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Powerful poeming with such vivid imagery! A MUST read!
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HarsH ReaLiTy

I will see you in the morning.

When the Stars have died and I have stopped the need to sigh.

After dreams of thirsty glasses have shattered like crystal corpses and plague my dreams no more.

I hope upon a shaking hand for a writing hand.

As clear a mind as a summer night.

I am afraid.

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Fear — Poetry

you simply won’t do —
you are eschewed
all bone
a poor pathetic thing
rolling in your memories
hanging on to the past
like a sacred tome —
You have no life of your own now
You’ve been assimilated —
the we, the we!

you’ve given up control —
do you get it now?
Don’t you see?
It’s far easier to cease
than to be!
You’ve little courage —
down on your knees, pleading
the begging, the begging —

the desire to be free
is no match for fear —
you’ve bathed in it for years
it’s soaked into your skin
runs rampant in your veins
’til it settles in your heart
your lungs
drips from your fingertips
rubbed raw
from counting days on the stucco walls

How long have your passions been imprisoned here?

Twelve years, twelve years!
years like memories — wasted away

©February 2014, Lori Carlson

The Harborer of Love

I enter the bedroom, so exhausted from living
and see you lying there, ebony strands on ivory,
your comforter-encased body clinched around my pillow.

If only I could tell you the haunts that keep me from you.
I tremble as I sit upon a corner of the bed, fear crawls in,
leers back and forth between us.

I beg it to leave, to not take the love we share,
to allow you the innocence of one unaffected
by the struggles of a deranged mind.

You stir; your eyes barely open and blink
as you move your head to rest upon my knee.
You inhale and exhale, sighing; I smell of sea salt and fish.

Tired from a day spent worn from demons,
I gently caress your hair. Your eyes close
and fear trembles upon your lips.

Sighing deeply, I tell you all is fine.
You whisper, I know
but I hear the doubt.