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Purging the child
by Scott Cadence
I remember the light
in here differently
it's grown harsh
over time
and I have accepted many
changes.
That gold ring
she gave me,
a year later,
wore down like our love
into the silver underneath -
but I think
I like it better.
My mothers age
arrived to her face
because she cannot deny the sun
but she holds gracefully
in grays
and soft reds
eternally Beautiful.
And how my desires
have shifted,
turned my eyes in odd directions -
believed my happiness was equivalent
to the sum in my bill fold
hand over fist into possessions.
How I tried to extract
the beauty of others
with the sharpness of my eyes
only to learn their beauty
would not transform into my own
under such a knife.
And when the night spilled out
in excess
I buried my heart
under seamless fits of skin
where HeatEssenceBreath
are twined.
but was I any more in control?
any more passionate about life?
It was obvious I forgot
how to function
out there
purging the child from my heart
in here
I had to remember the light
soft...
where it all comes from.
where it never ends.
04/06/2004 Posted on 04/07/2004
Copyright © 2024 Scott Cadence
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 04/07/04 at 05:36 PM Well, this sounds like face to face, in an unending conflict over what is and what should be.Incidentally, WHAT IS, if realized, is capable OF determining WHAT SHOULD BE and it does. The last stanza is the proof. I liked this immensely. |
| Posted by Rula Shin on 04/07/04 at 08:30 PM Wow. This is beautiful. I really like your style of writing...your imagery and sharp insight into your own struggle...the conflict from 'inside' to 'outside' and 'out' to 'in'. Great write! :-) |
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