Tuesday, December 14, 1993

poem: The Goddess

Untitled
Alone and frightened, I walk in the dark,
Above me glows a waning moon,
It speaks of death and life to come,
And I ask the question, "But how soon?"

"A mess I'm in!" I cry aloud,
"I've dug myself into this dark.
My Fire of Will lies dead and cold,
Who can relight it with their spark?"

Sadness now around me swirls,
While anger's Fire burns passion bright.
My Fire of Will may be dead and gone,
But can I turn the anger into light?

And now I tread through quickened time,
My future seen in one event,
Sadly now to sit and write,
Another lesson Goddess-sent.

I sadly sit here, realize slow,
That I'm not as mature as I had thought,
All my dreams that seemed so close,
Are gone again, and must be sought.

Once there was hope that kept me sane,
Once there was hope to give me light,
And now it's gone to ne'er return,
As my day turns into night.

So down my inner streets I go,
Looking for a sign of life,
Looking outside no stars glow,
Looking inside only strife.

Life's walls around me crumble now,
Faith is here, but hope is lost,
I'm on a journey of no return,
As on life's seas alone I'm tossed.

So on a journey just begun,
I stand here naked in the cold,
I walk on stones with bleeding feet,
Toward other pains as yet untold.

Good-bye to home, good-bye to hope,
Good-bye to all I hold so dear,
Alone I sit and weep aloud,
As inky blackness draws now near.

Wednesday, June 16, 1993

poem: The Broken Torch

The Broken Torch
I walk down a hallway of lackluster light,
Feeling how bad lonliness can bite,
And wondering if I'll ever find the light,
Of a new day dawning in my heart.

I fight my way through the days so cold,
The stone in my heart gives miseries untold,
And after five days this song and dance is so old,
And I just want to go home.

It's true tonight what he spoke to me,
If anything happens, it's I who'll make it be,
But sometimes in the dark it's just so hard to see,
And sometimes I can't light the torch.

I find it hard to just embrace the storm,
To leave behind all that's safe and warm,
As me and the known asunder are torn,
And God I'm feeling homesick tonight.

Now I'm center stage and on my own,
It's all up to me and I feel so alone,
And the certaintly of it chills me to the bone,
And I need some help to get by.

So friend I leave you now with this,
A final hug and one last kiss,
Then voyage I must into the mist,
And out lives part, broken by fate.

Thursday, February 25, 1993

poem: Six Months After - For Rosebud

Six Months After - For Rosebud
And she died.
They killed her.
Six months ago
Today. the
Roses we planted in the Park
Died, too. her
Death showed just how close to
Death the will of the people is.

One more person.
One more person
Dead, and
Six months removed from
This world.
Six months does
Something to dull the
Pain.
Time gives us other concerns so that we
Forget.
The memories remain.
Conjure them up at will and
1993 disappears,
Replaced by whatever time you want.
Life is for the living, but the
Dead must be
Remembered.
And what is remembered,
Lives.