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I am a fortress.
"Build," was the command; I did.
Need a ladder out.

wherever you go
you will find a family there
climb over yourself
August 2020
Sadie Grace May 17
I sleep when the sun does
to hide from the dark in a fortress of sleep
But running doesn't make it go away
only more traumatic when you have to face it
I sleep when the sun does
missing the beauty of the stars
They speak a language I can’t understand
A language I might never learn
If I'm scared of the dark
Be That Rock
by Michael R. Burch

for my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Sr.

When I was a child
I never considered man’s impermanence,
for you were a mountain of adamant stone:
a man steadfast, immense,
and your words rang.

And when you were gone,
I still heard your voice, which never betrayed,
"Be strong and of a good courage,
neither be afraid ..."
as the angels sang.

And, O!, I believed
for your words were my truth, and I tried to be brave
though the years slipped away
with so little to save
of that talk.

Now I'm a man—
a man ... and yet Grandpa ... I'm still the same child
who sat at your feet
and learned as you smiled.
Be that rock.

I don't remember when I wrote this poem, but I will guess around age 18 in 1976. The verse quoted is from an old, well-worn King James Bible my grandfather gave me after his only visit to the United States, as he prepared to return to England with my grandmother. I was around eight at the time and didn't know if I would ever see my grandparents again, so I was heartbroken—destitute, really. Keywords/Tags: Grandfather, Grandpa, rock, shelter, fortress, strength, courage, angels, years, time, age, loss, truth, voice
Pan
Pan
by Michael R. Burch

... Among the shadows of the groaning elms,
amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves ...

... Once there were paths that led to coracles
that clung to piers like loosening barnacles ...

... where we cannot return, because we lost
the pebbles and the playthings, and the moss ...

... hangs weeping gently downward, maidens’ hair
who never were enchanted, and the stairs ...

... that led up to the Fortress in the trees
will not support our weight, but on our knees ...

... we still might fit inside those splendid hours
of damsels in distress, of rustic towers ...

... of voices of the wolves’ tormented howls
that died, and live in dreams’ soft, windy vowels ...

Published by The Chariton Review

Keywords/Tags: Childhood, dreams, enchanted, stairs, fortress, trees, damsels, maidens, towers, wolves, howls, oaks, elms, paths, pebbles, playthings, toys, moss
my way
is this
boundless spirit
of sound
splashing and
wise that
keen to
law this
Prodigy and
express thier
existence here
in count
with drama
and material
is facto
and witness    
of nation
ritual of law
M Grant Teague Dec 2019
Breach
Breach
Breach
The walls have a breach
Breach
Breach
The walls have a breach
Breach
Breach

Walking in my own head
Feel safe from the attacks of old
Yet there you are breaching
With eyes of pure gold

I thought it was over
I thought it was done

Why does the cage have to exist?
Why does this prison have chains?

I’m lost again.
Lost in the depth of your soul.
**** the universe that collided
Together to make us stand in
The rain.

You are leaving
I wish you were gone
The pain you give me
Is far too strong
Amanda Francis Sep 2019
You are a mystery. A riddle without an answer.
A tounge twister I can't wrap my sense around.
I would never find the answers in between your lines.

If you were a library I could never read everybook.
Not even if I could live forever.
Not even if your library would let me in.

And yet, on the cold ground I wait. My body caves in on itself, shrinking under the shadow casts by your walls.

Your fortress. Your empire. Your kingdom.

You are everything that I love and yet I am exiled.

Your name would hang above the doors in gold, glittering like the ice crystals freezing my shattered heart together.

But here I wait. And here I'd still wait.
Even after I'd gone blind, or forgotten how to read.
Because if your library ever let me in, there is no sweeter smell than old books.
Sabila Siddiqui Aug 2019
Pupils beamed with radiance,
and naive genuineness flowed
as the illusion of love came her way.

But behind the tugging of strings
was a skillful maneuver
with his foxy intentions.

As the strings were played
back and forth,
emotions began to be strangled
and the cords that were struck
created a melody
to the tune of his accordance.

The fortress began to whither
but he was tired of his own maneuvers
that he gave into dispelling his intentions
before the frontier guarding her heart collapsed.

Though the barrier to intimacy
did not collapse completely,
the intention of ones kindness broke,
the illusion of ones amiable action broke
as it became the an act
just to open the gate of letting one in.

Trust withered,
but hope seemed to still be lingering
as the good in them, she always saw.

But after multiple tries,
of her heart being played with.
It was locked,
to the ones who would come along.
M Solav Jul 2019
There is sunshine all over my face,
Oh but when will I see the light?
A bright blue veil covers all of space
Yet only clouds are seen in sight.

And figuring out a way out of it
Feels like swimming in the dark
Being dragged by the undercurrent
Holding breathe to find a spark

Yet I’m bathing in the sunlight
But the wind is growing cold
Merriment remains a surprise
With all the things that I can’t hold

So I grasp onto this feeling
A promise in which I can hide
I call vain hopes my fortress
Holding solitude by my side

I see the light is still abounding
Outside the confines of where I’m bound
All the plants are thirst aquenching
And necessity cannot be found.
Written in March 2019.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Mila Rose Jan 2019
I am a fortress,
I wonder around within myself,
searching for an open door,
shut,
shut,
shut!
No way out,
where do I turn?
For I, am trapped.
- Mila Rose
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