|
Back
Yesterday blazed with confession
and today.. frozen
and I could have heaped
dream upon dream upon dream..
but the pile
already near to toppling
with the weight of tears..
I just couldn't
A step backward then
and it's too many steps back
to meet you.. but it's okay
I forgot about them anyway
The unanswered doorbells..
each and every one
an unwelcome guest
the odd stranger, the stray, the pests
cats control the vermin
but the swarm is much too much
fuss..
and bother
I wipe my hands then
like they do in the movies
aloud to no one exclaim, “that is that”
heave a sigh of a job undone
and with this stooped shoulder
I've become..
my mother! and I laugh
and trace her footsteps
back and back
but it's too many steps back
to meet you.. and it's okay
I swept them all away
See them there?
All the tattered ends?
Just the tell-tale signs
of where I've been
The rag rug bulges
with the things swept under
and the braided oval of the weave
weeps.. I swear it does
The dust and sweepings
make for dry eyes
but still it cries
I can hear it.. even in my sleep
I wish it would rain
and wash me clean
Of confessions: I have none
but old ghosts haunt sometimes
Regrets? Of course
but I'd not trade this rotten kingdom
(infested though it may be)
for anything
Those are mine..
the shadows looming large
up in the rafters
way, way up high where I can't reach
not even with a broom
Blazing..
and today, frozen
© Dominie Bennion
[Table of Contents]
Afraid I Stepped Into The Light
Afraid, I stepped into the light
and embraced was I.. released
at peace was I.. hidden from the beast
which haunts my too-dark mind
with eyes closed, fast to sleep
it's too long in coming.. once again
Afraid I stepped into the light
once, I was embraced.. and again
Was I released? At peace?
Was I hidden from the beast which haunts?
My too-dark mind with eyes closed fast
... to sleep.. too long coming.. yes, it is
© Dominie Bennion
[Table of Contents]
one sandwich short of a picnic
the lovers, besotten.. their list was forgotten
the meal not missed.. when at last, they first kissed
'twas the blanket they spread.. not the jam on the bread
the taste of their love being sweeter instead
© Dominie Bennion
[Table of Contents]
to seed
there is a danger
in coming too close
but distance is sometimes
hard to keep
the space between
the lines drawn
the comfort zone
hard to meet
or to place in happy
coexistence
don't touch me there
all my sore spots
still tender to the probing
the tears too near the surface
the confessions not ready to divulge
the lessons learned
the too many times burned
the tables turned
the scars i've earned
and i find myself
seeking closeness
and closure at the same time
wanting it all, still
and nothing much, after all
the contradictions astounding
confound me
conflicted within
and constricted without
without
the space i need
the touch, indeed
and grows the weed
with it's showy flower
through the cement cracks
comes the summer shower
to rain
to rain
to rain down on me
coming too close..
i see the likeness of you
in my head
and the ghost of your scent
lies sweet in my bed
your touch but a pining
your thought just an ache
and i want.. what i want
but i get what i make
distance.. is hard to keep
under the summer sky
i wilt in time with the season
as all things do and will
turn to seed and to sleep
in the long dark cold
uncomfortably composed
compost disposed
don't touch me there
the sore spot exposed
stings still from an idle
lack of care
but i don't go anywhere
that i don't find you there
in the static
the background
the white noise
... wallpaper
© Dominie Bennion
[Table of Contents]
sacrificing self
she spoke and spoke and spoke
important things and heavy words
about herself and heartsongs
and the bittersweet rhythms
that accompany them like notes
trickling down the ivories
and violin strings off in the distance
in the cold dark far away places
she keeps hidden from sight
she spoke off all the things
that go bump in the night
and the way it feels when they pound
pound their way into her safe haven
pound their fists into her dreams
the fearsome images conjured
by her imagination alone
alone to grapple with
alone to overcome
she spoke and spoke and spoke
of trials and unending tribulation
and the road less traveled being
potholed and overused despite it's name
she spoke of hopes dashed and rebuilt
of faith renewed again and again
and her stubborn persistent belief
belief in love transcending all
belief in the core of humanity being good
which is contrary to her experience
she spoke and spoke and spoke
and it made no difference
she tilted the scales none at all
the wind didn't shift nor change
the tides didn't turn sooner than expected
and love, feather winged and eros sent
didn't light with quicksilver speed
at her anxiously awaiting feet
she spoke, finally, of small nothings
that meant something once but now
regretfully diluted by the wash of years
years spent trying to make wishes count
years plucked like petals full of questions
she spoke and spoke and spoke
and choked back the tears and pain
until all the important things drained away
all the heavy words deemed less so
and only nothing was left to chance
to chance a new ache
to chance nothing at all
was the sacrifice she made
better to not leap
to never again bound
to trust not in elusive wings
strung loosely together
with broken heartstrings
and flung from eros' crooked bow
she spoke
and the lesson painful to learn
best to rest in peace
to not divulge
to not confess
the meat of her mind
the fruit of her thought
the dreamspun want and need
to give herself to silence
and so to her unending sleep
© Dominie Bennion
[Top of Page]
|
