Hail, Poetry

I've realized that I've started posting to Facebook a lot, and here not at all. I suppose there might be some overlap, but I do have a special place in my heart for Scribbledom, and so this makes me sad. Well. I have complete control over it. Here is a poem I've posted to Facebook recently. Enjoy!

Caddo Shade

Impossibly white

Like a ghost or a god,

An alabaster egret

Stands in somber niche,

Ancient, aloof, enigmatic,

Barring the gates

To a shadow world

With eye of unconcerned flint

And gleam of unworldly elegance

Between the cypress trunks

Like stony temple columns

Surrounded by worshippers

On their knees

Frozen in mystic rites

Beneath fluttering wraiths

Of trailing, faded moss,

Like tattered banners

Of long forgotten kings,

Barring the gates

To a world apart

From blue sky and blue stream,

Green moss beneath

Green leaves above

A world suspended,

Dark and still, a mystery

Between water and air

Haunted by one white spirit.

The way is shut.

I dare not pass

The silent sentry.

Even sun rays are muted,

Unable to penetrate

A secret inviolate.

Elegy for a Fading Love

Shower streaming down on me

Early morning elegy

For a love not meant to be

Hot water pouring down on me

Cleaving me and crumbling me

Bits of me dissolved

Down the drain

Lost in sobs and shudderings

Drawn from me

Explode from me

Feeling love’s grasp slackening

Kill it now! It’s weak.

Crush it under foot, be strong!

Be brave…

Be quick…

Burn its Hydra neck before

Another head leaps out

Mouthful of teeth to bite and hold…

Not strong, not brave, not quick

Waiting, watching frozen still

Feel it loosen, washed down

Worn down by tears

Clinging somewhere out of sight

Faded into grief and night

I could have loved forever…

Couldn’t I?

Can’t I?

Won’t I?

Will I ever?

Now to live again just out of reach

Just out of touch

Heart wakened from a dream

Just to find itself alone

Come back but cold and quivering

Drawing heat from shower steam

Proving Herrick Right the Hard Way

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
I left one rosebud on the vine.
Old Time is still a-flying;
I thought we had world enough, and time.
And this same flower that smiles today
I wasted today in fear and pride.
Tomorrow will be dying.
I waited too long and my rosebud died.

Je Souhaite

I wish my eyes could be
A mirror that you'd look into and see
All the good I see in you
Not without fault
No one can be
But with fault in its place
Not shadowing the shining truth

I see your faults
They stand beside the good
Not behind it, not before
Just as the bad should be
Owned,not gilded over
So should every good
Shine out unblemished
As much a part of us
As all our flaws
And thrown into the balance
Of our souls
To make us human
Precious in ourselves
Whole

My wish is that you always see
All that I see and love in you
Yourself

Waiting

Waiting clouds slope northward
Carded smooth by a warm south breeze.
The sun wades through them punching tickets
Paid in silver linings, sends them on their way
Back to winter, leaving blue between.
A robin waits brown in brown grass,
Looks at me with eyes that know
The crucible cooling, darkness fading.
The smell of spring waits in the air,
A smell of softer, brighter gray.

Hourglass

Under glass
Sand sifting, pouring
Weighing me down, gushing,
Then trickling, then a single breath
And I'm tumbled over, then spilled out
Squeezed into a narrow space, reborn,
And buried again a hundred,
A thousand times.
No more.
I've smashed the glass
Shattered it against the floor
Emptied myself into your hands
But you can't hold me or my dreams,
I will become something new
Healed and filled again
By something better
This time.

Sick and Tired

of being sick and tired
of dark mornings
of being cold when it's warm outside
of caring so much
of not caring enough
of being told my vote doesn't count
of people who talk about happiness in terms of politics and not people
of narrow minded bigots
of respiratory protective program standards
of the word "shall"
of being the walking reference index for the finer points of Shell formatting
of bulleted Word styles that won't stay put and Word tables that behave in inexplicable ways
of "quick" format edits for people who can't format worth crap
of cars and buildings
of gas prices
of the shifting concrete in the road by my apartment
of the poor customer service at the nearest T-Mobile store
of not being able to sing through my full range
of coughing
of having no breath support when I play
of not having any completely free weekends at home until next year
of having only one free evening a week
of being lonely
of having no time to meet new people
of weighing 15 lbs more than I want to
of my lack of motivation to lose weight
of never going out dancing
of never getting asked to dance when I do
of not seeing the friends I don't see
of incompetance
of mediocraty
of complacency
of my own impatience with others
of fighting losing battles
of being sick and tired

Am I a Fool?

Am I a fool because my heart
Does not lie
In a cage of my own building?
Should I only let it sing when all
The doors are shut
And every window closed to keep the cat out,
As if it were a tame and pretty bird
Content with dead air
And too afraid to face the storms?
Would you tell a wild, free thing
Where not to go,
Or teach a lark the tale of Icarus?

Give Me Strength

Give me strength to weep the willow's tears

And bend beneath the weight of passing years.

Until my sorrows ripple on the breeze

And float away among the golden leaves

To drift and spread, and spreading, free my heart

And with each breath of wind breathe a new start.