Author: lbstowe

My recent yesterdays have been good. I soak my soul in pride; 
I believe the voice inside my head, to me, has often lied.

My pieces before me, many fold, proves false its diatribe.
The dreams I’ve foiled & knots I’ve coiled to this critic I ascribe.

The detractor perched inside my brain has often cast its shade.
It commentates each move I make & sows doubt o’er all I’ve made.

I cannot shut this cynic up but I can smother it’s flame.
Its embers always will be there but its fire my peace won’t claim.

A skeptic lives in all our minds; we decide how well it thrives.
By pumping blood in the kinder heart, the hope in us survives.

A future in love I’m e’er able to see.
Though the present has yet to gift me.
“Live your nows open so later can come”…
Wizened wishes that “I” becomes “We”.

I’ve predicted a day when love does reign.
Though it’s dawn is reluctant to deign.
Outlasting the night with morning in mind…
Is the moonlight that brightens my brain.

Sighting horizons to see through the veil.
Traveling there because here goes stale.
I follow the map laid out by my heart… 
My adventure encompassed in scale.

I come to a place where I’ve seen us meet.
I’ve surveyed these environs complete.
You are not here but I go on & on…
Was my vision of you a deceit?

Weary from searching & hope’s heavy weight,
 I must stop for relief from my freight. 
I’ve reached halfway in the effort for us.
 I’ll be here, it’s your turn & I’ll wait. 

In the sluice of my heart & the forge of my mind,
Throughout both organs my spirit does wind.

I explore halls in my head & my chambered heart.
Their walls embossed with both knowledge & art.

My wits the Greek chorus to my cardiac play. 
Waxing & waning in concert each day.

The mind & the heart, the other’s yin to one’s yang,
Coexist for life like a bell & it’s clang.

Grey matter & muscle a reciprocal whole…
Bad blood between them fermenting my soul.

I don’t believe in Lady Luck…though she’s oft preyed o’er me.
I don’t hold fast to magic spells…though I am cursed to see.
I don’t abide the gods of man…though pointlessly I plea.

I don’t accept your “other” think…I trust my fellow man.
I don’t defer to Justice blind…but I’m not better than.
I don’t submit to base instinct…before I act, I plan.

I don’t fear time or ravaged age…my heart is hale & live.
I don’t despair the grave to come…my words & deeds survive.
I do have faith in naked hope…in that brave shade I’ll thrive.

The early blue of precious dawn, 
Says darkest night is almost gone. 
I wring the ache from limbs & yawn.
…
Day casts light on shades of blood;
Demarking time the wounds did flood. 
Wet still red; Dry brown as mud.
…
Proof abounds of fatal fight, 
Of darkest deeds in dead of night, 
Buzzards circle & crows alight.
…
In field & memory corpses strewn.
Events recalled are cause to swoon.
Horrors evidence of Death’s spry tune.
…
I alone am left alive,
My guilt cut by a choice to thrive.
The grist of this day a perpetual drive.

I fish in my own stream of consciousness.
I pan for gold in the thoughts I dismiss.
I sieve the sky & plumb the abyss.
I burn my dark & I freeze my bliss.

I sift thru words to build this verse.
I wring my blessings from my curse.
I accept the bad to prevent the worse.
I’m driven forward when I reverse.

My muse the spark of a single line.
 The rest is plucked from effort’s vine.
My blood & sweat a brine divine.
I thrive where vision & toil combine.

My craft is a spell of sounds I confect.
My phrase is constructed to infect.
My rhythm hypnotic in its effect.
My cadence & content composed to connect.

I quit brain’s brook my catch in hand.
I redeem my specie for capital grand.
I pay the pilots & reflect in the sand.
In ice or fire my attentions disband.

I felt what I touched & touched what I felt in a life lived creatively tactile. 
The pen, the clay, the paint & the song have made every pain more worthwhile.

I’ve unleashed my heart, my mind & their soul in hopes of a life lived free.
I’ve called on my senses to interpret the world & with lidless eyes I see.

I’ve broken the molds & sculpted anew an existence flush with hope.
 Humbled by death, I relearned how to live redefining what with I could cope.

It’s isn’t your life & it bears no resemblance to what you hold in the norm.
It’s devoid of ambition & thirsty regret & the cruelties of function & form.

I nourish the day & follow it’s wake as my path reveals itself.
I don’t overfeed “needs” or “musts” or “wins”; those goals gather dust on a shelf.

All of us are friends in death; so why be enemies in life?
Rich & poor or them & us, no one exists without strife.

We must enter & leave this life all alone & if fortunate, we’re not in between.
Winter will come, as the seasons do change, but we strive for bon temps in the green.

Though color will drain, as leaves in the fall, we celebrate harvest’s change.
X marks the day, the almanac round, as we celebrate seasonal range.

Many decry the new or unknown, from the fear of life’s variations.
Ignorant are they that the normal they know is the product of eons’ mutations.

Enjoy the journey, the fun & the fear; we return to the black in a blink.
We’re agents of living from beginning to end; but departure is written in ink.

How to define an ally?
Someone refusing to stand by?
Comrades don’t rest & strangers protest.
Do they hold & lend voice to your outcry?

What are the objections they make?
What’ll they say out loud for your sake?
Rights are in peril by religion gone feral.
Will they save you from fervor’s wake?

Will friendship alone suffice?
Are they timid with words of advice?
Going out on a limb if the prey isn’t them. 
Will they willingly self-sacrifice?

Do they desert you in dreadful fate?
Do they forsake you to violence & hate?
When loyalties duel are they petty & cruel?
Will they grieve you too little too late?

An ally will be at your side.
They share both your shame & your pride.
The bond will stand; we fight hand in hand.
In concert we’ll silence the tide.

Harken now to court in session
Lend your ears to rights’ regression.

Bound by oath the bench crafts law.
Matriarchy’s muffled by patriarchal paw.

We know the score; we’ve always known!
Yet waited til all protections were blown.

The big top sighs & flaunts it’s flair.
 Both innocent & guilty in blinding glare.

We once & again know who’s to blame.
We feel their crimes; we hate their game.

Power is burning both ends of its wick.
Ideals are aborted by realpolitik.

Obliged to hear what we’ve seen already.
Torches & pitchforks on sale at the ready.

Laws are voided & everything tenses.
The bases will boil without consequences. 

Justice is sharpening her rusty sword.
The captains of sinking now bid you aboard.

In feeble objection we’ve tuned it all out.
We’ve no more excellence to bandy about.

 The final acts will bay for blood. 
The whip & the gavel will snap & thud. 

Jeering madly in a funhouse mirror.
Testifying won’t make consciences clearer.

When, at last, the showcase is concluded.
Most of the audience will still be deluded.

A circus began at the end of the world.
 Its wires snapped & our freedoms unfurled.