Monthly Archives: March 2014

What Came To Be

This week marks the anniversary of my daughter’s death.  I wrote the first few lines of this poem while she was still alive, nearly seven years ago to the day.  I finished it over the next month, adding a few words as they came to me.  This week’s poem is in memory and honor of my daughter, Livia Flynn.

You smiled when we yelled
Unable to understand the words
But comforted by familiarity.
You fell asleep despite
The clash of conflict,
An oasis of tranquility
In the midst of chaos.

Wandering back with hands for eyes
Groping at the pale shroud of time
At landmarks, unrecognizable
Darkness grown from light
The illumination of a photo
A smile, a sleeping face

Still moments count the hours
And silence accompanies
Emptiness both searching
For companionship
In absence

Order replaces disarray
With a surplus of time
Distraction becomes
Recreation

The sun rises, yet the sky is empty
The day begins, but the morning
Is filled with a quiet that is not peace

Memory lacks and does not care
That it will never sate

What came to be

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Writer and Word

So this post is a day late, which has become a bad habit despite changing the scheduled day that I post for Live From The Lexicon. Maybe the following poem will shed some light on the sometimes tortured relationship that takes place between writer and word.

 

When there came the words to me
I wrote them down to set them free.
They despaired they could not stay
Clung to shadows, hidden away.
I assured them they’d return
And met again reluctant spurn.
I called upon the coax of muse
Whose beckoning they did refuse.
I left them with a paper host
Which they feared, as if a ghost.
I wished them well, if not goodbye
For in my mind they multiply,
Until they overpopulate.
I seek for them a kinder fate
For voice unbidden of a word
Will not abide to be unheard.

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The Lost Captain

Upon an ocean westward bound
A captain many days and then
They cast me off the ship aground
Forty vile and mutinous men

A favored wind was at our back
Horizons left an empty sea
I never changed the course or tack
And sailed us past the last known quay

Their plotted secrets unbeknownst
Their whispered plan was never heard
But once in sight of foreign coast
They deposed me without word

Fear drove the reason from their heads
Horrors and myths of unknown shores
Haunted the crew within their beds
Wild omens not to be ignored

They stranded me as penance here
A sacrifice to save their hope
I watched the white sails disappear
Collapsed upon the sandy slope

And when the first sounds reached my ears
Of unseen things in forest’s shade
I found the tales were not just fears
Saw my mistakes for hubris made

A fond remembrance of the sun
Sparkling crimson on each wave
From fate I knew I could not run
As my new home became my grave

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The Life of Dreams

I tarried in the darkness
Where sleep in shadow dwelt
Waiting while he bowed his head
Beside his bed he knelt

I studied when that head did rest
Upon the pillow with eyes closed
I watched the rising of his breast
Approached in silence while he dozed

I poised above the sleeping frame
Observed the quarry as he slumbered
The peace within his face proclaimed
His drowsing mind was unencumbered

I took the cue to start my work
Unleashed upon the carefree slate
All type of fear dredged from the murk
And beasts born of the blindest hate

He writhed as each new vision passed
His heart was pulsing wild with fear
Throughout the night until at last
The hint of daybreak sun crept near

I mourned the silence as it broke
The clock struck morning once again
And when he woke the dream’s truth spoke
I found that I had never been

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