Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Some Ol' Poems

I found poems these while cleaning up my past, they are from a 2003 poetry class:

THE PHOTOGRAPH

In the brisk, expected flash of brilliant light,
His ivory teeth protruded in a smirk-like manner.
Momentarily, his true countenance arose:
His joy rejuvenated; his eyes stimulated with exhilaration.
Then she wedged the black gadget of memories back in her purse.

ARTISAN

The latex-covered hands anticipate the authoritative words.
"Turkey on wheat" demands the impatient, hungry student.
Swiftly the hands obey slopping on the slimy turkey.
Grace and beauty describe ballerinas, she only fashions sandwiches.
Day after day the hands comply without question, without fault.

SUBMERGED

I take off my shirt and it's drenched in remembrance of him
Those buttons, this thread, that collar--all scream his name
In those linen-lined cuffs lie the draped memory: he danced with me
He touched my lips, my muscles, my blood
And somehow left a love that will forever caress that shirt.

WITHOUT HER

He carefully placed the cotton fabric between his gnarled fingers
The silver needle went in and out with rhythm, that
Mimicked the only sound in the house: the ticking of the clock.
He wasn't going to let the only remnant of her slip away
But time has no feeling, and neither does his pricked, bloody hand.

PEACE

You carried my cross, my nails bore into your wrists.
You suffered my through my ugly shame without complaint,
And pain became your peace.

You carried me, nine months you suffered.
Cesarean danger yielded life--
And pain became your peace.

For one year I carried that burden of my past.
You and I bonded due to our like suffering
I felt the thorn before the beauty of the rose,
And pain became my peace.

THE HYPOCRITE'S VEIL

Her skin hides her past sins like a curtain:
Underneath a cage her rage subsides
She knew the truth, but chose not to pursue.
Many times she took no heed to recede
She says she lives by truth, but where's her proof?
One flash of lust dusted off purity--
A foundation whose creation was weak.
Feeling heightened into frightened measure:
His hands held her hips. Then he kissed her lips.
Every touch she realized as such vice--
But she stayed there where sin lingered in vain.
After, she cried--more ugly shame to hide.


THAT PLACE

In a year brimming with change, space befriended me.
I returned to that place I first saw your face:
A dumbfounded distance fifteen feet away.
"How's your day?" replaced sublime words,
"I'm so attracted to your mind," disappeared.
A dense friendship effortlessly dissipated--
You retired, but your words still linger lifelessly
Waiting to find significance once again.
Our impenetrable connection collapsed, and
All the words I narrated as impeccable truth
Are now merely a form of literary entertainment,
A memory of three hundred days ago.

A DEMON'S DISCOURSE TO HIS PEERS IN HELL

You hateful messengers of vain temptations
Damn your--I mean our--fuming sarcastic vows
Cut those hideous smirks from your poisoned faces.
Is this vain life worth the Devil's approval?
I'm tired of flapping and fluttering
In an aurora of deceit.
God's power is too great, too magnificent
His glory is too amazing.

I have given my soul too long for a fool's paradise.
This hateful home to choruses of vile demons
Will no longer be my resting place.
Fueled by revenge, we've poisoned innocent minds,
In the name of envy, I've despised creation.
Oh! Wake up from this aggravated slumber!
Open your hate-intoxicated eyes to the truth
Can't you see? We are but whimpering pawns
Used as the Deceiver's clinging bait
By mocking, cursing, tempting--
We relish in other's torment
What pitiful existence we are engulfed in.
Appearing as angels, our sorry slander crucifies love
But what for? Stop your wretched whispering
Listen to me you graceless idolaters!
Won't you cease the dismembering of the saints?

The Almighty has defeated evil already,
And soon He will dismember you.
I am throwing away my wicked essence;
I cast aside all deceit and envy
And sprint hell-bent for love.
No longer am I Satan's fingers of allurement,
I am falling back in rank with the glorious army
From which I came--will you join me?


WINGS OF GLORY

We humans are created to fly
More than any species of land or sea
But oh, how seldom we try!

Wings of gold underneath us lie,
The Griffon Vulture strikes our raging jealousy
Oh how we are created to fly!

Rather than soaring through a midnight sky,
We settle for a dark street of dull reality.
Why oh why? How seldom we try.

In essence, we think we live simply to die
But surely in crawling, we cannot truly see--
Oh how we are created to fly!

Lost in average misery, we cry.
Dreams to us are absurd hyperboles
Oh if only we'd more often try!

A mountain peak; a stream of glory; both testify,
Adventure exists to set us free
Oh how we are destined to fly
If only, if only, we'd get up and try!