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?





 


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Matriarch



Matriarch
By
Lisa A.Williams


All that unsettles me
is because of you-


Madcap of indifference,
“flat effect”
they called it.
Feeling for yourself
came easy,
feeling for me-
impossible.
Through a child’s eyes,
too narrow to see, I
never understood.
Blame
I wore like
a second skin,
shielded beneath
its heavy shroud
Now I
Choose to bare
my genesis-
however pierced I feel
when I remember
                                                                  your cold glass stare.
Why
couldn’t you be
what I needed?
There’s a void
All my wishing can’t fill.
All my strength can’t erase.
Only you could occupy that shadow
and now
you’re gone
.
Who
will cradle me?

September 11

September 11


Ghosts-
in the distance
of a whisper,
always here-
always between
each others' sorrow.
Mourning
does not diminish,
it only seeks 
a hiding place
behind walls of fear
we have constructed
in remembrance of towers
thought of as forever,
reaching to God
on a sad September morning
when for an instant,
time stood still
peace was shattered
and came tumbling down
in a torrent of glass tears.
Now
a silent sorrow
as bare as bone-
screams
your names.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Dream

Dream

My offering-
was never enough.
Fair haired man,
sipping lemonade
in the garden
knew
it was letting go
I was most afraid of.

White flowers-
sinless, sun-thirsty blooms;
release, easy for them.
Willingly whisked away
by soft sweeping wind,
scattering their petals
in the hills beyond-
summer snow.
Embracing their freedom
of rootless release
from dying vines
of a soured season.
Fair haired man
led the way,
I followed.
Turning back, I saw
my chains unravel
into pure earth,
blanketed
in summer snow,
bittersweet taste
upon my tongue.

My Mother's Eyes

My Mother's Eyes


Blue communion
of 
restless sea 
and silent sky
an undertow of illness
behind those stormy eyes.
Stone
between us
always-
dark catatonia
kept you hidden.
Always I wonder
who you were,
always I wonder
what parts of me
are you?