Monday, September 29, 2008

The Memory of Light

Tendriled nightmares coil
Writhing blind knots
Restrict my inner vision
Peripheral blurred neuroses lurk
Morbid melodramas spin symbolisms
Of a tragic ending
Beyond the memory of moonlight
plaintive note of hope recedes
In the saturnine breeze
I am Lost to lower oscillation
Vestigial presence of the divine
My racing pulse thrums a dirge
for the waning day

You are the fulcrum
*Levo mihi per vestri lux
The arbitration of angels
My inner spirit luminesces
Hope regains her tenuous place
I turn my tearstreaked face
To the memory of light

**Amo Deus perficio lux
EGO mos orior iterum

TL Boehm

*Lift me with your light
**Like God's perfect light, I will rise again

I have determined not to write any more poetry that celebrates, glorifies, or illuminates death or darkness. So when I signed on this morning, this awesome morning and the wretched muse started dragging me down that same old sorry path, I wrenched the poem back from her clenched fists.
I didn't say I wouldn't write 'bad' poetry...but I won't write death.
You are welcome to correct my latin. I never was very good at declining and conjugating.
I've taken your advice - all four of you and done the stoopid....I'm starting a group on multiply - Inscribed. It will be for writers, essayists, those of us who have a thing for fiction, prose, narrative, memoirs and all that other junk we can't classify as 'poetry.' Of course poets are welcome - I believe everyone is a storyteller...but the group will focus on other types of writing primarily....for you poets, it may be a good challenge to check it out sometimes. peace. Page isn't done yet. I'll post the link tomorrow. Right now I'm still hanging curtains and putting down carpet. LOL. But you can search and join if you want.

I have learned

I have learned that blood and bone
Are no assurance of love
That the parents who should protect you
Forget you
In the wake of their own unspun lives

I have learned that the newborn life
Once cradled in my arms
Won't consider my sacrifice
In the wake of unbridled rage
Love is a hollow lie

I have learned that I am a monster
Murderous and cruel
Selfish and judgemental
Producing bitter fruit
That withers on the vine

I have learned that the world
Doesn't love a dreamer
War and tragedy churns
In the belly of Babylon
The meek are weak expendable
Casualties of circumstance
Destined for demise

I have learned there is no sanctuary
No refuge from the malice
Washing over me like sleet
On a winter day
My heart is cold stone
I am lifeless

I have learned that intoxicants
Only fuel the ache
magnify this emptiness with
shallow platitudes
The flavor of the day
Scraped off the spoon tomorrow

I have learned
I still don't know how
To give up the little dreams
In the silence of my soul
I gather them piece by piece
Hiding them from myself
For fear I'll do me harm

I have learned I should love myself
I have learned....I don't know how to love
TLB 05/20/08

*I'm havin' a moment. I'm sure it will pass. If it doesn't - maybe it will fuel a rant/blog. In short, my kid is on the last nerve - and I am realizing the honeymoon is over at Writers' Cafe....its more like "Myspace poetry cafe" over there...which leaves me with no venue for fiction....since I'm working on at least three novels - well.....

I'm not a poet. Never said I was. I am capable of cheesy lyrics - but I am more betterer at dialogue and crappy plot lines. And now once again, I may as well write for a box. Cuz I ain't gitten no love.