Sunday, December 30, 2012

Do You Know?



Do you know?
By
Lisa A.Williams

Do you know
the words
 distant heart,
Eden still sings
in her paradise
so long buried in the
 dreams of men?
How she rose
from the thorns
wiping the blood
of time
from her garments of
forgiveness?
Her heart,
 though wounded
still beats
the numinous song
of angels.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

We Can't Leave This



We Can’t Leave This
(December 14, 2012)
By
Lisa A.Williams


We can’t leave this
emptiness
even the earth feels
in her core,
from the loss
of innocence
taken under
a bright sky
who could not see
what lurked in the shadows.
Heaven now cradles
what earthly love cannot.
Their empty arms
embrace each other,
seeking solace
for a grief
                                                                        like no other.

Wednesday's Wishes



Wednesday’s Wishes
By
Lisa A. Williams


Wednesday’s wishes
followed Mercury’s muse-
So much to say,
enough to fill an empty
sky-
Wishes for more,
another life
to begin again
holding death at bay
To remember
all this-
 Cache of understanding
and acceptance
in a place where time
has no mercy;
on the heels of the messenger
                                                                         it flies away

Sunday, December 16, 2012

What Can be Said?

What Can be Said ?
By
Lisa A. Williams


What can be said
about the darkness
which filled
a sunny school day
where a raging monster
took their lives away
with cold metal
so easily put in his hands
bent on destruction?
As little lives
were sacrificed-
 time stopped
for all of us
uniting us in a sorrow
screaming to heaven
as God looked down
and wept on a world
                                                                     gone so wrong

Friday, December 7, 2012

Records in the Snow (reposted from 09/2012)



Records in the Snow
By
Lisa A.Williams
                   


Mother-
thin blood
between us.

Fathers-
one stood by,
one abandoning
his absence
always feeding
a green need.

Cast into the cold,
we found our music-
45’s
haphazardly tossed
like Frisbees,
landing upright
in a dead of winter snow,
our treasure creating
a warmer air
between us.

Rushing in
to hear old songs-

“Hey Paula”,
our first discovery
followed by
The Tokens
and their sleepy lion
then the Beatles asking
                                                                  if we “want to know
a secret”
and did we “promise
not to tell?”

Girlish giggles
filled the tiny room.
For a short time,
we were bonded
by our love for the music,
only for it to be consumed
by old hurt’s homecoming.

I wonder
after all this time,
if she still remembers
the records in the snow?











Wednesday, November 28, 2012

There is a Window


There is a Window
By
Lisa A.Williams


In my house
there is a window,
murky with doubt
and duty.
I know there is something
beyond the pane
so clear, revealing itself
to my half closed lids.
Fear filled years
to wipe it clean
and see beyond.
So tainted by debris,
the time consuming task seemed
endless
but I grew tired of dreaming
wishing to see
all that I had missed.
A rain of words-
some following a thunder
deluged,
I refused to sink-
and tasted truth,
seeing my reflection

Monday, November 26, 2012

In The Doorway

In The Doorway
By
Lisa A.Williams


The masses,
cloaked in ritzy black
passing without
notice-
 Girl in the doorway
 beautiful face
bathed in addiction.

 Staring
at the life not hers-
 huddled in embryonic loss
shivering in
 December’s cold embrace,
thirsty veins in want
of Utopia.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Metamorphosis



Metamorphosis
By
Lisa A.Williams


And so we stand
facing each other
ghosts haunting our past
fear lingering
in the dark of ourselves.
Years have made us strong
we embrace it all-
the old we couldn’t let go of,
the new which
 fills us with hesitation.
We sift through all
 those days we
 breathed away,
scattering ourselves
to a merciless wind
who will transform us-
                                                                    in spite of ourselves.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Says The Moon



Says The Moon
By
Lisa A.Williams


I will tell-
says the moon
of
the beginning,
of rising seas with
 their hungry waves
 lapping thunderous tongues
 once tasting
 sweet, salty earth.
Now
earth cries tainted tears
darkened by
 the greed growing shadows 
of more..
Her core hollowed soul
tired of giving,
weeps poison
                                                                    tasted in silence

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Stain



Stain
By
Lisa A.Williams

Hands-
dirty
no pureness
could erase.
Eyes-
tired,
dark
remnants
from so  
many years
in the confines
of a modern day
sweatshop
 The bitterness
of regret
for seizing
a livelihood
which beckoned death
with each passing year.
The wood-
its smoothness,
 bathed
in the dark stain
of pretty poison
summons the riches
of buyers
who wish
to lavish homes
with the labor
of
a poor man’s hands.
Another man gives
up the ghost
amidst toxic
occupation
to feed a family
he leaves behind.  
His passing
haunts his child’s heart.
Another man dies
in his living,
this time, it is my father.




The Skin You Don't Know



The Skin You Don’t Know
By
Lisa A. Williams


Wear it gently-

Feel its unfamiliar sheath-

Hold

the one it was born to,


in all its keloidal ache, and

need.

Savor timeless

brine

trickling down, crimson faces

 burnt by enduring

 winds.

Wear it

until it molds to the shape

of all it must embrace.







Wednesday, November 7, 2012

In the '66 Malibu



In the 66 Malibu


My dad, singing,
“I’m so lonesome I could cry”
How the wind loved to tousle
her thick dark, hair
as my mother, leaned her face toward
 the evening sky.
 Blue eyes
closed to the darkness.
Me, in the back seat
wishing dad would choose another song,
 when he sang the loneliness into safekeeping
  only to be taken by his voice into
 “I can’t help it if I’m still in love with you”
 I chimed in with “How far is Heaven, I want to go,
 I want my daddy, I miss him so”.
As the car pulled gently into the driveway,
he finished his rendition of
“Make the World go Away”.
Now, all these years later,
my parents, gone,
The 66 Malibu but a memory,
I wonder did the love they had
for each other, make them so lonely
they cried until
 the world did go away?
And did my soul
know I would later
sing the same song
about my dad, holding
that heaven in my heart
 while missing
my mother’s eyes,
 hoping
one day she would truly
see me?

Monday, October 29, 2012

Common Thread



Common Thread
By
Lisa A.Williams

Those stories-
how we own them.
Dark witches
casting spells,
knights in shining armor
who never arrive
 to happy our endings.
Silence doesn’t dilute
sorrow’s bitter taste;
It rests inside
coma sleep,
shutting us down
until someone stands up,
arms outstretched
and says
“this is who I am”
then we awaken.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Phyllis

Phyllis
By 
Lisa A.Williams


We don't speak of it-
the loss
 silencing our world.
How arrogant of the sun
to rise
when we were facing 
the black hole emptiness
beyond,
not enough breathing space
for our own grieving.
Some pain can't be shared,
sometimes we are islands
surrounded by restless current,
fearing if we were
to plunge,
we'd breathe in 
another's tears
and drown.
It was good to love you,
but oh how the earth trembled
when we had to say goodbye.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Providence



Providence
By
Lisa A.Williams


Words-
lost in long held breath.

She sits and stares
through the pain,
feeling
all the years-

Wondering if this journey
was her true destiny
or
did she just lose her way?

Monday, October 15, 2012

Mine


Mine
By
Lisa A.Williams


You cannot
  take what is mine-
 cloth I have woven
  from fragments
of a lifetime,
weaved
in hopes
it would shield me
from the blows
of arctic winds.
I learned the cold
would penetrate,
 and I would feel
the icy  bone bitter,
 stillness
of  winter-
The timeless trek
my heavy feet
traveled
in the age old desire
that I could feel
warmth
in someone’s understanding.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Enigma



Enigma
By
Lisa A.Williams


Distance
Desperation-
Creators of the mystery
that is me.
In a cold want,
the embrace, seeds
of  my beginning.
Parts of both-
one I held dear-
the other a denial
until I felt her sorrow
in my own woman world,
man denying dimension;
the dark endless sea
where only woman
can rise to see
the horizon
                                                                       that is her.

Bard



Bard
By
Lisa A.Williams


If the moon
had no sheltering
sky-
alone in the vastness
of a wasteland,
holding all its light
within
so it would be
if pages were left empty
because fear silenced
                                                                            the cry.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Deep Water



Deep Water
By
Lisa A.Williams


I know
the way she feels-
Immersed
 in the turbulent tide,
torn between the freeing
of the waves
and the steady
earth
Standing still,
    eyes fixed on the horizon,
the moon
casts heaven’s reflection
skimming the deep.
How the lunar light
pulls to call her home
but she is earthbound,
turns away
from her reflection.
 Blanketed in
darkness,
she wears the shroud
of “happy”
and returns
to“life”
 drowning
in all its illusions.



Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Mermaid's Song



Mermaid’s Song
By
Lisa A.Williams


Echoes-
from sea to stone
ascend to kiss the sky,
ancient muse
earth cannot recall.
 Fins
of forever
sweep the tide
in a dance
 only the free remember.
 Her glistening rises
with the waves
as she breathes
 both sea and sky.
How the jealous land
aches for her.

Friday, September 21, 2012

I Have Three



I Have Three
By
Lisa A.Williams


I have three daughters-
 old souls
 of
my being.
In their company,
peace comes easy
as I look into our shared blue eyes.
We talk of history,
of rights and wrongs
the world has committed
 in all her glory.
We wipe each others tears
when life has dished out
more than we think
we can bear.
We hold each others  hearts,
precious beatings that they are,
blood remembering
of how they were all
once shared in a tide
of dark understanding.
I love them more
than they will ever know.




Poor Man's Eyes



Poor Man’s Eyes
By
Lisa A. Williams


I looked into
a poor man’s eyes
where darkness
filled a need
and
want filled the room
as he sat
in his corner
shutting out the world,
no longer seeing
the child’s smile-
so far from his hell
he couldn’t bear
it.
Life took his body,
riches stole his soul,
living was no answer
so he died-
a little more
 each day.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Years



Years
By
Lisa A.Williams

 World riddled
with  uncertainty
and endless
letting go
just as we begin
to taste and savor.
Roots-
steadfast spreading
through the dark soil
of our beginnings,
breathing in
life, then
watching as it vaporizes
into a faraway heaven which
sighs at the slightness
of our being.
Centuries of timeless songs
unearthed by
the aching which
fills the silence
                                                                  of a newborn dawn.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Desert Heart



Desert Heart
By
Lisa A.Williams


Desert heart-

nomad in a lonely land of
                                                                     fallen memories
brittle pieces of self-

cracks in the surface
only we ourselves can see.

Parched heartland
which can give no more
than what is

beneath the stone
we have set

in our solitary quest
to quench
the  undying thirst

for the why
 of us.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Records in the Snow



Records in the Snow
                                                                              By       
Lisa A. Williams




 Mother-
thin blood
 between us.

Fathers-
one stood by,
one abandoning,
his absence
always feeding
a green need.

Cast into the cold,
we found our music-
45’s
haphazardly tossed like Frisbees,
landing upright
in a dead of winter snow.
Our treasure creating
a warmer air
between us.

Rushing in-
to hear old songs-

“Hey Paula”
our first discovery,
followed by
The Tokens
and their sleepy lion.
Then the Beatles asking,
if we “want to know a secret”
and did we “promise not to tell?”

Girlish giggles,
filled the tiny room.
For a short time,
we were bonded
by our love
for the music,
only for it
to be consumed
by old hurt’s
homecoming
.
I wonder
after all this time,
if she still remembers
the records in the snow?