Give me back my mind
by Latorial Faison
Touch me soothingly . . . spiritually
so that I may live again
throw down these weary thoughts of mine
with the feathering of your hand
Today I walk in darkness
not certain I've ever seen the light
heavy heart . . . clouded mind
just wandering in the night
no recollection of where I've been
no image and dream of where I'll be
just a mysteriously melancholic moment
leaving me to call on thee
have the years taught me well
is what they tell me "ask"
don't remember the joy of yesterdays
just sit, be calm . . . relax
thump . . .thump . . . thump
the pipe organ does its thing
while I solemnly, silently sit and ponder
what does this beating mean
my days are slowly moving
toward living the chaotic life
mind bending, nerve wrecking
heck . . . i'm just his wife.
they call me all day long
i drown them out with my silly song
but to my own dismay
when the singing stops, their cries stay
oh but my own padded room
it must be waiting in the thicket
with its pitiful potions and posh poisons
could that be my only ticket?
anyone would call me crazy
but if they only lived my day
then they could solve this puzzling mystery
see the error of my stay
but life pays me no never mind
so i keep living forty days behind
waiting for the purifiers' touch
to give me back my mind.
Copyright 2001 by Latorial Faison. (latorial@poeticallyspeaking.net).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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Here you shall find me
by David Michael Jackson
here you shall find me
must find me
we must meet
having met, we must
meet again in the shadows of
truth
beauty shines through the window and
dances with the dust in the air
the cat sits by the window
watching the birds
I sit by the window with your memory
watching for you
in the birds
in the trees
we must meet across the river
in the shade of that tree
that tree we cling to
so the raging waters of the flood
may not drown us in our own
innocence
Copyright 2001 by David Michael Jackson (JACKSDM@prodigy.net).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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An Old Friend Turns Older
by Ronald L. Haun
At the office one day as he was turning away
having delivered his usual soliloquy
on some subject or other no one much cared about,
he rubbed intently the knob on his right shoulder with his left hand
and just for an instant I saw my friend as an old man:
narrowing shoulders, hard of hearing and apt to shout.
His knee pained him often as did his lumbar region.
And now and then he forgot what he had begun.
This vital man who had climbed every mountain but Everest
now seemed thinner and smaller through the chest.
He had done McKinley, the one in Chile and another and another.
Then he married and time went by faster, blended and smoother.
Till there he was, this friend of my youth, turning away
while out of him peeked a stranger, an older man withered and gray,
as if to accustom himself to existence through such brief forays,
saying hello as the younger man said goodbye.
Copyright 2001 by Ronald L. Haun. (Ronalot23@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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PhoenixFireWings
by Lisa Guliani
Crouching in the forest of my soul
I shudder in frozen rain
Waiting in twilight's doorway
Restless, in a tempest of moment.
I know not the solace of the past,
For the past is lifeless in the night.
I know only that you exist,
As surely as I breathe.
I reach for a hand,
That which has slipped
From the grasp of memory,
Almost, but not entirely.
Lying still, I listen -
Imagining the steady rhythm
Of your heartbeat,
A slow tribal drumming,
A dance of summer rain....
Music, wanderer in the wind,
Beguile me in this lingering,
For there, in dense shadows,
Lies Soul's sleeping passion,
Fire's burning touch,
Kiss of the Phoenix,
All that could be
Or ever was...............
Copyright 2001 by Lisa Guliani. (Lillhermit@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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Letter to the Editor: Cherie Staples (skyearth1@aol.com).