Medians

in the centre: brown against white
sharpened all alone
or dull, hovering trees
it’s everywhere
but especially here
no deer yet — but it’s early
and I’m nervous to see the signs
inciting fear without threats
wrought from insecurity
and instead of removing the dead skin
pries up a new layer
anxious to be discarded
but maybe I don’t really know
so alert I’ll stay, at my window
watching the white turn gray

Copyright L.M. 2007.

Movement (October 2006)

cornered
secretive journeys of unknown eyes
follow helplessly through firm air
the new shield
meant only for she who is immortal
sacred
and pure
sets sail for a heart of oblivion
chartering courses yet to be taught
a childless excursion
seeping into a well-known chasm
and yet
boredom worries few
tethering sinew stretched taut
jumbled words of wisdom sought
their carabine stalking guilt to err
and you

Copyright L.M. 2006.

Insomnia

how long does it take?
a million thoughts per second
I have only to grasp but one
and make it stick
but this delusional misery
makes me different
and silences the norm

to shadow someone
I choke at the thought
my independent sea
took many years to fill
and I don’t know how to swim but there
I’ve become nocturnal
and my body now frightens easily
I’m choking again

I cannot fathom why
and every day people ask
I laugh but I’m scared

it’s a lovely thing to have dreams
yet I avoid sleep
so as not to have them end

I swear to me it’s dark as dust
and just as mystical

Copyright L.M. 2007.

A Word of Grace (December 2006)

it’s in her style
paths of words streaming
seeming
beaming
their peace upon us all
as we sing out delight
at the voice in our heads
perhaps mouthed in pain
or wreathing
or the simple hurt of breathing
barely there and yet
a final stanza’s set
forgiving all we weren’t

unopened in the eyes of many
sitting all alone
in waiting and impatience
wondering at such
use of passive tense
for not all eyes can see
splendid verbose beauty
but sit here we

gliding fingers highlight text
whose passion rises ours
left only to second-guess
whose life personified
yours or his
hers or mine
ignorant of time
and so it settles
her adorning mind

    

    

Copyright L.M. 2006.

(My sister had a different interpretation for this poem when she read it; she thought it was about the Virgin Mary….. have another read and you might see why she, and I now too, can glean that meaning from it…..)

Inventory

I want you to know
every one of you
that I don’t cry for you
I don’t weep
I’m not heartbroken
for nothing can break
through stone

ups and downs
everyday drama
it’s not my thing
I’d rather hide in the forest
and wait for you to find me

as it is, I look for you
outside my door
exiting my life
and wonder if you’ll be back
because I never know for sure

where did I get these thoughts?

did Einstein suffer depression?
I suppose he must have
thoughts like that from me
have pricked the plume anew
though I like the solitary company

I bend
far too much
so much so
that I don’t know
within myself
where I search
and daily toss
the dye that bleeds me

I know where we stand
each and every single one of us
and I will continue to try
to rationalize
and objectify
myself in my mind
just for you

I soared into storm clouds
higher than life
I cannot blame the messenger
but yet I can’t help
feeling tossed
like stale bread
soaking up any hint of warmth
to postpone the brittle battle
I will play by your rules
I will chisel a path
as long as you still try
and as long as I don’t fall
but I should let you know
I don’t feel your respect
not today, nor yesterday
not in the slightest
don’t you see?
I’m the doll
the smiling face which you do greet
with open arms and fleeing feet
sighing, wishing for a day
with ladders finally tossed away
so I may sit alongside you
with worries none, and fears few
the palm I’m in is over-filled
and not exactly what I willed
but choices few, this chiselled stone
is all I have to call my own

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (written a couple months ago, and again I recognize the poem isn’t very good haha).