How long must this go on? Staring; Being forced by the vacancy of word- to close my eyes and only imagine- There are visions of greatness- Without the power to intervene; To scar this damned life- And I can hear from the hideous shadows in the hallway; The laughter of my own demons
They know me; Much too well; Calling my name as though I should enjoy their company- When the walls of security fell down upon me; It was them that lifted them up; Only to drop them with a much deadlier force, than the time before- And I felt the bones crushing in my skull; Tasted the vileness of blood; While still I stared at nothingness.
I have to ask myself how long must this go on? How long will I remain on the bottom, before floating back to the surface in this pool of toxins? There it is again. It's pain and panic. Sweat beads rolling past my last heartbeat- It's over. The wait has been finalized. One word oozes from my lips.... Poetry.
DAMN! I'm sitting here, drop-jawed...you, my dear, are a force to be reckoned with. What a write--you have progressed into a master poet (not that you were bad before). EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!
What clarity of definition! Lisa this poem has such incredible energy, I can feel it bounce around in my cells! Another exceptional poem from you. Thanks for sharing! Kudo's!
The torture that you bring to life with your words is chilling, Lisa. This is an exceptionally vivid and passionate write that made the room spin in a swirl of confusion and fear. Your words cause me to experience the poem, that is the sign of a true talent. No surprise to me though, Lisa. I always know I am going to read something amazing when I visit your den. Passing passion to pen, that is what writers do.
Take care,
Sherry
I can only wish to be able to write with such emotion, passion and heart wrenching feelings as you conveyed in this poem Lisa. it screams of passion and fear and yet the last word redeems all and alleviates what fear you castinto the readers heart with worry of your well being. Bravo Lisa you are the "Grand Lady of Poetry" bar none.
hugs Felix
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on August 22, 2005
And well it shoud be that last word from the lips of an artist is what brought them to the dance . . . poetry. To suffer the pangs of purgatory while still in the grip of the earth's gravity is almost too horrible to explain, but you did it, you did it well. Great job!
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
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DAMN! I'm sitting here, drop-jawed...you, my dear, are a force to be reckoned with. What a write--you have progressed into a master poet (not that you were bad before). EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
Love Tinka
Eileen
Take care,
Sherry
hugs Felix