Friday, June 19, 2015

Two Poems That I Wrote This Morning

Actually, the first stanza came to me last night as I was falling asleep. I knew I needed to get up and write it down, but I was so tired... I was mildly surprised that I remembered it this morning.  I'll probably tweak and re-tweak them (like I do with everything I write) over the coming days and weeks and months and even years. Here they are:


The Torture Never Stops

I woke this morning
From a dream of blood flowing freely
As my desire for a razor ebbed.

Separation of hand from arm
The stab of knife into gut
Wishing to just finally lay down and die.

These maybe old hat,
But today’s unsought freshness
Distracts from past transgressions and petty sins.

* * * * and:

A Life of Meaning

Sure, I do it to myself
Setting some x against some other y
A rampaging r against an innocent q
Omni bellum from a to z.

Is there some kernel of me
Above and beyond pulling strings
Making me twitch and cavort
Before some old rugged cross
So as to look away from today’s troubles
To what? To whatever? Does it matter?
Is it all just an exercise in cowardice
To quash curiosity and imagination
Because Life sometimes hurts?

Sure, I do it all to myself
Even if I do sometimes complain.

* * *

And if I am as I appear to be
A swamp and sometime desert
Would chanting some ancient magic
Till the day I die
Make it all go away and
Bring peace and love
Punctuated only
By the occasional foray into hell?
A metaphysics read out of
Passing moods and lost tempers.

Or do I need a kind word
With a gentle hand on my shoulder
A simple presence to remind
This time I do not stand alone?

Or is it a matter of laying
The foundation of heaven
In the fires and torments of hell?
Courage and victory are not earned
With kind words and gentle hands.

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