Poetry
by: ArdentTly
pieces
he sits there barely breathing
a light dusting of ash sitting on
his helmet
his face
partially covered by a mask
his eyes glazed over from the
work he has done the work he
still has
waiting for him.
sirens echo off the shattered remains
of the world trade center
and as the world holds its breath
a small tear makes a path
down
his grizzled chin
and onto hands that have touched
cold brick and
cold flesh.
his shift is almost up for today
but he knows sleep is just something
he used to do as images of friends
found in the rubble linger just
behind eyes that have seen too much
on
this eleventh day
of september.
(c) Trish Shields
091201
[second
guessing] [linear dreams] [The
Forge] [top of page]
second guessing
what if I could take it back
go back in time to that moment
when all the harsh words were
being formulated in my mind
when the only recourse I'd thought
existed was flight bundling up my
kids and tearing off into limbo
that place between still safe
and yet past the point of no return?
what if I could just ignore all those
niggling worries that dangerous time
was fraught with ignore my own needs
and happiness and just continue to
endure the lie that was becoming
a second
skin?
what would be different in the long run?
would I have been happy to watch my
children grow into bitter individuals
afraid of their own shadows building
relationships built on disrespect
and denial or would it have finally eaten
me alive leaving me just wearing that
worn mask 'the wife' with its painted on
smile forever and a day like so many
of my friends had over the years who
should have gotten out but never did?
never have found love never have
found me never have seen the truth
in someone who promised to love and
honour me all the days of our lives
but had so little respect for me that
I wasn't even worth trying to keep as a friend
never have realized my own potential
and expanded my universe with seeds
of self-respect and pride
as much as I'd like to go back I know
I can't I shouldn't want to and I must
move forward putting that need
behind me
it's hard as they prick at me leaving
wounds that fester and never heal
but they must
in what ever fashion I have left
I must be there still wearing the mask
this time of motherhood
never forgetting that the seeds I've
sown in them will have a chance to grow
in whatever soil they find themselves in
I have to believe that
(c) Trish Shields
090801
[pieces]
[linear dreams] [The Forge] [top
of page]
linear dreams
little particles of energy comprised
of negative and positive ions
bits and pieces of matter
that float and blaze around us
unseen and unremarked
small mementos of who
and what we were the cycle unbroken
and yet every now and then
they are focused
their power at once realized
aflame not in the ethers
but in the spoken word
it's like a blessing
this reanimation of that which was
still is and ever shall be
(c) ArdentTly
051401
[pieces]
[second guessing][The Forge]
[top of page]
The Forge
silence
air filled with tension
eyes roving back and forth
wondering why I bother
- same old same old
the game of getting lucky
just not where I'm at
looking for something
not ever dreaming
that it's right there
waiting
hopes vibrating, dreams thrumming
- and with a shot, I'm off and running
flirting
air thick with banalities
promises, platitudes
miles to go before they're kept
and yet this one's different
not my type yet everything I need
but didn't know I wanted
singled out from the herd
am I the hunter
or is she?
with one touch, her scent, that voice
branded
gasping
air sweet with the breath of promise
mouth stretched wide
lungs on fire
the blaze racing across skin
tingling across nerve endings
- two bodies locked in battle
in bliss
in ravenous torture
hearts bodies minds
beating in rhythm
in time
c o n n e c t e d
fingers that would settle for brass
close around gold
(c) ArdentTly
040401
[pieces]
[second guessing] [linear
dreams] [top of page]