Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Two Wee Poems

The Dream

 Multi-layered reasons cloak my furtive attempts at conversation.

Single need drives me to probe, to wonder, to whisper all around the truth.

Keep it back.

No folly like the hidden one.  No time like the present.

I steal away backwards, the azure blue of the twilight sky sillouettes palms, tall and graceful.

Their slight movement in the wind mirrored on the breeze, touches my face.

The smell? -jasmine, dust, and you.

All fetters broken. I am free at last.

The monstrous dream has landed in my backyard.

The thing I hoped for, here and now.

I pinch myself, flying over ground, my feet inches above real, hard, solid earth.

Giddy elation. A wash of peace.

All my trust. Pinpointed to this soul-embracing moment.

It is finished.

My teeth chatter in the cold.

I hold myself tightly, but it is not enough.

Pieces of me are flying away.

What remains will have to do.

And there is plenty to do.

Be good, my muse, and stay awhile.

Carve your leaden features on my mind.

Stay your angel fingers on the memory of tomorrow.

Stamp an image, clear and strong.

My pouring out depends on it.

My filling up comes with your words.

Be good, my muse and stay awhile.

The clouds gather...."Filled with Failure" the words lie heavy.

They burn and cleanse like farmer's fires.

The deadwood past is kindling.

The present fluff blows past my door.

My house is crowded, rooms are full.

Clear away the refuse and empty every corner, till all is gone and peace is left.

I sit in silence on the floor.

The echos tell no truth but mocking lies.

I will not stop to fear them now.

The truth has burned away all farce.

 The Ride of Life

Hairpin curves, breathtaking vistas.

I hug my yearnings to myself and daftly try to shape them into what I believe.

Do we all do this?

No other living soul can share this space with me; I inhabit it alone.

Stand or fall.

Rich or poor.

Loved or left.

Faith's a lonely room.

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