Thursday, February 12, 2009

Growing Older

Poetry slices through me
Molts fight and insight
Captures a moment — a truth
And I cling to it. I breathe
Its air so as to feel
My substance
As though through its beauty I am
More real. Carved into rock

With each day I jell
Into crystal and no matter where
I write light filters through me
As though entombed in mirrors shining
The same reflection. Words
Rebound and welter and I shun
The din. Emerging
Hope shatters me

Into shards piercing
The heart of my fog morphing
Me into me and relief
And blessings are in sight. Wishes
As innocence and possibility flourish
And blunder forever wanting
To be what might
And so I write.


Finalized on my facebook page: Forsaken


Finalized on Facebook as Framed

Irony Of Public

as boredom reigns
as sleep silences

as dreams drench
in despair

let me out
free me

categorize me
write me off

let me walk unnoticed
as unnamed

as I know pain
is not a public place