Work so hard
at what you love
that your idols
become your rivals.

This is not poetry. These are just journal entries dude..

take rain from sky
take the way tall men straighten your stance
take the students of dance
see the little ballerina stretch her toes
see her mother warm with the floodlight

take your plea to the judiciary
take your eye to the statue of David
smear on the dust of Somalia
rub raw the frost of Croatia
refresh your aim in the heights of Angola
but do not stop only at this

breathe every impediment
trust every promise of clemency
stumble if you will
fall under cease-fire
take it all

take the watchmaker
bent over time
with fine tools
clasp each second

take the sculptor who
chisels and scalpels for the grandiose

later in your armchair
fold creases in your newspaper with care

be with every nourishment
be with the cloth of your nakedness
make sail for your harbour of origin

remember the milk of your mothe?r
warm or cold or sweet if it is so
appease hunger
with the ambidextrous mouth
of a soldier
fed with death in his jungle

be the bystander, be the bi-partisan,
the *******, the timeless,
the dancer
be it all

breathe each increment
do it now
measure the infinite
the possible


MChallis © 2015

a taste upon the tongue
of unlikely understanding
as the rage boils through and through
until it cannot be suppressed

drowning deep in standing water
we lose our feet to sink below
into a seeping whole of nothingness
buried beyond the depths of our chest

uncanny to the news of reality
shedding layers of our skin
while replacing madness with sadness
and we dare not protest

but a moment in time is all it takes
to determine what the taste shall be
holding on to pride and hateful creed
yet letting go of all the rest

She tests her own being.
A legend loved by all.
With her and Lancelot betraying
Destiny, the kingdom would fall.

Can we rewrite love?
Can we rewrite scripture?
Can we rise above?
Can we find our picture?

My dear Guinevere,
No more nights of tears,
Make the right decision,
Please, my lady, my dear?

We had a perfect plan.
We should have rode,
We should have ran,
We should have never spoken again.

Tearing down her future
They would burn her at the stake
As love and loyalty shared no shelter
Their dreams together, they couldn't make

It's now too late
It's now time to cry
It's now the last goodbye
It's not like you didn't try

But lest we die...

My dear Guinevere,
You have nothing to fear,
Your Lancelot is here.
This love story will withstand the years.