Sunday, April 12, 2009

Poetic license


In going through some old poems to use in a reply, I found quite a few I haven't read for a while, some of which have been posted here. I declare this to be a poetry day.

Let the poetry flow:


Night Vision


Darkness around me,
Glinting stars above,
pinpoints of brightness
in the velvet night.

Alone and lonely,
aimlessly walking
where silent crickets watch
as fireflies spark
in zigzag flight.

Glorious light shining
in a frame of clouds,
a figure reaches out to me.
"You are my chosen,
the seed of hope."

"I am a battered package
no one wants."
Eyes smiling, He offers
"Come, be made whole."

Touching, accepting,
a well fills and spills
over a once battered package
now bright and new.

###

Beforever More


All around peace and no peace inside
Burning desire, empty wishes
Longing to touch and be touched
And in the touching lost
No meaning, only sight
And sound
Touch
And taste
Scent
And nothing.
Emotions running high,
Fever burning incandescent
Tossed and swept with cold fires
Unable to quench bottomless desire
And need
Empty motion, bodies locked,
Endless hunger never spent.
A bright shining moment caught
In time and space moving closer
Dead layers burnt away to reveal
Fresh bleeding soul.
Love long lost reclaimed
In a moment out of time,
Virtual reality made real.
Connected by speeding electrons
And souls out of time
The emptiness filled at last
Chaos all around and peace inside
Fulfilled as before and forever more.

###

Long Fatal Love Chase

She begs for death's cold touch,
a respite from unrecognized success,
its fruits barely tasted.
She awaits quiet and release
from the demons, an inheritance
drunk with mother's milk
that soured the first fruits
of life and love.

Death comes slowly,
a reluctant lover,
a fiery touch
of searing emptiness and
lasting pain,
lingering hunger
for the last sight
and breath,
for escape into the
silence of the
void.

###

Of Wriggling

Wormy wriggling
in tight packed dirt below feet
fertile airy earth

###

Fractious

Correct me if you dare,
leave your brain at the door.
I am master here
logic and debate
I will destroy.

Don't correct my language,
my words, my thoughts, or deeds,
for I am king;
and you're a trespasser here.

I'll invite you in,
dangle gifts and prizes, too,
but don't you dare correct me,
I'll holler if you do.

My opinions are paramount
and stronger than logic
and will not bear the light.
I will not be corrected
for I am always right.


That is all. Disperse.

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