The sign of the seagoat of Capricorn Soared in the sky on the night I was born A curse upon the world some still believe A night to wonder and a night to warn A bitter night for many to receive My advent on that stormy New Year's Eve
Born in the lightning alighting in fire Born in the thunder and under the ire Of those who took it as an evil sign Dark advent of a dangerous desire But one young mother took it as divine That I should come to her and she was mine
She held me as her destiny her chance She cried "His name is +Steven Curtis Lance! "
I stand just under six feet tall and weigh one twenty five I have my ups and downs but I am glad to be alive Described as "willowy" I am flexible and youthful My eyebrows tweezed nor am I diseased and to be truthful I am just an innocent at dawn and dusk I repent My every sin be it of commission or omission If life had gone as planned I would assume the position Of senior pastor of some German Lutheran parish
But that along with all the a cappella I cherish Is water over the dam approaching fifty I am A graceful and balletic metrosexual poet I present myself clean-shaven tinted strawberry-blonde A sonneteer who knows no fear of Silke madly fond Asperity austerity but some prosperity A company called Silke LLC you may know it Google me and you will see my unfolding destiny
I was raised by my mother who taught me to be gentle Courtesy and civility would seem fundamental Much more elegant than the Taliban morality Of that scary quite disturbing red-state plurality With Bush and push and shove above well-mannered decency While you might not agree I find it charming to be me
This book of my life written page by page And forming link by link a single chain From youth through experience into age Is that by which I rise and live again Beyond my days into a time unknown Unto me now as I write here alone
Into my future and out of your past As I become a present after all And now you hold me in your hands at last
The only paradise beyond the fall For sinful mortals and poets like me Who live but little time and then must die Is to become a part of destiny And leave you this to remember me by
To those who have suffered bitterness can Prove to be the stone by which we stumble Undoing all we work for taking all We have loved and built however humble The rock by which we ultimately fall It has destroyed many a stronger man Than me to see it suck the life away From those whom I have loved the light of day Gone out from their eyes the sun from their skies Bitterness their undoing in the end Has spoken to me that this must not be The ruin of the rising of our dreams
There must be hope in sorrow though it seems These wings are broken now yet we must rise
Suicide has taken many a friend This horror would not have happened unless We had been overpowered in the dark Alone at the crossroads of bitterness Where shadows of grief are so sharp so stark Burning alone in the crucible of Suffering with no light no hope no love Turning to stone there with no one to care Where it is always night and never day Alone on the telephone it has been there Waiting in the silence to bear us away At the existential moment of despair
Therefore now as I mark a half a century I resolve I must leave bitterness behind I dare not let it hollow out my trust I care not for corrosion nor for rust By which bitterness would eat away my mind To rot out from the inside is no destiny
Poets make words take wing and fly but why? We can we do we must yet still we die But every day we save the world this way
I only do this only come to say Look up and see the sun smile above you And feel this warming kiss upon your skin
I only want to tell you I love you To invite you to watch the dance begin As the moon embraces the clouds tonight
The world is singing right before our eyes A play of shadow of darkness and light Of waxing waning morning noon and night Of that which is born and of that which dies
Poets sing giving voice to everything
The morning star is burning so intense No other light can be seen in the sky
This is the moment this is the suspense Between the dark and light the night and day The light by which I write by which I live
Day has yet to be born night yet to die That I am here to see this here to give Myself completely give myself away To this contention of the elements This yin and yang of time to see it turn Floods me with exclamations with laments
I am this moment! I transform I learn I turn I burn I earn the recompense The pay of the poet: intense suspense!
I mean to say just what I mean Not to be silenced nor ashamed Seeing I might as well be seen
Being myself and being named Better to mean just what I say Than to regret what might have been
Being credited being blamed Is better than fading away The memory that I was here These words I write for you today
I do not mean to disappear I would not be forgotten by This world and when my time to die Comes you will know that I was here
Copyright MMIV Silke LLC
Want to review or comment on this poem?
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Reviews of "Who the Hell is +SCL? Well... Finding Myself at Fifty"
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
Reviewed on December 29, 2004
I don't think that you could be considered a curse I rather enjoy your poetry.
Destiny's Daughter by Frances Altman highlights events in the life of Mary Edwards Walker, maverick suffragist, Civil War doctor and only woman Medal of Honor recipient.
My memories as an immigrant professional woman in Ottawa, Canada 47 years ago. A new life after having survived the liberal war of a new country Bangladesh on December 16, 1971.