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Willis Norman Feb 2015
Pardon me for looking past
You please
You were a delight
To see
A beautiful sight
To these
Wandering eyes
Your green
ones caught mine
Months went by
You, all the while
Were the isle this
Anxious mind
Rested in

And forgive my
mistaking you
For a harbor
Sailing away
Even farther
And maybe for breaking
Your heart
But from the start I
didn't trust my own

Suddenly
The decision is easy
Not one made in a war
As lovers before
But a knock
On my door
A response
To a little thought
How could I not,
When I hear you, then,
Dearest friend,
Let you in?
Willis Norman Feb 2015
I’m wasted on
Mistrusted remedies misplaced among a messy world
Amidst the misappropriated masterpieces
Lost within our land
We were made for mighty minds
Need to metamorphosize
Find time
Stop the blind fantasizing
Come to die
Otherwise,
We future butterflies
Are consequently caterpillars
Falling from the trees
Can’t fly yet
Although we deny it
We are earthbound
Unfound but by the resounding sound of the hounds of time
And they will find us as we hide beneath our fear
Of death
Or we could face it
Face them, face death
This breath could be the last of the old way
The old order
At the border and the shore
Of life we know
Lets set sail
And stop pretending

I know it’s coming
There’s a mending

A trusted remedy
I beg you please
Don’t expect it from me

But if there’s a spirit in your flesh
Take the road and let it groan
For your home
Then listen

See there’s a meaning to the madness
It distracts us
From the atlas
In our souls
Neatly folded
Put on hold
The search for gold
Till we have time
Maybe till we’re older
Baby maybe till we’re bolder
Stay awake and let’s be soldiers
Storm the gates although they smolder
Though they’re heavier than boulders
Time to take back
What was stolen
Before time
Willis Norman Mar 2015
Restless thoughts
Patterned movements
Centered mind
Cast to wind
Think in colors,
Motions, rhythms
Sparks

Aging wood
Food for wondering
Warm veins wander
In and under
Burst in colors
Torn asunder
Heart

Light and heat
Gathered where
Dark and cold
Held the keys
Breathe in colors
Let our words be
Sparse
Willis Norman Mar 2015
Die, ambition; earth awaits
You'll lie there soon and there you'll stay
And apathy: your twin, I say,
Beside you I myself will lay
His cruel and contorted face
So bent from years of shunning grace
So trapped in his immobile state
Afraid to move for fear of waste
Such irony that now his fate
Is lying still within his grave
Willis Norman Sep 2017
Paint me with
Broad brush
Where fine lines
Would define
And find
What is not found.

I am not
Clean-edged,
Clear-cut.
I am vague
And ghostly;
Who can know me like this?

Can even God
Know the shape of mist?
Willis Norman Feb 2015
If a life’s a tree
And these branches bring
Nothing but leaves
Bear with me
Till spring

— The End —