Consequences

It was like looking through glass;
clear, certain, no distortion.
The decision was made.
Take the step.
Now, nothing is clear.

Mag 238

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

When Dust Settles

"Wait until the dust settles,"
Patience cried, impatiently.
"When sorrow and regret have
claimed their spots in corners
with cobwebs,
and anger rests
passively upon the table,
then the light of forgiveness will pour in
and expose them, 
so that they can be swept away."

Mag 214

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

The Canvas

You came to me wrapped in skin;
soft, smooth, clear, flawless,
skin.
I cherished it, cared for it,
bathed it, oiled and powdered it.
What clean, tender, soft skin.
I kissed it, caressed it, pampered
and protected it as a fine
piece of art.
I didn't know it was only a
canvas.
I thought it was perfect
as it was.

Mag 213 

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

His Room

I cleaned your room today.
Evidence of tortured teenage paradox
strewn across the floor.
Baseball cards, skateboard magazines,
and candy bar wrappers among
empty beer bottles and photos of a girl give
evidence of the man struggling to emerge.
Tucked in rumpled linens, an empty cigarette pack
concealing what you didn't want me to know.
I knew this day would come.
Mothers aren't ignorant of such things.
How do you think you got here in the first place?

Mag 212

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

Remember

Remember the past, but don't linger.

Remember what we had, but move on.

Remember what we lost, but don't grieve.

Remember? You captured it all in song.

Remember the joys, the laughter.

Remember the heartbreak and tears.

Remember the tender, stolen kisses.

The memories sustained us through the years. 

Now at last we're together.

The memories of love brought us here.

It was the captured song we remembered,

And it kept us from all fear.

So remember the past and linger.

Linger in my arms and in my heart.

And when once again, death comes,

We will never again be apart. 

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

 

Manic

You blew in with no warning and,

in typical fashion,

with your destructive, acerbic, tongue,

peeled the paint from off the walls,

and left me covered in the dust of

your destruction. 

So here I sit

trying to decide where to

begin picking up the pieces

leftover from the tirade.

Flip the switch.

The lamp is still on.

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

Mag 210

The Rape

Sleep on and hear nothing.
Black Gold, Texas Tea.
Sleep on while outside Mama cries.
Mama screams.
Sleep on and see nothing.
Mama bleeds.
Sleep on and feel nothing.
Mama struggles, Mama chokes.
Be the silent partner,
while outside,
Mama dies.

© copyright K. Lynette Erwin, 2014

Mag 208

Facade

I heard the song wafting from your window;
Maria, Juliette, Roxanne.
I swear you were standing there
only a note ago,
but when I ran up the steps to peek,
I saw your facade.





© copyright K. Lynette Erwin, 2014
Mag 207

Spring

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes. 
~Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

Fire and Ice

FIRE AND ICE

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice. ~Robert Frost

I carry your heart

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~e.e. cummings

Winter Conversation

I listen to you explain the difference
between a right brain thought and a left.
I am distracted by the smell
of cold on your face.
I lick it away like a child
with an ice cream cone
sticky fingers and sweet tongue.

Aware that I have been here before
I pause in your words.
I have slept in this flesh,
dreamed these winter bones.

Waking in the darkness between us
I hear frost sweeping the porch,
edging toward the morning.
I reach for your hand.

What, you whisper, voice hoarse with dream.
My lips, swollen with you, cold,
are silent.

~Joyce Wakefield 

Blow Thou Winter Wind

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho! the holly!
This life is most jolly. 

~William Shakespeare

A Winter Night

Now winter nights enlarge
The number of their hours,
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.
Let now the chimneys blaze,
And cups o’erflow with wine;
Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine.
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall wait on honey love,
While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights
Sleep’s leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispense
With lovers’ long discourse;
Much speech hath some defence,
Though beauty no remorse.
All do not all things well;
Some measures comely tread,
Some knotted riddles tell,
Some poems smoothly read.
The summer hath his joys
And winter his delights;
Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,
They shorten tedious nights.

~Thomas Champion, 1617

Living beyond fear

 

 

 

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

 

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

 

It is our light, not our darkness,

That most frightens us.

 

We ask ourselves, who am I

To be brilliant, gorgeous,

Talented and fabulous?

 

Actually, who are you not to be?

 

You are a child of God.

 

Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.

 

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking

So that other people

Won’t feel insecure around you.

 

We were born to make manifest

The glory of God that is within us.

 

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

 

And as we let our light shine,

We unconsciously give other people

Permission to do the same.

 

As we are liberated from our own fear,

Our presence automatically liberates others.

 

 by Marianne Williamson

My favorite Shakespeare Sonnet

Yesterday was the 400th anniversary of the publication of Shakespeare's wonderful sonnets! Since I was a young girl, I have loved Shakespeare's sonnets and at one time I made it a habit of reading at least one a day. (I think that might be a great habit to get back into, come to think of it.) So in honor of the occasion, I have posted my favorite of Mr. Shakespeare's sonnets.

SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

For Lovely Heather

We're daughter and mother
Not so long ago.
We give and take
And take and give
Along time's endless row.
Love is passed
And love received
To be passed on again:
A precious heirloom
Twice, twice blessed,
A spiritual cardigan.

I'll put it on
And treasure it,
The me I have received,
And when the roles
Reverse again,
I'll have what I most need.

So may our love
Go on and on,
A hundred thousand years;
Mothers and daughters,
Daughters and mothers,
Through joys and other tears.

~Anonymous

I'm Longing for the Day

This is a repost from my blog, Life in Shades of F-major, from September. I thought it was appropriate to repost here. Just some of my thoughts and hopes for a brighter future.

I'm longing for the day when the arts are prized above mere entertainment.
I'm longing for the day when the word "intellectual" isn't synonymous with "elitist".
I'm longing for the day when the written word is valued, once again.
I'm longing for the day when recognition for great achievement is prized above celebrity.
I'm longing for the day when the quest for knowledge walks hand-in-hand with the quest for truth.
I'm longing for the day when sports celebrate human achievement rather than mimic human conquest.
I'm longing for the day when people are truly color blind.
I'm longing for the day when spirituality takes the place of religion.
I'm longing for the day when war is no longer an option.
I'm longing for the day when reason and enlightenment rise above mere superstition.
I'm longing for the day when love overtakes hate.