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Apr 2013 · 533
A Thin Place
av willis Apr 2013
Lead me to a thin place
Where I can feel complete
Where Earth and Heaven meet
To form an endless lace

Bring me to the  crossroads
Up in the mountain pass
Down where streams of glass
Move along in ceasless flow

Let me make my bed
In the shade of musty pines
Stretching on in ragged lines
Where form and function wed

Lead me on a wild hunt
Into the thicket thick
Into town where people stick
Their heads out in affront

"Have you all gone mad
Running freely through the black
Out before the dawn of crack
While we're in our night gowns clad?

Do you know the hour
That we're pulled into this game
Before that great ball of flames
Into the sky can tower?"

"It's the time between times
Where forces sweet and fay
Move about in endless play
Back into the hills we climb"
Mar 2013 · 2.5k
Tin Man
av willis Mar 2013
In a land beyond the rainbow
Stands a dark decrepit wood
Where monkeys glide between the branches
And witches live, both bad and good

There within its tangled branches
Lies a path bedecked with gold
Leading brave souls who do not blanch
On to wonders yet untold

Near this path of yellow mortar
Stands an ancient half hewn tree
Missing wood, about a quarter
Standing **** for all to see

In this wood there stands a hatchet
Once beloved, now fraught with rage
Just another rusted gadget
Cast by in the wake of age

On a gnarled and twisted root
Centered in a mushroom ring
Stands ***** a metal figure
Frozen ever in mid-swing

There he stands through frozen winters
There he stands through summer's heat
There he stands through April showers
Standing ever on his feet

Once he glowed a gentle pewter
Once he moved with solemn grace
Lines of rust bedeck his figure
Streaking slowly down his face

Once he stood a man of flesh
A simple hewer of the wood
Who held a cabin near the creek
And loved a maiden fair and good

In the village near the forest
There he sought to win her hand
A debt of love he'd pay with interest
If beside his side she'd stand

In the woods he sought the bride price
Needed to start their new life
In the trees he found the journey
Soon to be defined by strife

By an elm his axehead sundered
Cleaving cruelly through his arm
Through the boughs his loud cry thundered
To the heavens in alarm

To the ground his lost arm plopped
Landing softly with a thump
To the town the woodsmen hopped
Grasping at the ****** stump

There he found the village tinker
And roused him roughly from his bed
Dragging him out to the workshop
Leaking out a wake of red

There he begged the wizened workman
'Make a new arm from your cans
For i marry in a fortnight
Let my bride take a whole man'

So the old man plied his trade
To make a limb of springs and gears
Twisting tendons in a braid
To move his fingers through the years

Now renewed to former vigor
The Woodsman went back to his trade
Returning to the morning's rigor
Back into the ancient glade

Little did the doughty hewer
Know his axe contained a curse
Stricken on unknowing users
Causing their limbs to disperse

By an oak he lost his left ear
By a beech he lost the right
Hazel took him down a peg
And by a yew he lost his sight

Through the week the tinker labored
On in a rush to replace
Just enough of the woodcutter
To accept his bride's embrace

On the day his nuptials dawned
The woodsman clanged into the square
Passing through the crowd with awe
On to meet his maiden fair

There she stood beneath a trellis
Sky blue ribbons through her braids
Oh, she was a sight to rellish
Worth the trial of the glades

There he stood forever altered
A shadow of the former man
In this form forever haltered
To this shell of springs and cans

The cutter broke into a dash
To wrap his woman in his arms
On the cobbles his feet clashed
Causing her no small alarm

From the altar his bride fled
With screams of terror in her wake
On the day  he should have wed
Became the day his heart did break

Suddenly devoid of purpose
To the copse the woodsman flees
Never ere' again to surface
From the shelter of the trees

Months went by the woodsman toiled
Day and night, no pause to sleep
Day and night his kettle boiled
Over with the urge to weep

Till the sound of April thunder
Rumbled in the cutters ears
Bringing rain that tore assunder
Dams he'd built around his tears

So between his swings he wept
Of loss and of abandoned trust
Trails of tears in his joints crept
And hardened slowly into rust

Now he stands in frozen duty
Saplings rising all around
Dreaming of an ancient beauty
Long surrendered to the ground

Till the day another maid
Returns to bathe his limbs in oil
On that day he'll leave the glade
Moving on to other toils

Then the rust begins to part
Then the magic starts to slake
Then the woodsman finds his heart
Then the Tin Man starts to wake
Mar 2013 · 730
The Thorn in My Side
av willis Mar 2013
I knew a man caught up in paradise
Who stepped beyond this flesh curtain
Long enough to see for certain
Sights that strive against the eyes

He walked a path that angels trod
Weaving his way through seraphim
Ducking mighty cherubim
Onward to the house of God

There he walked among the martyr
Men who'd bent but did not break
Women who had faced the stake
Who's belief they would not barter

On beyond untainted orchard
Onward over the crystal lake
Leaving memories in his wake
On to the house of the lord

Finally he stood at the foot
Of a cliff at eternity's edge
Staring out over the ledge
At a people caked in soot

Out over his former life
His mangled body fraught with flaws
His weary spirit bound with laws
That twisted his side like a knife

And at that moment he understood
It wasn't in his fate to stay
In mountains where the angels play
The must return to cities crude

And all of heaven heard his cry
"Please take this thorn from my side
That I might stand with pride
Before it is my day to die"

But pride was not to be his fate
And as with all who are loyal
But not yet annointed with oil
Until his day of glory waits
Mar 2013 · 550
The Son
av willis Mar 2013
'It's sadly true, dear grandpa,
That the rough men are so rare
And that folks who uphold the law
Face tasks that none should bear

But I see things, dear grandpa,
That your tired eyes yet miss
And if only you could see them
It would fill your heart with bliss

For I see them in the alleys
And I see them on the streets
I see them in their cruisers
And i see them on their feet

I see them in my church
And I see them in my school
I watch them as they search
And bring justice to the cruel

I see them from the backyard
And I watch them far from home
As they take the giant's path
To places none should roam

You say the rough man's gone
But i see him every night
As my pajamas  i don  
He is gearing up to fight

And he stands up in my tree house
To keep watch behind my fence
And he stands there through the night
Without ego or pretense

The goons wear different masks now
But their faces never changed
And the less we choose to cow
The more they become enraged

But still those brawny thugs wait
With bated breath in thrall
For the chance to berate
And to pound and break and maul

The rough men walk among us
And they strike out swift and strong
And we'll walk home safe tonight
For I'll one day join their throng'
Mar 2013 · 604
The Son
av willis Mar 2013
'It's sadly true, dear grandpa,
That the rough men are so rare
And that folks who uphold the law
Face tasks that none should bear

But I see things, dear grandpa,
That your tired eyes yet miss
And if only you could see them
It would fill your heart with bliss

For I see them in the alleys
And I see them on the streets
I see them in their cruisers
And i see them on their feet

I see them in my church
And I see them in my school
I watch them as they search
And bring justice to the cruel

I see them from the backyard
And I watch them far from home
As they take the giant's path
To places none should roam

You say the rough man's gone
But i see him every night
As my pajamas  i don  
He is gearing up to fight

And he stands up in my tree house
To keep watch behind my fence
And he stands there through the night
Without ego or pretense

The goons wear different masks now
But their faces never changed
And the less we choose to cow
The more they become enraged

But still those brawny thugs wait
With bated breath in thrall
For the chance to berate
And to pound and break and maul

The rough men walk among us
And they strike out swift and strong
And we'll walk home safe tonight
For I'll one day join their throng'
Mar 2013 · 830
The Codger
av willis Mar 2013
'Where are all the rough men?'
Said the codger to the son
'For it's time we were home again
And daylight's almost done

For though this park is fair
To look upon in light
The shadows truly fill the air
With goons who long to fight

Where are all the rough men
Who used to walk this park?
For it's time we were home again
Before it grows to dark

They're gone, i tell you lad,
And we'll never get them back
And you should be remorseful
And mournful for our lack

For now we're watched by half-men
They're eunuchs one and all
How can these skinny jeans stand
When the blows begin to fall?

Show me the thugs of yester-year,
Those bold and brawny men
Who'd hear the war drums pounding
And come running glen to glen

Bring me back my brothers,
And these villains one and all
Would run back to their mothers
And seek no other brawl

But my eyesight now forsakes me
And my hand forgets its wrench
And my legs will not allow me
To go far beyond this bench

Were that i was sprier
And still retained my brawn
But now I simply tire
And the last rough man is gone'
This and the Son are meant to be connected, two halves of the same story.  The idea in a nutshell is based off of the quote by George Orwell, "Good men sleep peacably at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on there behalf."
Mar 2013 · 574
A Veil of Glass
av willis Mar 2013
They say a mask worn long enough
may soon become your face
And that a heart devoid of love
will seek any embrace

For some hide behind pages
While others choose the flask
But either way we walk a stage
In a panoply of masks

And yet each day I choose
In increments of years
To carry on a ruse derived
From the basest of fears

Fear of peer's opinion
Of other peoples thoughts
In my mind takes dominion
And once settled starts to rot

Fear of phrases hobbled
Keep words off of my tongue
Forgotten and half cobbled
They die forever young

Lord, if you have called me
To go about your task
I ask to move unhindered
My face clean of this mask

Let my words move freely
And stand with their own grace
Or lacking of symmetry
Just fall flatly on their face

Let my eyes gaze honest
although they may gaze crass
Until the time you manifest
a simple veil of glass
Feb 2013 · 510
An Ancient Field
av willis Feb 2013
I sometimes close my eyes
And perceive an ancient field
Where honor never dies
Behind an ancient wall of shields

I walk among the Peers
I've bled with since a lad
Beneath a copse of spears
I stride out brazen clad

The sun is hot upon my back
My helmet fills with salt
But then the foe starts his attack
So it's forward we vault

We have no drums for rhythm
No pipes to keep the time
Our forces fill the schism
Our Andreia fills the rhyme

Our Lambdas chip and crack
As the arrows fill our shields
I feel my Aspis thwack
As I bring my fear to heel

We finally reach their line
And our dories come to bear
They call on the divine
To deliver them from there

And I hear my captain say
As I walk amidst the squallor
"If all the world were just
There would be no need for valor"
So the back-story on this is I've always been a bit of a laconiphile, in fact I tend to list Gates of Fire by Steven Pressfield as one of my all time favorite novels.  I'm not, however, the worlds biggest spartan afficinado, that honor goes to a fellow i'm currently working with.  So great, in fact, is his love of Laconia, that one night on post he fashioned himself a spear out of a random broom handle, 550 cord, and God knows what else.  One night, he came up to the post I'm working at and asked me to sing him a song.
"You don't want me to do that," I tell him hoping to spare his ear drums.
"Sing me a song," he insists.
So in the end I compromise and end up reciting a few of my poems.  By the time I finish the first he had a look of enchantment upon his face.  At this point he asked me to write him a spartan poem.  So I wrote the following piece, basing the theme off of the immortal words of Aegisaleus, "If all the world were just there would be no need for valor."
Feb 2013 · 710
The Giant's Path
av willis Feb 2013
Let those who long for peace prepare for war
We walk in the wake of those who go before
Who dare to dream and dared to long
And dared to strike out swift and strong

They dared to love they dared to lose
They dared to think they dared to choose
They dared to stand as sword and shield
They dared to stand and never yield

Through wood and plain they carved a trail
'Neath sunny skies and stormy gales
Through steamy jungles and deserts bare
Beneath the waves and through the air

They slept where wise men fear to dwell
They supped with dragons that dine in hell
They trudged through mud and passed through sand
And carved through rock with barren hand

Now time has passed and memories faded
The Giants are gone and we stand jaded
Of all they dared to leave behind
Of all its glory we stand blind

But some of us dare not forget
The road that's carved from blood and sweat
It's made from love and forged with wrath
We dare to walk the giants path
Feb 2013 · 522
The Giant's Path
av willis Feb 2013
Let those who long for peace prepare for war
We walk in the wake of those who go before
Who dare to dream and dared to long
And dared to strike out swift and strong

They dared to love they dared to lose
They dared to think they dared to choose
They dared to stand as sword and shield
They dared to stand and never yield

Through wood and plain they carved a trail
'Neath sunny skies and stormy gales
Through steamy jungles and deserts bare
Beneath the waves and through the air

They slept where wise men fear to dwell
They supped with dragons that dine in hell
They trudged through mud and passed through sand
And carved through rock with barren hand

Now time has passed and memories faded
The Giants are gone and we stand jaded
Of all they dared to leave behind
Of all its glory we stand blind

But some of us dare not forget
The road that's carved from blood and sweat
It's made from love and forged with wrath
We dare to walk the giants path

— The End —