poem – Page 4 – Wordsmith: At The Forge

Stumbling Through

by brian francis

Seeking out the source of inspiration
I found myself in a deep dry well.
Nothing there could offer stimulation.
So alone I built myself a living hell.

Hidden in dusty volumes: past consideration.
Doodles lining margins, once passing time.
Scanning ancient notes with contemplation
Finding only aggregate no thoughts to bind.

In frustration I lashed out against creation
Yet again my drunken muse does not respond.
So alone I sit in my silent meditation,
Imagining the banks of Walden Pond.

Then gently, without notice, sleep overtakes me.
The day then fades away and soon is gone.
Dreams, torment, and chase; will not let me be.
A restless soul who fights to carry on.

When morning comes and wakes my sleeping sorrow
Another day to seek and find that, what I need.
A turn of phrase or a thought which I might borrow.
Anything that will help me germinate the seed.

Blossoms

by brian francis

Bluebirds singing songs of love
Dance upon the windowsill

Flowers bloom in ordered rows
While sunshine falls to color them

Days stretch out their limber limbs
Embracing more hours than before

Darkness shrinks losing hold
Springtime’s touch has come again

And summer calls her rally cry
To gather strength for wilting work

As all of nature’s enduring might
Rises to the challenge of life

Arbiter of Dreams

by brian francis

When shadows reach and gather strength
And Nyx rises to claim her right to rule
Even Zeus concedes in all his might;
yielding

Only Selene dares to rise against –
revealing
Her gaze in shades of blue cast from above
Moderating that absolute power of gloom
Bathing the world, washing away the darkness
During sleeps restless battles in the night

Copyright © 2021 brian francis

Judgment call

By brian francis

I hear you passing judgment
as you look at me and turn away
My cover seems to offend you
my pages, imagined, dull and gray

I know there are soft places where
rest and comfort can be found
my search reveals a barren place
my soul’s tortured ground

So come, share in my pain
walk a mile with me
Struggle with me through the rain
seeking out my destiny

Morsels found tossed aside
as I stumble through it all
caught in some kind of riptide
opposing forces cause my fall

Heartache caused by shadow friends
there when times are bright
always seem to disappear
when darkness kills the light

Troubles seem to inundate me
like a sudden torrential flood
sleepless nights and restless days
causing cuts and scrapes and blood

So come share in my pain
walk a mile with me
Struggle now in this rain
while we seek my destiny

And that is just the first few steps
to be taken while in my shoes
Bruises fade to a yellow green
a colorful testament to life’s abuse

Wounds can heal with gentle care
But scars shine, translucent white,
at least those scars that can be seen
the soul does not reveal its plight

So come share in my pain
walk a mile with me
Struggle on through the rain
help me find my destiny

The Tobacco Barn

by brian francis

The farm lane was tall with weeds.
the tracks for tires, worn ruts,
parted by the tall grass, dancing
on the breezes of remembrance.
The barn was shedding its skin of paint,
flake by flake, curling away.
The boards still clung to the frame;
though the doors hung precariously,
leaning away from their hinges–
Pulling at the walls with all of their strength.
Barn owls and swallows claimed the rafters
screaming and bounding from beam to beam.
Dust swirled, and drifted in the shafts of light
shining through exposed ribs in the roof.
Where the slates had released their hold
taking to the skies in the storms of summer,
to shatter on the ground, becoming only stones.
A tree rising from the center of a broken floor
reaching for the sky with all of its will.
Protected from the harshness of the world outside,
it still, yet, tried to break free of its prison.
Mulberries stain the floor beneath it.

07/29/2003

Posted on 07/29/2003
Copyright ©2021 brian francis

Secret Moments (incest)

By brian francis

Eyes aglow in the night
reflecting the terror within,
Gasps, from horrors unseen.
Guilt, for the lessons of sin.

Tears, welled together to stream,
pool in the sandman’s lair.
A whimper, in the darkness of night,
ending a whispered prayer.

Scars, from the tortures of “love.”
Pain, in the heart and the mind.
Obedient, and still – a rag doll;
fear is the shackles that bind.

Northsong

By brian francis

The breezes blow a chilly wind
Winter comes again, winter comes
Screams of horror are heard in them
Winter comes again, winter comes

Death is marching in the wail
Winter comes again, winter comes
stand strong, hold fast, for if we fail
Winter comes again, winter comes

At the wall the black will hold
Winter comes again, winter comes
hero’s stories warm the soul
Winter comes again, winter comes

Death is walking through the snow
Winter comes again, winter comes
death might hold someone you know
Winter comes again, winter comes

Fires cleanse, fallen friend or foe
Winter comes again, winter comes
The dead seek out those they know
Winter comes again, winter comes

Shattered

By brian francis

Soft moments
Hard breathing
The world spinning ’round
A simple promise
About forever
Shattered on the ground

Oh I believed in the graceful touch
I deeply yearned for it oh so much
I know now it wasn’t meant to be
The way it was always told to me
Angels dancing in a clouded room
Demons casting their depressing gloom
Falling from the great heights of love
Shattered on the ground

Hard lessons
Smooth talking
You’ve made me the clown
Heart broken
Lost feelings
Shattered on the ground

Copyright © 2021 brian francis

Glory’s End

By brian francis

To war I rode a speckled mare
With spear and bow
With tack and ale
To war I went and left my bride
To never again, laugh by her side

The fight was long beneath the sun
With ebb and flow
With cheer and mourn
The clash of steel rang in the air
joy and mourn were married there

Upon the field I found life’s end
My last thought her face
My breath her name
And there my life did pass away
Into darkness from the light of day

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