in hidden corner there's a place for sleep
you know it well and will come out to play
in your good time meanwhile you'll let me keep
my larger vigils on this cloudy day
seeking the wisdoms of a time of pain
with half an eye cocked for the coming rain
and senses focused on approaching night
(we know it's coming though the day is bright)
hands put together purpose that is kind
while every heart is poised for instant flight
into the bright dominion of the mind

the lives of people never seem so deep
as feline hungers in their simple way
you are the wanderers and we the sheep
our normal tasks will seem to your delay
from urgent hunger and there is no gain
from what we're doing that seems to you plain
it does not come within your line of sight
provides you nothing of your household right
the sort of thing that is best left behind
lest it should bring a darkness or a blight
into the bright dominion of the mind

your eye is focused on the things that creep
across the yard that you would wish to slay
we know this and for fortune will not weep
but wonder at the words you'd like to say
if speech were given and you could complain
at being bound in by such a golden chain
as if we punished your for our delight
and thought your chiding visions could indict
our cruelty in keeping you confined
but see you move with happy summer light
into the bright dominion of the mind

prince you might think this subject impolite
and such debate is not the best to cite
yet we must take the pathways that we find
from your dark rule of chaos and old night
into the bright dominion of the mind

we looked on open water for a week
a warm green sea true eater of the sun
great arm of ocean not river or creek

this was our respite from a world made bleak
by constant duty service on the run
we looked on open water for a week

in hope of healing certain the unique
sense of the name would give us what we'd won
great arm of ocean not river or creek

immensity of peace that we could seek
as fullest respite when each day was done
we looked on open water for a week

with smiling faces that forbade critique
of any statement that would overrun
great arm of ocean not river or creek

where we end moving easily and sleek
towards the sunset knowing it was fun
we looked on open water for a week
great arm of ocean not river or creek

Chaos erupts through the screaming
The words jumbled, corrupt, unusable
Meanings lost
Thoughts backwards
YELLING doesn't help

Anger boiling, spilling over
The order all confused
Emotions explode
Feelings incorrect
YELLING doesn't help

I was trying to say one thing
Out came another
You didn't hear me stumbling
Or even try to bother
To see past the screaming anger
Neither of us listening because
YELLING doesn't help

I needed to air my frustrations
Not scream for an hour
Then cry for three
I needed you to hear me
Not fly off the handle
Then see my point an hour later

Next time I'll write it down
YELLING doesn't help

Watching the media, all hyped
Due to their own accord
Pushing us forward
Helping us to goard
Upon the sins we so readily devour
All within this 11th hour

Hearing TV tell us to care
About all these material things
Never telling us quite how
To deal with the emptiness this brings
The greed it creates all but devours
Then jealousy soon flowers

Everyday our fascination grows
Within this world we live
And every day our lives compact
To where we cease to give
To those around us, that become devoured
We stand still, such the coward

Violence, agony, death and despair
Climb up the ranks
Feeding the greed and jealousy
Gee, Thanks!
Yet we are still fascinated, devouring
Their celebrities powering

All these empty thoughts we need to think
Which force our hearts to sink

We need to get back to what is to give
And remember what is like to live

As a community

© September 25, 2009 Deanna Repose
Repoosted from: blog.deannarepose.com