DNA

DNA

By

Lisa A.Williams

Patterns

woven into

my existence-

Old fears,

hurts and

the loving of things.

How the ancient music plays-

Am I the only one who

hears my beginnings

in the strings?

I hold all mothers’ pain

inside like an embryo

waiting to be born,

waiting to be remembered.

I feel the covetous ache

of my ancestors

to set things right

no longer blind sided

by eons of self punishing love-

A well worn path

where their ghosts

still linger.

Pale Butterflies

Pale Butterflies

By

Lisa A.Williams

Feeling freedom through

outstretched wings of

imagination,

soaring over the

green sea

feet still touching soft blades

somehow they knew

they were “flying”.

                                                            Cropped crowns of sun gold

racing against the wind

in the fields

of backyard magic.

Once grounded,

feeling the brittle fall

of harsh words and

 stinging discipline

wings clipped-

yet always there is a wishing

to fly again.

Moon

Moon

By

Lisa A.Williams

What tales

this

dark sky stone

could tell

having been since

the beginning,

witness to cascades

of awakenings

and

descending downfalls.

Its cold silence

leaves me wondering,

if it is at all lonely

in its heaven?

Leave Me a Little Tenderness

A Little Tenderness

By

Lisa A. Williams

Leave me a little tenderness,

as the shadows

of another dying day

make their way

and the dark

envelopes this stillness

our silence lullabies.

Leave me a little tenderness,

as the years adorn

our hearts, with worry

and loss.

 Us-

 still choosing to masquerade,

in tender youth,

while time passes

trying to sharpen our

soft edges

that she, herself has

has worn away,

in an existence

angels may not choose.

Sunset

Sunset

By
Lisa A.Williams

Old man-

wishes he were young

again.

 His sun is setting

west of all those dreams

blanketed with indifference.

He remembers-

the sounds of home

still echoing in

the empty halls,

feels his youthful love

                                                             before it turned to stone.

Ocean Reposted from 07/2012)

Ocean

By

Lisa A.Williams

In your sound,

I am silent.

In your depths,

I feel forever.

In the '66 Malibu (Reposted from 07/2012)

In the 66’ Malibu

By

Lisa A.Williams

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?

Silent Sisters

Silent Sisters

                                                                                   

Lisa A.Williams

They catch

each other's gaze

in a second

they know-

They feel the bruises

each has suffered,

no words spoken

strangers in a storm

they call their lives.

In that moment

when eye meets eye

all is said.

Dandelion Wine

Dandelion Wine

By

Lisa A.Williams

Two girls-

In a grassland

Of

  unwanted things-  

such nuisances in their

untamed growing

reaching for warmth,

eying  the clouds

in the lazy entourage

of blue beckoning.

Waiting to find

a place

as they mix the rain

with wild yellow-

tasting

the bitterness

of their creation.

August

August

By

Lisa A.Williams

August

came and

I remembered the

onslaught of things lost

fading in their sun scorched

fields, withering to fall’s intrusion filled

with promises of redemption, I breathed in

her solemn splendor, felt summer’s sorrow knowing she

would return in her same old lazy way,she

                                            would be unchanged, it is I who would be different.

"Black Sunday" (April 14,1935)

“Black Sunday”

(April 14, 1935)

By

Lisa A.Williams

From the dust

 lives were changed-

Vengeful wind swathed

 their world

  in earthen ash-

Dawn became

dusk,

blinding

 views of sun

and sky.

The taste of earth

 upon  tongues

speechless

in  hunger.

A grieving land

parched and unforgiving-

as they watched each other

grow thin from want.

So thirsty

they begged for rains

who refused to christen

the dry earth.

So much was gone

but not faith.

They knew heaven

would eventually hear

and she would cry

                                                                        for their loss.

From Choke to Storm

From Choke to Storm

By

Lisa A.Williams

Held back

by the choke-

The voice 

which was hers,

so lost in the storm

words forgotten

buried deep.

Branded by memory-

all those things

which made up a lilfe.

Feeling the thunder

her world trembled,

an avalanche threatening

to bury her beneath.

She would feel the choke,

be lost in the storm again

but

the sky would clear,

the rains would cease.

She would raise her voice

and sing

her own song,

so long in the making.