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MICHAEL MILLER

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 12/10/2014 |




THE FORGE

I remember the beach sand and swing
when you and mother were still something
I remember the ducks in the lake
you held my hand watching their wake
I remember the sheep dogs when the day was through
and the mornings grass all covered with dew
I remember the dead man and blood on the floor
my hand in my mothers as she went for the door
I remember the stairs I thought I’d fall through
and the building where she was hidden from you
she tried drowning me in the bath and the tub
her hands on my throat on the dining room rug
the pain of the walls where my body flew
the floor of the closet when she was through
I remember you entering the door
as you picked up my body from off the floor
the words were so ugly I’ve forgotten them now
but things haven’t changed much anyhow
I remember the willows and switches not few
a home not mine and the children were new
a string of families never seeming to end
the abuse and the beatings I’m not on the mend
I remember the rage and the red flushed face
what did I do to fall from your grace
I remember the fear when I tried to hide
the man and the 2by4 when it hit my side
the bruise and welts with no one to care
my mother and father aren’t even there
I remember the family that took me in
they had no daughter just two young men
one boy was loving the other was slime
but the parents protected me most of the time
I was safe for awhile with nightmares not few
and some of my demons she helped to slew
I remember you taking me home at last
you had remarried some six months past
I remember the woman was cruel and mean
she remained that way till I was sixteen
At fifteen I had been already raped twice
the drugs and pills and the wrist yet to slice
I remember the police to the hospital sped
the straight jacket and thorazine I should have been dead
I remember the airplane that sent me away
with my half brothers mother I was to stay
my neck with a forearm pinned to the wall
my half brothers brother screaming he will have all
I remember the screaming as I flew down the stairs
his violence had caught me totally unawares
the pain as he smashed me on the walls of the hall
the kicks in the ribs after my fall
the nine months I walked in a state of fear
how I passed my classes is very unclear
I remember the man when I hitched into town
the car was a sedan of dirty brown
the doors had no handles no way to get out
he pulled out a knife and proceeded to shout
how he would cut me and make me bleed
if I didn’t fill some sort of need
how I grabbed the wheel for steering the car
when he slammed on the brakes down the road not far
when he slid out the door by the side of the road
it seemed to me that all time had slowed
he released me with curses not language unknown
from the cage of his car this bird had flown
I remember the man preaching justice and truth
but to find answers one must become sleuth
I remember the marriage and I made him swear
that to hit or harm me he must never dare
I remember the baby with curls of gold
by seventeen to marriage my father me sold
I remember the lapses of time I had lost
the forge of my youth and the price it had cost
the thread that kept me alive was so thin
in my mind it was always me against him
I remember the children that helped keep me sane
with some sort of focus with the man I had lain
I remember the striving for some sort of truth
what kind of a mother my children had in their youth
I remember it all so plain and clear
that violence from men will always be near
I swore at sixteen no child to have
if you couldn’t play safely with joy and a laugh
forgive me my children for bringing you here
the reasons I do things are sometimes not clear
My parents are gone and I do not mourn
but only for the life I was never shown
I did try to spare you the same kind of fate
I hoped that my love would be never to late
I had no control of the time or the chance
that injustice would look upon you with his glance
I raise my eyes to the heavens and vent to his name
to save all the children who are yet put thru shame
In a blast furnace my life has been forged
the tool of the hammer has formed my discourse
in molten metal I have been shaped
the tool of another I have not escaped
what of the purpose he hopes to hew
a piece of equipment all shiny and new
I remember my maker and the state of his grace
the road laid before me and the words of his face
the view of my nature he seeks to tame
with so many others who walk in the flame
in wails united to pull heaven down
and with its brightness scour the ground
his promise to do so has not yet passed
when all of mankind will feel his blast
the call has gone forth the meaning is clear
to give an accounting is so very near
those who think themselves high shall be made low
the dust of the earth their destined to know
the one that I follow has carved out the path
his star has shown brightly beneath thorn and the lash
I reach my arm forth to take hold his hand
to walk among humans woman and man
he paints a clear future for those of us all
a paradise lost to man in his fall

[COPYRIGHT © 2009 PoetryofProvidence
C Michael Miller via Duboff Law Group LLC]


PAINTING LIFE

You have led me     beside the azure seas
to see the crimson    coral of the fallen leaves
so like the rainbows    that exist within our kin
the colors that lay    upon our souls within

There drifts our souls    in the shades and hue
where we slip the streams     of the colors blue
or light their soul     in softest shades of yellow
when in company      as delighted companions fellow

Or quietly lay in shells    still and tinged of pale grey
like the clouds that hang     within the low of day
or to climb the hills    the foliage with its glistening sheen
are painted trees and meadows      in the depths of green

Here in life the blooms       that every spectrum see
and offered us its view           the veneer of eternity
and not so transparent    the crystals of our glass
and our lives the shadows            of pigments cast

The cosmetic gloss      that we can wear like makeup
that dyes the actions            which our souls we take up
some like varnish are     just cover for what is dull
like the iron and the steel             that contains our hull

But the tints       that wash and stain our soil
can be the colors swirling      within the gleams of oil
where they run together     as the eddy’s in the water
there each soul its colors         is contained a single star

_________________________________________________________________________


INSTRUMENTS OF LOVE

I recite your name in      the whispers of the wind
for bonded to my heart          are you until the end
I lifted the chalice      drank deeply of its wine
I felt of its effects the          fullness of divine

Like the chords of piano      and dulcimers delight
your melodies do waft               through every thought at night
a master plays the chords      a violin with strings
plays my heart like a harp          whose music on it rings

Your fingers play me      like the stroke of piano keys
every touch I enjoy             your heart it aims to please
you are a symphony      whose chords have touched my heart
a birth cries transmission            of transformation every part

Songs like an aria               may yet I learn to sing
whose vocals resonate          the inmost of my being
You left no line untouched       no strand is mine alone
made sure you did I knew            would make you me your own

Somewhere I lost myself      I gave it all to you
things I don’t understand         reasons appear askew
I inhale you my breathe      to deepest parts within
need you to embrace me         as close as your own skin

We retire together     speak ‘neath the baleful skies
of every trial in life      and those who live in lies
greet me in the morning      curl around me at night
sing to me of love songs         of futures very bright

The wedding of my heart      tears away my mind
I want to forever      hold you for all of time
Are not your words a bath         that removes the worlds dirt
a balm of medicine      to heal the deepest hurt

Its surpassing sweetness     a palate of good taste
love so intoxicating      no drop will go to waste
the adversary’s here      and tramples the flowers
but you oh my beloved         too freely roam my hours

My life is but a breath      an instrument of song
music tells the stories          of lives and right and wrong
The scent of yesterdays     the pathways of the past
forward now the future         into the ever last

Proverbs 16
24 Gracious words are a honeycomb,
sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

[COPYRIGHT © 2013 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC]




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