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Open Poetry #48
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2012-12-01 10:49 AM



And So...


...And so we lift our tired eyes
Above all, showing no surprise;
To whet the lips, images bold –
To brave the end of lies untold.
A timeless waltz we dare not stop
For fear the other shoe may drop,
And so, we dance the dream away
Never seeing what we hold today…

…Or why the truth has passed us by
In the blinking of some teenaged eye.
As mirrors yield a stranger's face,
With only emptiness to embrace.
And so misstructure sets us free
To explore our own travesty,
But life's mystery holds no sway
Over the ghosts of yesterday…

...That wail – that moan an endless cry.
...That swirl like darkness through the sky.
...That hold the chalice to your lips,
While every last precious moment drips
To stains on a lovely white dress,
That pass unnoticed, I confess...
As we celebrate in toast, and feast,
A beast within not yet released.

Still, in the moment's broken thought
She longs to show all I forgot,
Those wretched images of dream
Echoing through hell like a scream.
And so the crowd now stirs with worry,
Searching out the door in a hurry...
But, no escaping what hell I've wrought,
They’re soon to pass, an afterthought.

The recompense none shall obtain,
Commemorated through one ailing brain.
A vision stirred to a dead calm
That cradles like a soothing balm.
And of the passions it once held,
Well, none stood by to see them felled…
And so unremembered they lie
In a land where demons never die.


Michael Anderson


Death's but a path that must be trod,
If man would ever pass to God.

Thomas Parnell

[This message has been edited by Michael (12-01-2012 11:30 AM).]

© Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Victoria
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Ascendant
since 2000-08-12
Posts 5869

1 posted 2012-12-01 11:28 AM


But life's mystery holds no sway
Over the ghosts of yesterday…


I enjoyed those lines as I love reading about my families ancestors...the ghosts of the past. I even had their photos framed and hung around the house for awhile.

I enjoyed the whole poem Michael.

~V~

Love: A temporary insanity curable by marriage. by Ambrose Bierce

Ethern
Member
since 2010-07-01
Posts 150
on a plane
2 posted 2012-12-01 07:33 PM


great work, as usual
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