this paper money, crude,
Be nice, don't be rude,
Recycle and keep a good mood.

Because this is for the poor,
Who deserve so much more.
Because this is for the gay,
Who show us that love is love, either way.

Because this is for the Jews,
Who were taken from their houses,
Locked up and killed like mouses,
Who were stripped of their rights,
And killed if they were to fight.

So it's time to stand up for what's right,
It's time to stand up and fight,
With every single ounce of might;
Before they lock us up 'n' shut off the lights.

By Raederle Phoenix
2006

This poem was written when I was seventeen years old and just beginning to learn about the world. I was full of frustration and writing was (and is) my primary outlet. I performed this poem in school when I wrote it and at many open mics in the years that followed.

Thursday, November 3, 2005

Beyond Reality

Beyond Reality
by Raederle Phoenix
2005-2010

Anxiety,
standing before society,
watching the confusion,
observing the diffusion,
coming to crying-conclusions

from your high-solutions
and dying-delusions.
Here you sigh,
cause you don’t wanna here my—
anthem, my mottos,
stuck in the ghetto

without the fro,
without the flow,
knowing

you want me to go.

Speaking,
defy your wishes of my sleeping,
let me spring something deep,
let it creep,
and crawl into you,
sprawl into your mind—
drawl and unwind.
You’ll find that I’m not as blind

as your stereotypes prove.
Hearing, “dyke move,”

n’ “you’re cool, but you ain’t got no groove.”

I’ll take the brunt of it,

fronts full of it.
Rage rising,
and turn the page,
and at this stage

fire pours out of a hole in time,
a gap that is mine,
a void, a sign.

Sign of change,
out of this derange

will come a reprieve for the repressed—

thoughts fighting to be expressed.
It’s a mess out there,
but under the hair,
the skull,
inside the mind,
you can find,
something worth saying,
something worth praying for,
something more,
for humans as a whole to endure

and come to adore.
Let the beauty of it soar,
because this is what I’m here for.

The flames from the void grow.
It has no vocabulary,

it’s sedentary,
but it knows all the words,
and burns brightly in each being,
each organism comprised

of these atomic

particles of truth.

You can’t touch it,
you can’t grok it,
and yet you are it.

Lights and energies,
with no enemies,
no wars,
nothing before,
nothing after,
no time,
nothing to find.

This perfect communication,
is the worlds salvation.
It’s been here since before creation,
and it lives in divination,
with a huge deviation.

Misplaced, erased and defaced

this common familiarity
and replaced it with sincerity
and intensity
of this discrepancy
that would be so easily avoided if you could see what I see,
and discuss over some bud tea.

No more one way conversations,
as comes true communication,
and substantial salutations.

This wordscape of perfection is made of energies,
lights so bright,
something beyond mortal sight,
beyond this physical fights.
This is something really quite spectacular,
this is the universal vernacular.

– Raederle Phoenix

Note: This was originally written in 2005 when was a junior in high school. It presents a stream-of-consciousness experience of how I felt about school, my life, and my newfound perception of energy-patterns behind everything which was said. It was a universal language – or a universal vernacular. I was inspired by this experience and thus attempted to capture it in a poem.

This poem/song/rap is the original work of Raederle Phoenix West.

You may share it digitally for non-commercial purposes,

as long as full credit is given and the text remains unaltered.

Any commercial use, performance, or adaptation requires written permission.

Saturday, October 8, 2005

Can’t Relate

by Raederle Phoenix

2005: Junior Year

You probably can’t relate,

You probably think I’m outspoken,

You’ll probably be late,

You’ll probably leave me broken.

It’s not okay. I’m not well.

I’m alone and miserable.

And you can’t even tell.

I know you can’t relate,

I know you think I’m outspoken,

You are always late,

You always leave me broken.

It’s never okay and never well.

I’m alone and so miserable.

Can’t you tell?

You don’t relate.

You’ve left me broken.

You’re too late.

I’ve already spoken.

I’m okay, I’m well.

You’re alone, you’re miserable.

Revenge was inevitable,

Couldn’t you tell?

— Raederle Phoenix

2005 (Age 16)

This poem is the original work of Raederle Phoenix West. You may share them digitally for non-commercial purposes, as long as full credit is given and the text remains unaltered. Any commercial use, performance, or adaptation requires written permission.

Tuesday, April 5, 2005

Hood Boo

Hood Boo
by Raederle Phoenix
2005: Junior Year

Note: This poem is written in this style for effect, and is designed to capture an essence of a life that existed at the time it was written, which was when I was a teenager. More notes at the end.

wasting my time, on a dick boo;

he’s sellin’ those great dimes, and nics too;

chewing on sweet lime, and licking the dew;

hearing through the grape-vine, about weed inna bic, true.

he don’t know how it hurts inside, when it all falls through;

he don’t even confide, in his crew;

he don’t ever lie, but he’s never all true;

he’ll make you cry, and make it up to you.

he makes it so I can’t concentrate.

we quake and always debate.

he always making me wait

on the only way I sedate.

he want me to spit, and not read what I writ,

I want ‘em to slip, and dig outta a crypt,

sayin’ I’m not fit with no right knit,

he tells me to shut up and sit.

he talks about big clips, and eating me up,

he lickin’ my sweet ‘lit, and eating it up.

he thinks he’s all that, and a bag of chips,

he calls me hypocrite, while hugging my hips.

he makes it so I can’t concentrate.

with myself I always debate.

he always coming home late,

but he’s the only way I can sedate.

spending my time, on this trick,

he sellin’ the great dime, and a nic,

eating this sour lime, for a lick,

he buying me sweet wine, and making me tick.

awake, I can’t concentrate.

please take away my debate

about whether it’s too late.

but he’s the only way I can sedate.

he don’t know...

but look a little closer,

you will see,

he’s not a poser,

and he loves me.

— Raederle Phoenix

2005

This poem is the original work of Raederle Phoenix West.

You may share them digitally for non-commercial purposes,

as long as full credit is given and the text remains unaltered.

Any commercial use, performance, or adaptation requires written permission.

Notes:

In 2025 I have edited some of the punctuation, changed the title to Hood Boo rather than Hood Relations (which is clearly a better thematic fit), and a few words to help the rhythm flow a little better; but it is mostly unaltered from the original 2005 version written when I was sixteen.

It was inspired by my relationship with my second love, especially the particulars like hiding weed in a pen (bic), and his penchant for half-truths (never all true). I believe it was actually an acquaintance rather than the boyfriend pressuring me to learn to freestyle (spit) rather than writing/reading my (writ) poetry.

This poem was intended to capture more than my own experience, however, and to be more broadly about other girls in my cohort who were in similar relationships which were full of turbulence – yet also intimacy and deep affection.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Teenage Polytheism

Teenage Polytheism
by Raederle Phoenix
2005-2007

Bast has thrown a festival for my piety,

Seth has given me strength for the society,

Venus has brought my love out to pour,

Mars has enlisted me into a holy war!

Whirling, twirling, swirling,

I’m dizzy and I’m curling,

into a ball, because I’m afraid to fall,

and I’m beginning to crawl,

I can’t walk anymore,

I can’t talk like before,

I’m changing, and I’m blaming

you for me never being the same,

and I’m folding this paper into a crane,

the way you move your neck,

to see what I’m about to peck.

this berry, so sweet and red,

I’m twisting, turning, into a new fight,

burning into a new realm of sight,

learning but it’s blurry and hazy,

Have I always been so lazy?

Have I always been so crazy?

I don’t remember being a member

of this December weather.

I don’t know how I always missed the flow,

and was looked on with woe.

I’m inside out, no longer any time to pout.

This is no time to flout.

But let me tell you what this is about...

I’ve made so many mistakes,

bigger than all of the great lakes,

and I’m telling you for goodness sake,

I have finally come to this great wake.

You know what you have seen,

such a blundering silly teen,

but no more of this sippy-cup,

it’s time for me to finally grow up.

By
Raederle Phoenix
2005-2007

Note: I wrote this when I was, of course, a teenager. The first draft comes from 2005 when I was 16, and made a major update in 2007 when I was 18. It would feel wrong to change it much now (in 2025) but I have changed the punctuation a little and took out a word I didn't quite understand back then . . .

Friday, February 4, 2005

The Little Train That Can’t

The Little Train That Can’t
by Raederle Phoenix
2005: Junior Year

I write rants.

I hate pants.

I eat plants.

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t...

I can’t let you know what’s on my mind.

I can’t let you glow, that’s my find.

I can’t let... I can’t...

I’m not the little train that could.

I’m the little train that would.

I’m the little train that should.

I’m the little girl who didn’t.

I’m the whirl that sweeps me down.

I’m the girl that fell to the ground.

I’ve left without swirl or sound.

I’m not a square, I’m quite round.

I’m in this dare to be found.

You can’t find me,

You can’t relate to me...

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t...

You’re the little quirk that said it.

You’re the little squirt that did this.

You’re the cold one with an dark kiss.

I can’t... I won’t... You can’t...

You can’t leave me tonight.

I won’t leave without a fight.

I can’t make you see this right.

I think I should,

I think I would,

I think I can’t,

I think I can’t...

I know I can’t.

I know I can’t,

but I think we could.

— Raederle Phoenix

2005

This poem is the original work of Raederle Phoenix West.

You may share them digitally for non-commercial purposes,

as long as full credit is given and the text remains unaltered.

Any commercial use, performance, or adaptation requires written permission.

Note: Like my other poetry from 2005, I was sixteen at the time. This was partly inspired by my second love, but it was more a general expression that there was magic in togetherness – that believing in oneself was insufficient to achieve all that I wanted. Looking back (in 2025), I can see the beginning threads of much more sophisticated thoughts I expressed much later in essays on community.

Monday, January 3, 2005

Rising From Ashes

Rising From Ashes
by Raederle Phoenix

I know this is really late,
and undoubtedly overdue;
But I finally feel that fate
brought me to do
Something I would hate
just the way I’m supposed to.

And at first I wasn’t certain,
wasn’t sure if it was right
to close the tattered curtain.
Yet in this new line of sight
I have a new perspective,
and the spirits calmed my plight.

I didn’t know if I was ready,
or if I had moved on,
But now that my heart is steady,
I know it’s not a con.
This weight has been heavy
on my heart, but anon:

Hearing the echo of the past,
in contrast to your song,
I’m glad what didn’t last
was making room for us all along.
My heart is beating so fast,
because I know what’s been wrong.

I wasn’t so sure that I had made
the right decision,
With you I was so afraid
that it was short lived collision
Just to make the pain fade,
to repeat my past transitions.

Now I’m so happy I know
that it wasn’t all in vein.
I was conditioned to the snow,
the ice, the callous game,
And you’ve set me free and so
I can be free of this pain.

At times I’ve been unsure,
and doubted my own reasons,
But I have adjusted; I prefer
the rhythm of your seasons,
You’ve got the stir
that I need

to forgive my own treasons.

I sighed in contentment today
as I realized that you’re mine,
I bowed my head down to pray,
for you to be the one I dine
After I walk down the isle one day.
That would be more than okay.

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Fire

Fire
A Spoken Word Poetry Performance by Raederle Phoenix
2004
Written Sophomore Year

I am
dazed with rage and fire
confused like my,
adrenalin’s caged with my left foot in my grave,
the fire on my back-burner has been turned to blaze;
head spinning crazed for days,
my blood runs over burning holes in my cage,
forever and even slowly becoming an eternity...

And now eternity is my certainty to absolutely get the best of me,
as I stand here,
foul and anything but near,
I feel a single tear,
and the only thing I can hear
is my own voice cracking,
slacking and out of tune,
I feel myself backing,
stuck in this new place,
trapped and recapped,
slapped and snapped,
now corrected never quite perfected.
This thought is over dissected,
inaccurately selected,
suggested to just let these words fall directed
to this interjected lack of security and uncertainty.
Will it now get the best of me?

So I’m destroying the cage,
busting out of this maze,
a labyrinth I’ve been stuck in since my early days.
Until the fire in me dies out,
until the child in me cries out,
until I decide to turn the lights out.
I’ll stand here,
right here,
telling all of you my feelings,
to anyone so near,
that happens to hear,
anyone here willing to follow and give me their ears.

So now my only fear,
is left for you all to hear,
is that my words will disappear,
never heard,
thought absurd,
couldn’t be referred,
to the place I belong in,
the place I’m gonna drown in,
the place I will die in,
if only you would listen,
head me,
let me lead thee,
to my place,
with my face,
for your race,
I’ll lend you my grace just so that my rage can be let out of it’s cage
with fire ablaze,
and they’ll hear my rage,
no matter their age.

All so that my fear to disappear wont become reality to challenge me,
destroy me,
and all become too clear that my fear has come true,
right in front of you.
I will disappear and no one will hear.

Yes, in this mess,
a message to hear,
I’m disappearing.
Yes, in this mess,
a message to hear,
I’m disappearing.
Yes, in this mess,
a mess to hear,
I’m disappearing.
Yes, a mess,
a mess to hear,
I’m disappearing.
Yes, a mess,
I’m disappearing.
Yes, I’m
disappearing.
I’m disssssssssss . . .

~ Raederle Phoenix

Sunday, September 20, 2026

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Bridge & Fence

Monday, December 13, 2021

Soulmates

Monday, January 30, 2012

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Obvious Conspiracy

Friday, April 3, 2009

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Nothing but Names

Monday, December 18, 2006

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Tuesday, January 3, 2006

Thursday, November 3, 2005

Saturday, October 8, 2005

Tuesday, April 5, 2005

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Friday, February 4, 2005

Monday, January 3, 2005

Saturday, October 16, 2004

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