|
|
|
|
Best Poems From
LAURENCE OVERMIRE
|
|
| |
|
|
245.
|
Ice Star
What tidings do you bring
Like Mercury from the gods
You fiery-footed herald
Of the vast unknown?
How many civilizations did rise and fall
Since your last report?
How many seas have vanished
From the cosmic shores
Burned to vapor neath a million suns
And how many creatures spent their final breath
Separate and alone
On the brink of time?
You have the answers
You refuse to speak
Or perhaps
We do not hear
Your foreign tongue
Those flaming words enchant the eye
But miss the brain.
I cannot see you now.
You stray too far.
Afraid to touch this brittle earth
Hurtling toward the gulf of black eclipse?
Send my regards
You vagabond Prince
To those distant stars
Beyond the light
And whisper my story
To the sleeping moons
Nestled in their pillows
Of galactic dust.
And when next you return
And find me gone
Listen for an echo
And speak for me
To the wondering world
Below.
(Previously published in Poetry DownUnder, March 2000)
Laurence Overmire
Read more: alone poems, star poems, light poems, world poems, time poems, rose poems, sleep poems
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
246.
|
Illuminata
The lanterns are lit
Thousands circle, drums beating
Fire dancing on the river waves of darkness
We gather in colors of rainbow night
Our tears still welled within the eyes
Passing along, one hand to another
Our procession bridges
Bank upon bank of feeling
This hope for peace
We claim
Ourselves committed
The black and white yellow red of our
Collected conscience we
Make this place our
Blazoning torch
Freedom in the flame
Constantly burning.
(Previously published in Honor and Remembrance, Indelible Mark Publishing,2007. Note: Illuminata was the name given to a community event that took place in Portland, OR, shortly after 9/11.)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
247.
|
Imprecision
A persons perception of another
is limited to
fragmentary moments
experienced subjectively
projected unwittingly
judgments quarantined
in air-tight boxes of the skull
truth unable to grasp
the inadequacy of the fault.
(Previously published in PRIVATE Intenational Review, No.38, Sep 2006)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
248.
|
Imprisoned
Inside that prison are horrible, unfeeling men.
That there? That? Thats a prison?
The inmates all look the same and wear the same clothes. And they think the same, too.
You mean thisthis building here you mean?
How many lives have they ruined with their dirty deeds, just to satisfy their own petty desires of greed and lust. And, worst of all, they laugh and cackle as they watch their victims squirm in agony.
But that theres the IRS.
Exactly.
(Previously published in Superior Poetry News, Spring '99, vol 5, No.1)
Laurence Overmire
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|