Sunday, January 20, 2008
poems
RAKE
Feelings scattered about the yard
hoping for the wind to blow,
blow them everywhere, anywhere
before the big brand new rake
shows up to scrape them together
with its strong arm and needing ways
putting them into neat little piles,
piles just big enough to be manageable.
feelings wishing for a gust
like a gust never felt before a gust
that would thrust itself
headstrong underneath
and in to each and every
veined and supple little feeling,
feelings that yearn for the wind,
wind so heavy and full.
feelings rustling in the breeze,
breeze so quiet and cool
feelings too easily succumbed by even
the slightest scratch from the rake,
the rake that so quickly subdues with its
tickling fingers bending their gentle
frames forcing them to be manageable.
feelings piled neatly and organized,
organized into small but thick piles,
piles that fit easily into their
packages, packages that contain
the frail feelings no longer supple
but bruised and crushed used by
the rake as though they were nothing.
copyright 2002-2008 cg 3[2002]
rust
handcuffed soul to soul
well that's no way to grow
chained and drained from chains of pain the key won't turn the lock
the lock is trained to keep the pain so tight within the chain
bound and blistered chafed and hurt to escape and still remain.
desert blooms and desert snow and desert springs renew
they help to heal the deepest cuts the night air so fresh and cool
I want to go and feel the heat to liberate my soul.
stainless though the chains are made the rust will make its way
to eat the bondage break the bind that holds us soul to soul
let the freedom sing its freedoms song and set the captives free
if not for you and not for me but for free as free to be.
no key is needed no magic twist for the lock that just wont budge
as nature breaks and nature heals where no man need to judge,
suns will rise and suns will set and rust will take its toll
and after all that time has passed we won't be tied so tight to fight
the chains that bind us whole but break the chains that keep us
handcuffed soul to soul.
copyright 2002-2008 cg 3[2002]
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4 comments:
Dog, I am loving your pictures. Looks like you are really enjoying your new camera...I can totally relate. And, I never knew you were so poetic. Very attractive!
The poetry is AMAZING! Really, you have quite a talent!
So as not to create confusion - the poems I wrote but the balloon, snake, rake and rust pictures I googled.
MichelleAnn: I do love the camera and I guess I are poetic
dana: Thanks - I have years of this stuff
Have you read Cormac McCarthy's books? Your poems, especially the Rust one reminds me of his novels. Inexorable, a bit bleak but soulful and ringing true. Thanks for sharing. You are really putting yourself out there hey? Nice to meet you -besides wonderful food!
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