Five Poems

by Amy Shore

How Little

 

Late one night, as I sat up

and drained the contents of my cup,

a stranger came to me and said,

‘I see the turmoil in your head.’

But stranger still, he seemed to be

the opposite of the real me.

And though I begged him stay a while

he turned to go with just a smile.

I grabbed his hand and held it fast,

before he was part of my past.

He wrenched away and left behind

the puny contents of my mind.

I sifted through and seldom saw

a thing worth keeping in my craw.

I realized then that it was me

responsible for who I’d be.

And now at night I lay awake

and try to think for the stranger’s sake

how little I have ever done

to let myself have any fun.

What’s more how badly I have missed

the things I struggled to resist

I Bend

I bend, but not
without a fight,
my eyes still strain
beyond their range.
Only grey sky;
no ray of sun
erases rain.

No coat, but I
lean into cold.
It's piercing teeth
gain flesh and blood.
Beyond this is
no day I know,
with hell beneath.

Full well, I feel
my heart constrict
and shrink from that
dear, sweet desire
so cloaked in robes
uncertain, now
no confidante.

Move on, I say
more to myself,
but life gives ear;
it's larger sea
engulfing me.
I close my eyes
with heaven near

Morning

 

I’m up; so are the birds.

They know their song.

I’m uncertain of mine.

It’s progression familiar

Tune unsung as yet.

Sky embraces.

Earth supports.

I am in-between,

A sandwich of possible.

Fear creeps in at the thought,

impossible

I am only one

And so small...

You do not know.

I do not know myself.

Futile bangings

Have brought me to this place.

What will bring me out?

I linger,

A sigh escapes.

Move forward

I tell myself.

So I move

Towards the light.

Any light.

Any love.

All is centered.

All is well.

Morning has healed.

The Dream

Multi-layered reasons cloak my furtive attempts at conversation.

Single need drives me to probe, to wonder, to whisper all around the truth.

Keep it back.

No folly like the hidden one.  No time like the present.

I steal away backwards, the azure blue of the twilight sky silhouettes palms, tall and graceful.

Their slight movement in the wind mirrored on the breeze, touches my face.

The smell?---jasmine, dust, and you.

All fetters broken. I am free at last.

The monstrous dream has landed in my backyard.

The thing I hoped for, here and now.

I pinch myself, flying over ground, my feet inches above real, hard, solid earth.

Giddy elation. A wash of peace.

All my trust. Pinpointed to this soul-embracing moment.

It is finished.

My teeth chatter in the cold.

I hold myself tightly, but it is not enough.

Pieces of me are flying away.

What remains will have to do.

And there is plenty to do.

Be good, my muse, and stay awhile.

Carve your leaden features on my mind.

Stay your angel fingers on the memory of tomorrow.

Stamp an image, clear and strong.

My pouring out depends on it.

My filling up comes with your words.

Be good, my muse and stay awhile.

The clouds gather...."Filled with Failure" the words lie heavy.

They burn and cleanse like farmer's fires.

The deadwood past is kindling.

The present fluff blows past my door.

My house is crowded, rooms are full.

Clear away the refuse and empty every corner, till all is gone and peace is left.

I sit in silence on the floor.

The echoes tell no truth but mocking lies.

I will not stop to fear them now.

The truth has burned away all farce.

Keep Walking 

 

It's a long road
that road with bridesmaid dresses
Friday nights with dinner for one
moments of dire self-doubt
going places to see things
to find people
and shaking the dust from the boys that walked away off your feet 

But I traveled it once

At the end of it I found myself 
sitting across from your father
learning that he was Mr. Right
perfect?
no.
perfect for me?
yes.

Keep walking 

BIO: Amy Shore is the pen name for a piano teacher, novelist, poet, community columnist, and children’s theater playwright and producer. She can be found on Substack at amyshoreauthor.substack.com, and in a forthcoming issue of Micromance Magazine. Never Say Uncle, her debut novel, available on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble is a romantic suspense cozy. She lives in California.

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Six Poems