Words Much Like Poetry

which should I lend credence? the song in my head or the beating of the heart, for the path to choose in quest for answers, the puzzle of life is just a cryptic jumble, with no pieces fitting together I have lost my thread I cannot find my way back the grail I seek, eludes me in this labyrinth I know the words they sing in the head, with stubborn persistence but the tongue is tied to silence will the eye behold heaven, the angel of surreal dreams? will the hand touch silk, the warmth of delayed company? the die is not yet cast the forecast cannot come forth the cup is half full, it leaks equally with every pouring in the stillness of day, an expectation shall brew there will either be a storm, or a rainbow bathed in a gentle hush

to the sainted woman who stands upon the shores of her misconception, and hurls disparagements, guised in canons, for the path I have chosen, I say, "here is my deficiency, my destitution, my dissonance; here are the scars that I carry with pride and resolve, gained of the many battles waged; I survived, though not as you perceive, but with tender heart intact, ever and always the subtle victor."

once upon a morning of desperate fervor born of rage and thundering menace oddities ride the shadow of a bloody sunrise anger ignites my soul to blazing brands this world of cruelties and untold woes my ire consumes to righteous ashes avenges the fracture of innocent gems tears down monoliths of pain the fantastic shroud falls from a waking vision of fiery wrath and unreal yearning to be endowed as the powers that be that possess me in the wake of humanity's agonies

Is this my new beginning, that point where old roads close and never drift again into the lane that I've now forged? Is this where the grand pedestal I've placed my independence upon finally stops quaking? I'm braver now than I ever was, though the fears still lurk in the darkened corners of night. I want, I need, I must, I will! I will, because they need me to. Because if I don't then there was no point in taking the risk.

It's the end of another year and I feel less than satisfied. I thought I'd be further along in the accomplishment of my goals. About the only thing that I've done in the last several years that I feel have any worth are having children and the publication of my poem. I remember being fifteen and thinking that by the time I'd reached the age of 25 I would be a college grad with a good job and a published author with at least two books to my credit. Two noteworthy books. No such luck and the things I was determined to do are becoming more like wishful thinking. Everytime I think I'm on the right path with my goals, I'm thrown a curve and it takes me months, years at times to recover. I'm frustrated, I'm very nearly depressed. If not for my children... Don't get me wrong, I fully understand that nothing lasts forever and that regardless of how much I wish it would, time doesn't stand still. For the worse, or for the better, things change. My resolut...