Poetry

"PRECIOUS"

It is a slow waltz
The way in which I love thee
With my eyes full, heart brimming
Yes, that is my soul spilling all over the place
And leaving thee with such a crowded space
I do not wish for thee, but love
If not for me, then for another
But love, and health
And wisdom rare –
Precious share

I pray for you
The simplicity that prevails in small children
In a dog
In a leaf that is not afraid to fall to the earth
So soon after birth
Or for the complexity
In serenity
And in storm
In a breath, or that wisp of such
Like a smile, or a touch

And if thou treasure me
I hope to see it
Not shutter my eyes with thy humanity
Thy imperfection
My own reflection
As a bird at nest
Defines devotion
May I shelter thee?
Until thy wings have feathered
To your soul may I be tethered?

Should you drift into the bowels of this place
And as the tide
Pull into thy depth
Pieces of this world
The bits of God in every stone or pearl
May you find, in each grain, the trivial worth
Churn it into something grand
Shower your likeness upon these things
For a gift quite rare -
That precious share

© MLC 3/06

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"MUSE"

Little child,
Girl,
You are myself, not me.
My grandmother, perhaps?
No, a fairy
Whisper, whisper, shout
Into the long corridors of my mind
Into the gallows
Oh, fair one that searches for fingers
To do her bidding
Do not leave this writer desolate
Grasping for words
In the darkness of madness
Look at you in the blue tank top
So guileless
So fickle
Not easily amused
I live for your smile, those little teeth
That clack out wisdom
Your name is Story
And I am your servant

© MLC 10/06

"THE LETTER"

And I would give it back to you
This letter you have, with indelible pen, written to my soul
Oh, but I can not!
To scour the words away
Would be to rape my heart
To render it fruitless, utterly broken
And I could not love without this traitorous vessel
That redeems me
While shaming me deeply
This letter, my love, my foolish, youthful love!
That you have etched, and etched upon the parchment of my spirit
Like a chisel to the stone in honor of the dead
My tongue tightens to hurl reproach at you
And I would, with relief, declare you undesirable
And I would give it back to you, this letter -
If I could -
Then I would never have to utter a lie again

© MLC 8/01

"HIDE AND SEEK"

Where did you go?
And how did you get there?

Do whisper to me of your wanderings
From heart to heart
And then back to mine
Oh, I cherish you, sojourner, I love you dearly
Pulse and pause
From year to year
I know you’ve been here yet again
Paid me another clandestine visit
Clearly, evidence exists in these thoughts I have
A smile touching these lips
As searching, I open another door

So where have you gone now?
And how do I get there?

© MLC 2/06

"GUARDIAN"

And when the light grows dim in the core of your heart
I shall fan the embers aglow
Until that hearth is again suffused in warmth
You may count on this, you know

I have always known my portion

Even when all hope disbands
Even when you lose sight of your goal
I will lift you from the snares
When rough is the way and great the toll

I have always been faithful

It will be my kiss to smooth the furrow from your brow
I will clothe you in an armor that fits
And it will be not your smile but mine that shall falter
My resolve to block the hardest hits

I have always been strong

With your dreams all plucked from your youth
With the storm bursting upon your most delicate skin
I stalk the one who brings you harm
What magnificent valor from a simple friend

I have always loved you

© MLC 3/02

"MERELY ASPIRING"

The talisman stone on my writing desk bears one word – create
I smooth lotion over my hands – warm vanilla sugar
And I’m scared to sit in my chair
Scared I have nothing to say
Oh, I’m weighted down with awful dread!
That is intuition telling me the news will always be – NO

The magnifying glass to my left reflects the lamp light
Over my skin, the lens shows the ravages of postpartum depression
How deeply the lines in my hands now are to the observant eye
And my daughter aspires to be an artist and a writer
So I advise her to harness her dreams early
That time slips away so quickly; I wasted my days

The beat of my heart is not beautiful like youth – clouds scudding across gray skies
I’m all weathered now, without growth – long dead Oak lying in shambles
And I’m scared to tell a story
Scared I have no words worth putting to paper
They all have said no, and two more will, and two more, and more
That is intuition telling me the news will always be - NO

© MLC 11/06

"ODE TO A CEDAR"

Tree, thou art Cedar
And I am but a tiny bit of sinew
In a world strewn with marble headstones
And forgotten names
I wander aimlessly among these whisperers
While you stand guard above them
Looking down upon Myrtle and Yucca
And, heroic as those old plants tend to be,
They grow beneath your shade
Like me and my fluid and temporary existence
You do not pretend to be infallible
But instead wear your age like I wear my wrinkles
Thou art human in thy structure

© MLC 11/06

"FROM THE OLD GARDEN"

Bestow upon me nothing
But death
I should like to be forgotten

In a vast desert full of struggling writers
The thirst quenched is that of the intelligent
Not the wise, and not the poetic
God forbid; look at that one without her Medal of Honor!
The Gods are but minions to the Mighty Publishing I AM
And none favor the children of practice
Seek instead the silken tassel at the end of the ear of corn

In a bright kitchen fully stocked with bakers and buyers
I am merely the kernels of talent beneath the husks in the old garden
Self-educated, I have little in exception to imagination
And it is not marketable, this thing that Einstein touted
Many lifetimes of hours I have labored to perfect my craft
Yet I am uncouth because I choose not to conform
Seek instead to hone my gift and my voice with experience

Bestow upon me nothing
But birth
I should like to be born

© MLC 11/06

"THE BOUNTY OF FAITH"

In the gloom of ashes after rain
Remains an ember
Like the pulse of death tucked within a vein
Like snow in September

And in this miniscule nugget beneath the cold
Is the most precious of metals, faith’s purest gold

The philosophers smile in wonder
And the poets erupt in thought
It is the silence in thunder
The reaper who sows not

© MLC 11/06

"HAUNTED"

Seeking warmth
They inhabit my being, curious souls
And whisper softness beneath my skin
Beseeching me to search their ways
And I endeavor to know their plight
I open my soul’s eyes wide
And behold their gifts
I am their voice
So carefully I listen to them
With my heart, my mind, my bones even
As they petition for rest
And gain memory from mine haunted eye

© MLC 9/05

"RESPITE"

Invisible, yet tangible
Fragile
You appear in my dreams
With a single appeal
To those you left here
A message intended
To reach
To change
To save…
Them.

© MLC 10/05

"LIAR"

Never uttered a lie
But sat on the truth long enough
That an ulcer of deception exists

Speak the truth
Do spare us thy duplicity
And never shall you own the lie of secrecy
Which eats away at the good of the soul
And awards false innocence

Alas, sit on the truth
And you will never have to utter a lie
To be a liar

© MLC 10/06

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