Seeker Magazine

Poems:
"Cain and Abel" & "The Plains of Abraham"

by Roger B. Humes

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Cain and Abel


oh my brother
the flocks are bedded down for the evening,
the purple fingers of twilight caress across the fields,
the fire has been stoked and our cups are filled,
come talk to me for a moment while we pretend
that we are once again children who are concerned
yet unworried about the effects of the world upon our lives

for too long our differences have stood as a wailing wall
between us who are of the same blood,
for too long the bitter words have stuck in our throats
and raised the heat of passion in a line drawn across the sand

but perhaps that is to be expected when one perceives
a slight given by a father as favoritism to another
and we know full well that mankind searches for an excuse
through us to justify the sins they lay upon the world

i think often of our parents who were set free
by the doom of the knowledge of the consequence of their actions
and of the recognition that perhaps the memory of life
without shame was the only thing that ever separated them from us

i remember them as giants who strode across my universe,
now they seem much smaller yet in possession of a wisdom
that can only be branded on the heart through the acceptance
of the guilt and defeats that life has to offer,
for though i know that they are made of clay
i love them almost as gods who breathed life into my body

however, my brother, for tonight let such things pass,
the fire crackles with laughter and warms
the cold corners of a soul that is weary
from the battles that waged between us

i lean forward to kiss your forehead
so i may forget for an instant the mark that burns upon mine
as i watch my fingers tremble when they stretch to close the eyelids
that stare deep into some tomorrow that i cannot see

soon i will wrap myself in a blanket and lay beside you
who are the only the one who ever knew or understood
just how my angry silence could have driven me to this moment

tonight i will watch the stars for both of us

in the morning i shall be gone


The Plains of Abraham

come sarah take my hand and let your song
ease for a moment from my mind the ache
for hagar and ishmael who dwell heavily
upon the thoughts of this fading man

your voice is still like honey to my ears
after all the years where you have grown into my face
like an identical twin exiled from my embrace
but who still finishes my sentences with the correct words

come sarah take my hand and let your song
bring forth the memories of when i was young and inhabited
the world of reckless immortality which is the grace
that youth does not know is its true strength

each morning i awaken to wonder why my sleep was troubled
while i know full well that it is the vision of their faces
which sits me bolt upright in bed at night with a sweat
that stares long into the weary hours of the darkness

each day i move through my steps now so familiar
i no longer need to contemplate the chores of my days
or the actions of those around me as we walk the paths
we have perhaps trod once too often to pay heed to their existence

each night returns the same and sometimes i wonder
if even the promises i have seen fulfilled are enough to justify a belief
there is a reason for me to continue onto a tomorrow
where i am distracted by the lack of dreams that remain within my grasp

(beside my bed lays the knife whose gleam holds the memories
of that fateful day where i made the choice and one lived
while the other was exiled to the desert of my affections
for i stayed with you though i still wonder what became of her

the blade placed against my wrist tastes cool to the skin
and tempts me with a sleep where i know conscience would not wake me
but i return it to the stand for the desire to live has not yet left my breath
because in the end sometimes legends are not heroes enough
to know when it is time to walk away)

come sarah take my hand and let your song
ease for a moment from my mind the longings
for you who are a part of the little that remains
from my days of glory because i know in my heart
you are more kind than i ever deserved to find

kiss me once again like it is the first time
and we have never walked before down this road

along the plains of abraham


(Copyright 2003 by Roger B. Humes - No reproduction without express permission from the author)

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Letter to the author: Roger B. Humes at rbhumes@csupomona.edu