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Revisions
Contributed by
butterat_zool
on
Tuesday, 1st March 2005 @ 11:48:18 AM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
Of a Lab Rat
You lumpy, yellow rat,
caged from birth,
trained to do tricks
so that I can get an A in lab,
I envy you.
As I reach into the Skinner Box
to pick you up,
you squeak the squeak
passed down through generations,
the natural reaction
to python, cat, or lab student.
I envy you
because you don’t know why you cry out,
you just do.
I’ve spent my life seeking God,
trying to find the hand that will someday take me,
but whenever I get close
to being led from this world,
I squeak too.
You don’t know the price you’ll pay one day,
nor the taste of earthly wisdom.
You don’t know Poetry,
and I envy you.
For Lumpy in PSY 305.
Astray
I found Jesus one Tuesday night,
sitting in the old Krispy Kreme
across the tracks from the school
that once taught only negroes.
I was just driving thru,
but I saw Him, in all His glory.
He must have been three-hundred pounds,
a workhorse, covered in calluses,
draped in beaten flannel,
hopelessly stirring His coffee
with an Original Glazed,
His dark hand turning
through pictures in His wallet,
crying with His entire body
as He kissed the face of a child.
Bedtime Prayer
Dearest Lord, my strength does wane.
I pray it back come morn' again.
As I lie, my soul grows tired,
homesick in this corporal mire,
wishing travels far and wide
while I wait with closéd eyes.
Take it where the children fly,
where dogs can speak but never lie,
where your white shield saves me from fear,
for where my soul is, you are near.
Dear Lord, I pray we dance tonight
if you have time and I've done right.
I pray your blessings on all men,
women, children, and their kin.
I pray the stars and moon still shine
their angel-light on me and mine.
I pray, from grace, I never fall.
Please keep me yours. Please keep us all.
Amen.
Duck Poem
The little ducklings,
following mum in a row,
in the water, eat my bread
and it is sweet as it melts
down their throats.
The grown ducks honk
and play in the water,
or sleep on the tiny island
just out of my reach.
They eat my bread
and it is sweet as it melts
down their throats.
The ancient duck lies now,
floating before me,
and plays in the gravy pond,
and frolics through the
carrots and broccoli and onions
and batter, and it is sweet
and gentle and chewy and wonderful
as it melts down my throat.
A Story Between Rain and Snow
1. Eventide
Rain drops, playing on the rooftop.
Raindrops echo in the night.
Your eyes, I can’t forget this feeling.
Rain drops, quiet as a knife.
2. Fireplace
Cracking,
The embers are born.
They seize and die
Like fireflies.
The candles
Make the room warm
And orange
As our coq au vin
Melts into our bodies.
This wine,
This evening,
Is for you.
3. Cellar Door
The rain pulses
Down on our gentle world.
I have only grains in an hourglass
Before I can no longer make you love me.
We put on yellow slickers and golashes
Over our carefully chosen outfits,
And I strike a flare
To tint our world red
As I take you down
Through my cellar door.
4. Warehouse
The rainwaters flow into this red room.
I lead you past hoses and watering cans
And take your ivory hand
To protect you
As we cross spider’s webs
And beetle’s nests
To reach the very back
Of this dusty chamber.
A secret knock on a secret switch
And that which I love most
Is now in your charge as
I take you through the hidden hallway.
5. Kingdom
An angel may have brought you,
But a devil will take you away.
You’re here inside my kingdom
And without a word to say.
The marble, floor to ceiling,
And the goldworks in between
Shine yellow through the red light
Cast on all that can be seen.
Here, come lie down on this angelic bed
And I’ll sing songs to you
While you rest your gentle head,
And I’ll wrap you in some feathers
Passed down from a royal son,
From a flock of geese hand-picked
by a young Napoleon.
I hold you with my words
As a siren holds her prey
And my arms engulf your body
And your hair smells like Earl Grey
And you give yourself completely
As I kiss you on your neck
And we move around the bases
‘Cause I can’t stop at a peck.
Here, come lie down on this angelic bed
While the subtle smells of Christmas
Float inside your porcelain head
And to my surprise, the rain grows cold
But no heart goes unread
As suddenly, the room grows cold.
We lie still as the dead.
6. Iceland
I can’t help but smell the fear
On the shadows of your breath.
Our hearts beat in time
With what can’t be rain.
“Relax. Relax. Relax. Relax.”
“Can you hear that?
Can you hear that sound?”
“Relax. Relax. Relax. Relax.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
7. Escape
The beetle’s nests
And spider’s webs
Have frozen solid.
The flare has burned out.
The marble and concrete
Slide us away.
What was dust is now
Crystal and icicle.
And we come out
My cellar door.
8. Okay
Oh, stopped the rain
And now it's snowing.
Inside, the candlelight's
Still glowing.
So stopped your fear
And now I'm showing
That inside, your
Desperation's growing.
Relax! Relax!
Relax! Relax!
All God’s children…
All God’s children…
Relax! Relax!
Relax! Relax!
All God’s children
Are ghost children.
All ghost children…
All ghost children…
All those children...
9. Back Inside
The slickers and golashes
Break away and melt
As we head back inside.
The snow falls all but silently.
The fireplace has been
Sufficiently choked,
But somehow,
The congregation of candles
Found the will to carry on.
As the last grains of time fall away,
It seems my goal has been met.
10. Finale
As we embrace and intertwine,
What’s mine is yours and yours is mine,
And heaven helped us have this time.
As we embrace and intertwine,
The snow descends on all that’s mine,
And blizzards never felt so fine.
As we embrace, we both resign
To share ourselves. We’ll be just fine.
Forever somehow lets us go,
And here we’ll stay, trapped in by snow.
That's it. Thanks for reading, everyone!
Copyright ©
butterat_zool
... [
2005-03-01 11:48:18]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Revisions
(User Rating: 1 )
by xrockstheheart on
Tuesday, 1st March 2005 @ 12:31:44 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| yours is excellent poetry. however, you should have seperated these so i could get credit. now i have to search for other poems and they may not be to my liking, you have sent me to poetry hell. |
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