f/r-a~g^m=e<n/t*s n^o/w (like me)

Page Eighty-seven

Tuesday 3 August 2010          Turners shards

                                      I and my muse,
                             we walk hand in hand
                           through this wasteland
                         of old, strangled dreams.
                                She brings the food,
                                        I bring the fire.
                 We look up to watch the eagle
                                      as she screams.


                                                                          That life that you were
                                       goes sailing,
                   sailing on breezes
                   and stars.
                         That death you died
                         is still alive,
                                                             and my whirlwinds all spin
                                                                          where you are.


     This night keens a song
of where sisters have gone


                                                        The gods of this garden
                                           have all spread their grey wings
                                                                             and gone


                                                   Make the tea,
                                          while the willow beside us
                                                   is weeping —
                                              You have loved here
                                            more than is your way.
                                                  Make the tea,
                                         while the sorrows inside us
                                                 are steeping —
                                                       You have lost here
                                               more than the willow can say. 

                                                                    (sbe znggurt)


These are pieces of poems and/or song lyrics that I wrote while still in my own life. I no longer have the written copies of them in my possession, and the brain has retained only these pieces of each one.

To the Poetry Page   (and photos, and other matters)


And now September, and other fragments of things whose hard copy is lost, float around in the brain.

Light the candles again 
when the night presses in,                           
light the candles for peace, for relief.              
There are no words to say                            
at the death of the day                                
that cannot be said best                              
by this light.                               
Bring light here.                          
Bring here the flame.                  
                                          See the sun paint the floor
                                          the same way that it did
                                          when you stood in that spot                              
                                          for the sun.
                                                   I miss you.
                                                   I miss you here.
                                         And the tree in the back
                                         drops its leaves to the grass,
                                         one by one,
                                         to amuse only you.
                                                          I love you.
                                                          I love you still.

 Share ~~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~

all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2009-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.








  1. Jingle said,

    August 3, 2010 at 2:31 pm

    powerful and creative poem.
    you really drew me in with you.

  2. braon said,

    August 3, 2010 at 9:50 pm

    Thanks very much, Jingle. Nice user name. I love things that jingle.

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