poem – Page 14 – Wordsmith: At The Forge

Revisionism

by brian francis

Where once he was a hero
a man above all men
They made a great bronze statue
meant to raise and honor him
a horseman and his waving hat
stood there rearing for all time
reminding us how fate can rule
our lives when honor binds

The dirt that he defended
held his roots deep and firm
the southern threat has ended
and now correctness flows in tide
now those cherished memories
of his response to honor’s call
seem lost to those protesting
as they watch the statue fall

The World Tree

By brian francis

Hung as a sacrifice the wood held him tightly
His suffering accepted by his own word
spear pierced, his side, it flowed like a river
His life bleeding down into the well of Urd

Denied even water no hand could assist him
suffering alone he stared down into the well
as he sung to the runes tempting their visit
for nine days he suffered his own living hell

nine nights he stared; they deemed him worthy
revealing the magic of all the nine worlds
released he fell downward knowledge his power
raising him up the Valkyries wings unfurled

Author’s Note: been asked what the hell i’m writing about. so here it is– The norse god Odin sacrificed himself on the “world Tree” which grows out of the “well of Urd” his sacrifice was made to himself and it’s purpose was to learn the truths of the runes. In the end his actions where enough for him to learn the secrets of the runes thereby gaining the powers of magic over creation. did not mention in the poem that Odin at another time plucked his own eye out to gain wisdom.

Mother

By brian francis

From that first second, when you held me in your arms
when you looked at me and, smiling, loved so completely;
I have known that you were there for me in every way.

When I first slipped away and wandered – I was seeking you.
And, when fear then gripped me, in tortures lonely moments;
your sudden embrace relieved me and allowed me peace.

I have looked to you for guidance and safekeeping.
I have looked to you in happiness and in weeping.

And when the wounds of a hearty childhood left me bleeding,
with tears streaming down from reddened cheeks and eyes,
I sought the cure to all life’s ailing; always within your arms.

When defeat rocked me and sundered my strength and will.
In loneliness I called, silently, your name – and remembered.
Even then a warmth and loving peace engulfed my soul.

I have looked to you for guidance and safekeeping.
I have looked to you in happiness and in weeping.

And when joy has visited upon me and basking in its light,
I have sought you – only – to share in all of my dreams.
And for all of life I love and praise you, Mother.

I have held you in my arms and known true love.
I have sought you in my pain and found relief.
And I’ve shared with you in pride, life’s successes.

I have looked to you for guidance and safekeeping.
I have looked to you in happiness and in weeping.

Misanthrope

By brian francis

Devious eyes
watch every turn.
smoldering hate
effuses from within.
A smile conceals
the bastardly conceit
that drives
desires of domination.
Seductions face
is comely and coy
beckoning and stroking
the most basic of needs.
Self-image the weakness,
exploited with ease.
A smile — the door swings open.

Tapestry

by brian francis

Though the cloth is worn and faded
And the seams are stretched and torn
While the colors are less than they once were
There are no stains in this old piece of cloth

After years of work and squander
Mucking around in the refuse of life
Through a gift of spirit and wonder
Washed clean in the grace of His light

His heart is the way of salvation
Through love is the promise redeemed
Still torment beguiles with temptation
For acceptance is just but the seed

And this cloth is but a canvas
Whereon the masterpiece of life is beheld
And the stroke of the brush is creation
And the image is that of the self

Ritual

by brian francis

Runes and rhymes and fire’s smoke
sands drawn out, a careful rite
enticing ancient powers to come
Magic cast on the darkest night

circles chant and wander around
words as old as the sound of birds
they cast almost a warbling sound
round upon round of ancient words

Flames of blue and red and white
dance in the eyes a billowing flash
An energy builds with the final rite
Falling silent prostrate on the ground

Colors of Freedom

By brian francis

I guess your life is not what you dreamed it should be
You imagine liberty as something given to you for free
But look at the flag on the ground beneath your feet
As you dance upon it, your act of ignorant defiance
You can see the field of blue holding the union of stars
Vigilance, perseverance, and justice are reflected therein
While purity and innocence are the symbols in the white
And valor and hardiness are seen in the color of blood
That red which you tread upon in support of freedom’s ring
Symbolizes the price that was paid, for your rights, in blood
Fellow citizens who either never came home again
Or did so wearing their personal marks of honor’s sacrifice

It isn’t the cloth that you step upon that offends so many
It is the sacrifice that is endowed within it
That cloth has stood beside many a fallen soldier
And covered them in its embrace on their journey home
These are what you are dishonoring our fallen brave
I get that your anger is justified and I will stand with you
I will fight for your freedoms and liberties hand in hand
But if you keep standing on my flag, desecrating it
I will mark you my enemy — a traitor, a miscreant, a fool
As I proceed to defend that which I so proudly hail
and have sworn to protect — I will cry tears
as I beat the shit out of you, defending my flag.

The Great Depression

by brian francis

In the darkness I often lay
waiting patiently for the coming day
And while the night goes creeping by
I lay in wait but beneath I cry
I see my life as a challenge met
yet the reflection seems all regret
I wonder what others truly see
when their eyes alight on me

Sunshine brightens our darkened room
and still I lay with a heavy chest
No passion for life from a barren soul
burdens my labored breathing
I remember a time when I think I smiled
but are they true memories or distant dreams
What can one do but persist and continue
dragging the weight dragging and dragging

I’ll try to smile to shine a bit
for fear of revealing I feel like shit
I’ll laugh if it seems the thing to do
emotion like a burka a presented view
outward appearances a social game
unknown rules cloud constrain
What others find it so easy to be
rips at my soul and tortures me.

Copyright © 2020 brian francis

Around the Flag

by brian francis

Rally round the flag now,
oh, rally once again,
on with the battle cry of freedom.
We have never knelt before
and we will not now again.
We’ll stand, strong, and proud,
and defeat them.

Let the enemy beware,
let him cower deep with fear,
The flag is the symbol that we follow.
Terror might beset us,
But never will we fear.
The threat might be deadly,
but it’s hollow.

Vengeance in the air
we will have our moment then,
as we act with the might of our union
We will rally round the flag,
and find our comfort there,
singing proudly, with conviction,
the cry of freedom.

Rally round the flag now,
oh, rally once again,
on with the battle cry of freedom.
We have never knelt before
and we will not now again.
We’ll stand, strong, and proud,
and defeat them.

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