If Poetry is Ambiguity...

[Rachael]

Hey! I know that poetry might not seem like much, but I wanted to see if you guys had opinions to help me refine a few... Also thinking we could start up a poetic thread, so to speak...

Yeah.

Erm.

On with it.

Faded Memory
I forget
the last time we stood
eye to eye, and words
spilled from our lips
and we were happy.
Do you remember?
I feel the sunlight
the memory of warmth
but the words I cannot
ever
seem to recall.
I miss us
unity of two
but you aren't here
nor your eyes, nor lips -
the words won't be found alone
open eyes, I wake each morning
to find you -gone.

I love you.
At least
I remember that much.
Even if next time we meet
we, both of us - dead
I will remember
warmth and love with you.

Poem for my Mother

"Welcome to the world," he said
"take my hand, hold on tight -
while I can't save you from the pain
I'll keep you warm, if that's alright
with you." And I, I cried
to hear the words least wanted
come from lips thin and paled,
reaching through the shine of time
to touch that reality
where we once stood, side by side
and argued over who was right, while now
you are so close, but moving far, far away.
They say the anger comes in time, the rage that cries
"I left your side!"
taking the pain and love in stride
you're pale, mom, it hurts. Maybe it
is not the best of me to write where others list
their pains and triumphs, but the rest of me
cries out to scream! Damn whatever foolish pride
I hold because I cannot only cry to you
waste our minutes with tears that always wait
for tomorrow. I say I love you, can you hear?
While you lie sleeping, somehow near
to crossing yet so far away
I'm selfish too - Why can't you stay?
I guess I learn in retrospect
but grief right now is not the less
for seeing how I'll smile again
without feeling lost or lonely
I heard you tell me not to ever
settle when it came to life - not
love nor wish nor fantasy to lose because
of age. I hope you dance, mom,
when you die. I know that while I will cry
and comfort give to those I can
you'll be happy, whole, painfree again. Now the waiting
scars my soul, but not much worse than these words or
this un-poem, this hard truth
I need the space to breathe.
Thanks for the good times, Hawaiian trip
the laughter and the loving grip
of your arms wrapping round my chest
squeezing out all sad regrets
I hear you always as you say
"My daughter made me proud today,"
and as you say how proud you feel
for every minute that you steal and I
will never lose that part of me I gave to you.
"I'll love you forever, I'll love you for always,
as long as I'm living
my
mother
you'll
be."

Spring

Loved by flowers
Bright young child
Eyes spring green
Running wild
Amongst the days of light and sun
Oh to see this child run.

Laughter rolling
through the fields
chasing horses
nipping heels
Amongst the mischief and the fun
Oh to see this child run.

Spend a year
Spring is new
and suddenly,
so are you
Amongst the days so long begun
Oh to see this child run.

Time goes by
Seasons pass
happiness is
all that lasts
Amongst the fears and the un-won
Oh to see this child run.

Hearts grow old
and seasons cold
Child ages
Changing molds
Amongst the tired and the young,
Oh, I'd seen that child run.

Now that child
man, he sees
his own child
on his knee
Amongst the real and the done,
Oh, he'd see that child run.

Welcoming Arms

I remember
Doesn't everyone?
To call home
And smile
And say,
"I love you, Dad."
And mean it.
I know joy
in having family -
You will know the joy too.
Smile!
I found you.

Achievement

My last drop of water I offered to a dying man
Lifting his head, guiding the canteen to his chapped lips;
Was this the reason I had come here?
Would someone send me off in thirst?

I can't seem to remember thr brightness of the sun
Even the faces of my children blur into the background.
They are no more real than the battles we have won -
No more real than the words, "Hope," and ,"Dream."

Reality is found among the shivers of the night-watch
the glinting of a gun, the shifting men
Inbetween the rocks and stones that jab into every side
My reality, my bitter-sweet life.

I was fighting for a cause, once
to a thought that lingers as worn as the moon
with every pitfall, every crater, grown more beautiful
more desolate.

Home.
All my thoughts are of home, even my dying ones -
As the last drop of water from another man's canteen
slides past my bloodied lips and I'm gone.

...


Okay, so not much uber-happiness, but... Poetry! =D