To begin, I have decided to post the poetry I've been writing with the help of my Muse. Much of it is raw, though I'll endeavor to edit and refine as much as possible before posting here. Two entries below.
Let Me Tell You About A Girl (part 1 of 3)
Let me tell
you about a girl
who fell
from the sky.
Midnight
hair uncoiling
whispering
a darkened
comet tail.
No fiery
torrent heralds her appearance,
no
cloud-rending quake,
no sonic contortion
of grace,
but a
crystal bell
starlight struck.
Ringing,
plummeting
until tender
grasses bow beneath
her gentle
soles.
And there
her pastoral eyes beckon.
Yet there is
no approach
in which
courage survives.
Each step
clenches,
withers
the heart’s
curiosity
its keen desire
in fear.
Skin and rib
become cratered,
smoldering
ember passions
left in the
wake of waves
until only
cold, gray stone
remains
unmoving.
_______________________________________________
A Penny For Your Work
Sift your penny from the chaff,
choke on dust, raw is the itch beneath
your shirt.
It's not slavery if they pay you.
Grab your penny from their waste.
Fingers stained, nails blackened,
nostrils numb to the gagging fume.
It's not slavery if they pay you.
Root your penny from the furrowed valleys,
spine hunched over, sweat raining
over field and orchard.
It's not slavery if they pay you.
Fetch your penny from the fell.
Shuttle fly and treddle pump.
Weave the weft and warp until fingers
dry and crack.
It's not slavery if they pay you.
Snatch your penny from the floors of Wall Street,
the gleanings from a raped world.
Your shoulders buckle, your hands break as they claw
and climb up the world you built from nothing.
It's not slavery as long as a penny assuages
the guilt within their souls.
_________________________________________________
Until next week....
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