| Left, Right and Wrong |
[Nov. 19th, 2006|11:32 pm] |
This post contains poems from my eighth and most recent (at time of writing) poetry collection, "Left Right and Wrong."
Poems:
"Ode to Lene"
"It Hurts to Have Your Head Screwed On"
"Pollute and Progress"
"That Same Perfect Stranger"
------Left, Right and Wrong------
"Ode to Lene"
You saw,
You saw through,
You saw it through to the end
And you,
You will never be forgotten.
You saw,
You saw so far
And saw the truth of it all,
You watched closely
And saw what you needed to see.
You saw your dreams
Wisp on by in pieces
That you gathered in a net
And you,
You will never be forgotten,
Not in a thousand years
For what you have done.
You,
You saw the light of day
From behind a wall of protection
And you,
You saw what you needed to see,
But could not grasp it,
For your net had holes
That you were not ready to mend.
You saw,
You saw without your eyes,
You saw the world for what it was
And you accepted that it was not for you
And when you saw that light
That was not of this world,
You saw the gasps and with
No ears you heard
The shrill cries of your home
And you saw it all fall,
You saw,
You saw it all,
And you fell without falling
And your lights went dark
And your walls came in
But you saw,
You saw it all,
And you knew that it wasn’t for you,
This world,
You saw your dreams
And saw your world
And without choice you remained
Inside your world,
As it gasped its last,
And flashed the past
You saw.
You saw it all.
-----------------------------------
"It Hurts To Have
Your Head Screwed On"
Oh, they say a lot of things,
They certainly do.
They say that it’s never quite
Enough,
You’ve got to keep going,
You can’t ignore the world,
Even if that would be bliss,
It hurts to have your head screwed on,
Spotting everything
You wish you could miss.
But you can’t help from watching,
Blinking as the world melts on.
You sit awake at night,
Asking the world, “Why?”
Without any answers
Just gunshots and cancers
And you look at the sunrise
Hoping for an ending,
A time when they notice
And sit up from their bliss.
-------------------------------
"Pollute and Progress"
Questions always unanswered
And the same state of decay.
One small blossoming flower
Defiantly grows amidst the smoke
And ruin,
Always hoping to advance
And flow outward to cover
The barren earth with
Blue petals and spread
Its ripened seeds.
But give those flowers
No room to breathe
And let your smoke
Cloud their way
And you’re just a chimney
For the great grey decay;
The world is ding and
You’re left with red hands.
Burn and boil and let
Your days be loud
For in the years ahead
There will only be silence
--------------------------
"That Same Perfect Stranger"
Every day,
That same perfect stranger,
Sitting with a book
Folded neatly in her hands,
Reading away the minutes
As the world keeps on spinning,
Looking on through windows
That show only a blank wall.
Every day,
That same perfect stranger;
She smiles every time
And she means every one of them,
But crying behind them,
Like a wounded silence
Trying to speak out,
But always just smiling.
That one perfect stranger
Who greets all who meet her,
She sits with her pages
And just keeps on reading.
--------------------------
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