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Jana Tovey
Member

since 2000-05-30

Posts 257
USA

0 posted 2000-06-02 10:40 AM

I know not what I saw
but as the quest ended,
there you stood, looming,
more real than the ground
beneath my feet,
hand outstretched
but only for a moment...
Did I hesitate?
And then you were gone.

Brown skinned, brown eyed,
rough weathered hands,
not unlike the gnarly roots
that protrude from the base
of the old live oak,
what were you offering
that I could not take?
A key to spirit worlds...
you did not beckon to me
but just appeared,
suddenly, shimmering slightly,
in the heated air.

brian madden
Member Elite

since 2000-05-06

Posts 4374
ireland

1 posted 2000-06-02 03:59 PM

I liked this one, it has a magical quality to it. Interesting images, great poem.

Brown skinned, brown eyed,
rough weathered hands,
not unlike the gnarly roots
that protrude from the base
of the old live oak,

------------------------
"I've been too honest with myself I should have lied like everybody else"-Richey Edwards

"Take nothing but pictures. Leave nothing but footprints. Kill nothing but time".

Baltimore Grotto

"Libraries gave us power
Then work came and made us free
What price now for a shallow piece of dignity"
Nicky Wire, A design for Life.

manic street preachers

La Tristesse Durera (Scream to a Sigh)
"Life has been unfaithful And it all promised so so much
I am a relic I am just a petrified cry Wheeled out once a year, a cenotaph souvenir
The applause nails down my silence
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
I see liberals I am just a fashion accessory
People send postcards
And they all hope I'm feeling well I retreat into self-pity, it's so easy Where they patronise my misery
La tristesse durera
Scream to a sigh, to a sigh
I sold my medal
It paid a bill
It sells at market stalls Parades Milan catwalks
The sadness will never go Will never go away
Baby it's here to stay

Joel the wolf
Senior Member

since 2000-04-06

Posts 1333
Angels Camp

2 posted 2000-06-02 07:41 PM

I had an Indian mentor for many years, she helped me to get in touch with my spirit guides.
Images like this one many times, she was a wonderful person.
your poem brings home fond memories.
Thank you.

Joel.

I howl a mournful song, that echos within my chambered heart, for all to read? nay for all to feel.

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