3 Pain Poems

Lisa Walsh Community Member June 24, 2008
  • Her Pain, at 4AM
    Her pain, at 4AM.
    like the story of winter and ice.
    Reflected in a rearview mirror.
    A white light
    behind the eyes. revealed.
    A sharp needle dripping in ink,
    piercing her skin.  As if like.
    Japanese tattoos.
    Which are an ardous process.
    For both male and female.
    There was the feeling
    that a wire hanger
    opened up and threaded
    into the brain was, as is,
    or more,
    Cold. Hot. Deep.
    That was the new pain
    which brought her to her knees.
    Angels wings
    beating faster than
    the speed of light or sound.
    Filling her belly. And
    as is usual,
    the sound of his footsteps
    in the hallway,
    walking towards her.
    ~~~
     
    Aura Poem-
    The wind blows
    so pretty
    lifting the leaves off the metal chairs on the porch
    dancing sideways and this ways
    and that.
    they tap their feet
    wrapped in silk ballet slippers
    some in pink socks
    others in brown paper bags.
    flitting about weaving in between cars
    not a worry in the world, leaves
    twirl in rainstorms
    capture sun
    on the veins of their
    translucent skin. I watch them go.
    here and there
    the squirrels chase them.
    Left here to play alone I cannot move I
    hold my head in pain
    speak softly.
    really, i truly want to sob.
    ~~~
    Gratitude (Pome)
    
    In the form of gifts
    ministries
    show themselves all weekend
    a blue and white sky
    An outpouring of friendship
    An overlay of love, a soft
    ripe mango,
    Purple and white impatiens
    Heads drooping dying for water
    smacking their lips
    then awake the next 
    Morning.
    Duties.
    Scratching my face her paws
    sharp touching my face
    as I touch her soft fur 
    she has no
    reason to want to hurt me.
    Sanguin she is.
    I call  pain "she" I call it
    "her"
    She made me late today
    she never showed up
    I am late because I wait
    for HER. 
    I can't see you
    because she comes first.
    I promised we'd spend the 
    day together but she's unpredictable
    and I apologize greatly
    needing to be flexible (for her.
    I stay in bed, underneath
    the sky, staring up)
    That's why I can't see you.
    That's why
    although it is a beauty
    of a city
    (I love you)
    the blue and white sky
    a gift
    I cannot see you.
    Although I would like to.
    I think.
    I call him, break the rules
    to call a boy. Praying
    to do the right thing.
    Eat someone elses dinner.
    At 4am I take opiates, 
    
    I sit in the window looking out
    I smoke
    I pace
    I pray.
    Who can i share this city with
    who will understand me
    who can I trust. Besides you,
    that is. I dreamt of you
    throwing the suitcase
    on the bed
    to take leave. 
    I trust her; although I shouldn't.
    
    I call pain "she".
    although behind my back
    I swear she is trying to kill me.
    This mid of night
    has become a friend
    a place to pray as if
    in a church.
    The incense stinging my nose
    my eyes
    my sincere prayers come from deep 
    within my bosom
    comforted.
    my breasts wakened
    I think please. please
    lord don?t take them.
    I think please, please 
    lord let me feel
    his hands 
    upon them (yours) one last
    time, full, soft,
    womanly. I have always loved
    them I remember
    the first time
    I felt them underneath my 
    Thin summer shirt
    And they gave me
    A shudder. 
    Please lord,
    one first time
    before they're gone.
    Should they go.
    I meditate on please
    one last time
    one first time
    before they are gone.
    Before you are gone.
    Before he ever gets a chance to touch them.
    The ministry takes
    Place on the side
    Of a road.
    In a white van.
    Eyes closed he prays
    The homeless man
    Prays, head down,
    feet together,  
    Standing still. Asking
    nothing
    for himself
    but forgiveness.
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