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The Unknown Poetess

How one spends an evening free
speaks a lot about character–
a malleable element–
often bent backwards in youth
where paths collide and chaos borne.

All remedies of odd sorts
lend their hands to the trigger,
human forms emerge,
more beastly than of flesh,
cannibals quenching thirst.

Disguised in mockery
the prey becomes the predator
and the predator becomes the Devil
down a drunken well,
no one hears. No one cares.

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Reversal 185

Below the window
They witness
Amassed wealth
Classmates lacking
Scholastic achievement
Gold forks and fine china
And they who conquered night
Scrawled names in wooden desks
Given a paper in pride’s name
Stand barefooted below the window
Perfection failed to fly
If such a thing exists.

Heavenly Delight 184

…Spoon
Sugary medley
Release of pleasure

Speak softly and you shall hear
Longfellow whispering in the air
Be not dumb, driven cattle!
Youngsters are the new channel.

Through opened windows the scent of Spring
I turn to the students, my legs dangling
Footprints on the sands of time
Not too late to make your life sublime.

They watch me as I watch them,
Silent respect for the poem,
Even the ones hardest to tame,
Listen intensely inflamed.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
Blessed be those the bravest
Stand alone against a wave of scorn
And through hardship is reborn.

Skip the gossip and step outside
There is much to be realized.
Learn to labor and to wait,
School is just one of many gates.

*Based on a teacher

Little Prayer 182

I wake to strange dreams,
a distant voice,
On my bed I weep
for dwindling Faith,
faded fate,
And the fear of letting go.

I am a locked door,
One side of me pounding
“Let her in, open up.”
The other blocking
fear of what might walk in.

I have always felt your presence,
Though try I did to ignore,
In retrospect how can I forget,
Miracles performed.

Most recently I have wondered,
Pieces placed together,
Two souls planned to meet
Set each other free.

Forgive me for my faults,
My anger and despair,
Guide me as you always did,
I shall be confused no more.

How the years have flown
One pencil scrawl to next,
1938 in aged green
Now it’s 2011 black ink.

Many have sat here alone
Without the cushion and wheels,
Books piled mile high
Scholars from the past.

Stranger 180

Stranger–a word to be left alone
Kept distant and vague,

A face on a television screen
More like a target board
All repressed emotions launched
Without fear of recourse.

Sacred distance between the viewed
And viewer–
If broken they merge into one beast
Tears own heart in half
Devours the therapist.

Anonymous haters hail
Mighty ego boost,
Point and laugh at a stranger,
An inside joke no doubt.

Beware if one normal day
The gap begins to close,
Find a viewer viewing you–
A reluctant baffled muse