The Daily Poetry Club

4 Poems

1. D. Edgar Lamp says:

   July 3, 2010 at 4:25 pm

   1 – A START OF A JOURNEY

   I lived in the desert with no one but me,
   No brimming oasis, not even a tree;
   My home made of stone and my heart made of glass.
   I dreamed of the forest that grew by the sea
   With fountains of flowers and rivers of grass.

   I woke with a start of a journey in mind,
   An inkling of danger, a chill-riddled spine,
   My belly in flutters of butterfly flights
   Whenever I saw myself leaving behind
   The dulcimer dunes and the harpsichord nights.

   With only the vaguest of notions I went,
   A spring in my step, on my lips a lament,
   Amazed with each step as if some other soul
   Were moving within me without my consent,
   Convincing myself I was out for a stroll.

   I walked with the sun, then I walked with moon,
   The sun came again, and I walked until noon.
   At last the momentum of rapture subsided,
   The flank of a boulder the dust storms had hewn
   I gladly received as the shelter provided.

   My pack for a pillow, my coat for a quilt,
   I dreamed I was plunging my sword to the hilt,
   A beast at my feet writhing awful and great;
   The dragon of sorrow, the demon of guilt,
   The two-headed fury of envy and hate.

   I woke with a shiver as cold as the sky,
   Took one look around me and didn’t know why
   I’d wandered so far from my home in the dunes,
   Perhaps my good reason had kissed me goodbye,
   Or was it the message I’d read in the runes?

   ~ D. Edgar Lamp (written July 2, 2010)

   2 – THE KNOWLEDGE

   My grandfather taught me the way of the runes,
   The symbols on stones that he tossed in the bowls,
   The clearest of pebbles like seven full moons;
   Consulting each morning those Seven Old Souls
   To help him determine his dual daily goals.

   One day was repairs and a rabbit for meat,
   The next was a blade to be sharpened and shined,
   And a poultice of melon to rub on my feet.
   Each day had a name and a number combined
   To write in the book and to keep in the mind.

   My grandfather died on the day I turned ten,
   The hair on his head just as white as a moth.
   I burned his remains in the desolate fen.
   I sprinkled his dust in the Cup full of broth,
   Took only one sip; poured the rest on the Cloth.

   I followed the Knowledge the best that I could,
   And lived in the dunes for another ten years.
   But then in my dreaming I saw the deep wood,
   The forest that harbored my ominous fears,
   That grew by the sea of my sorrowful tears.

   “Come down to the ocean and flourish your sail.”
   The song of the bird in my dreaming beseeched.
   I’d not seen the ocean except in a pail
   Drawn up from the depths of the well’s easy reach.
   The ocean for me was a figure of speech.

   But just like I know when I’m thirsty for drink,
   I knew that this bird was from someone above—
   A spirit beyond my endowment to think;
   And the forested seacoast I kept dreaming of,
   A promise of something I knew must be love.

   ~ D. Edgar Lamp (written July 3, 2010)

   Like or Dislike:   +2
2. Meryl says:

   July 3, 2010 at 6:16 pm

   With everything in me,
   I wrestle like a pro.
   I do all in my power
   to make you let go.

   But the only thing that
   will make you drop
   are the calm words:
   please, please stop.

   Like or Dislike:   0
3. Russell says:

   July 3, 2010 at 11:28 pm

   In the mobbed and flooded mall,
   amid all the bright, bulky signs
   screaming out sales and percentage savings
   to the milling and selective masses;
   one girl, in her own sunny,
   colorful clothes, selling sunglasses,
   attempts an approach at some passersby
   but comes from behind and goes
   unnoticed with her timid trap half open.

   Like or Dislike:   +2
4. Tristan says:

   July 3, 2010 at 11:47 pm

   I wish I’d known what
   I was clapping for when she
   blew out the candles.

   Like or Dislike:   +1