Critiques and Revision

Daydreaming

I took it all to heart,
each hasty smile,
every modest gesture,
each syllable of dispassionate word,
to a stage where even I was persuaded,
the rays veiling your face,
in perfect symmetry,
were by your own hand.

Hell—you were the rays, as you were
the smile, the gesture, and the word.
Everything created, then destroyed
by your own unadulterated hand.
Such feats you could reach.
I coveted you so,
for what were you incapable?
—but all only in my sight.

Now I mistrust.
There are words I thought were spoken
and actions I thought were displayed
by you—but also me.
Illusions and Trickery
by me—but not you.
I see it now:
how you were a dream,
borne of a skeptic in dangerous reverie.

This guise I had burdened upon you,
how could I be so thoughtless?
For it had seemed,
that when I said move
—you moved.
And when I said speak
—you spoke.

How does something appearing
so concrete, so essential
be confused with truth?
How can you savor another's words
and have them be your own?
How could I be so selfish,
with dreams of distant realms—
but forget it.
Happiness has gained on me,
now knowing the best of truth.

I hear no more whispers,
no more apparitions of smiles,
gestures, or words—
no matter how hollow,
cryptic or empty—
such trivial necessities,
conceived by a fool
in want of an actor.

A Fool's Errand

In dreaded famish, he beckons his famulus,
" Take a brisk walk down the stream;
Buy me that delicious stimulus" ;
As he was starting to lose his dream.
On wind's wings he floated away;
Down the road he vanished from sight
The hungry begins to measure his way
A second's waste could hasten a fright.

Galloping down the slippery road;
He steps on a plump croaking toad,
Stops a moment to mourn the dead
And wrapped it in a colourful thread.
He stuffs it in his brown leather bag
Bearing his Master's monster tag;
That little moment he's thrown awake
Fetch the meal and the Master, wake.

The hand on the wall is past his fear
His ensemble shrugs off his wrinkly skin
He hopes Chufuna is dead or near
It matters now he's not his kin.
Discomfort sunk him in a chair
Daylight hurries from the clouds
The weather he sees outside is fair
His gentle patience fury beclouds.

The vendor serves him in a piece of cloth
Attentions whisked off by a naked thief
He stole meats from a farmer's broth
His back his whipped till its grief.
" This scene so gory,
I must tell Magacula the story" .
He bolts like a fuel tank torched,
On the desk lies the cloth untouched.

Magacula is weary
Whispers the gods to spare his life
His sight on Chufuna is bleary
But hears him mumble his walk of strife.
Thud!
He wakes his Master up. His shoes hissing mud.
He picks the bag in a careful tread
And hands him his 'meal' in a colourful thread.

Like A Rose

She wears a fragrance so refreshing
Her gentle countenance sparks a light;
Beauty clasps her skin like a fleshing
Her allure no one dares fight.

Whenever she smiles, a merry band plays
If I say, she signals it stale
So much I've heard their replays
Still my words bear a tale.

Thus, I treat her like a rose
She sees not the beauty I behold,
If I write a poem or prose;
The truth I have yet untold.

Daydreaming

I took it all to heart,
each hasty smile,
every modest gesture,
each syllable of dispassionate word,
to a stage where even I was persuaded,
the rays veiling your face,
in perfect symmetry,
were by your own hand.

Hell—you were the rays, as you were
the smile, the gesture, and the word.
Everything created, then destroyed
by your own unadulterated hand.
Such feats you could reach.
I coveted you so,
for what were you incapable?
—but all only in my sight.

Now I mistrust.
There are words I thought were spoken
and actions I thought were displayed
by you—but also me.
Illusions and Trickery
by me—but not you.
I see it now:
how you were a dream,
borne of a skeptic in dangerous reverie.

This guise I had burdened upon you,
how could I be so thoughtless?
For it had seemed,
that when I said move
—you moved.
And when I said speak
—you spoke.

How does something appearing
so concrete, so essential
be confused with truth?
How can you savor another's words
and have them be your own?
How could I be so selfish,
with dreams of distant realms—
but forget it.
Happiness has gained on me,
now knowing the best of truth.

I hear no more whispers,
no more apparitions of smiles,
gestures, or words—
no matter how hollow,
cryptic or empty—
such trivial necessities,
conceived by a fool
in want of an actor.

Finally Free

He asks for life
Yet he prays for death
Wants to be loved
But prays to be hated
Asks for the truth
But is scared of the answers
Tired of fighting
Tired of the pain
Then one night
He breaks and says
No more
As he slides the knife across his wrist
He laughs
He smiles
He crys
He's finally free

No More Running

You don't have to run anymore
I'll be with with you as you face your past
As you kill the demons from your past
Don't cry
Don't falter
That fear makes you strong
Strong enough to face anything
They can never beat you
Never take you down
Because they'll never know
They'll never see
How much you had to fight
To be able to stumble into the sunlight
You will fly high
Above the clouds
Away from those who hurt you
Don't let them see your fear
Show strength and courage
Hold fast and stay strong against the dark
I'll hold your hand and lead you to the light

A Brisk Walk

Midnight on a winding street
air still as the grave
no danger lurking
no signs of wake

You swagger on
gingerly to the left
then suddenly—
a hand is in your hand
hot breath against your cheek
a whisper in your ear:

“My love, my light
come lie with me.
We'll meet at great new heights
where you will be set free
from hands that bind
to a land of bliss,
so you won't but mind
as you float down the abyss.”

With no note of dissent
no sigh, no frown, nor shake
you are whisked away,
taking steady steps and deep breaths
to the hole where you shall lay.

When finally you do arrive
you're beckoned to lie down
you stumble in, burrowing
careful not to make a sound.

Morning comes, but not the sun,
Eyes search, but nothing found.
Hands grasp at dirt, nails rake on stone
at this new burial ground.

Screaming does no good
nor fight, nor will, nor pain
you are here and here for good
because doth wed the night
and the night doth betrayed.

“Away now morning light,
Farewell bitter day!
Soon we will reunite,
perhaps from inner fray.
So beat your drums,
grapple in spite,
measure your sums.
Forget this little slight,
For tomorrow comes! ”

So lie down,
calm, secure
make most of this fine bed
you've dug yourself out of
time and time again.

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-brisk-walk/

If I Had Ten More Minutes

If I had ten more minutes
And my voice was not faint
Nor my face so devoid
Or my mind so blank
I would profess—

But I'm afraid of words
Which might betray lips,
For what is kept
is of my eyes,
that impulsive organ,
I've attempted to stray:
hooded, hazed.

Construing a montage
ever playing:
concerns, worries
fears, and doubts,
Come to life
in bursting light
whilst straining in the dark.

And if such creations
could speak—
or better
could be heard—
through the mist of passion
And masks of pride,

I would profess
All in my heart;
Every quaint murmur
Forsaken night and night.

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-i-had-ten-more-minutes/

I Seek Thee



Nothing will compare to the oasis I now seek

These arid eyes betray the fountain it seeks

Submerged in a desert dust, of cries


I seek high and low, as mountains greet the sky

And seas search their depths

I seek thee, as a song demands a humming melody

I seek thy presence as how wise men follow reason

I seek thy ways as lord Justice seeks to right

Oppressors’ wrongs

I seek all pleasures as how an addict demands ecstacy

I seek thy faith as how the righteous surrender their praise

I seek thee greatly, as much as the eagle desires

to roam the vaccant skies


Precious love!

Where have thou fled?

Far away from natures divine creed?

Absent from thine own heart’s desire?

I seek lost understanding of life’s cruel ways

I seek to find, as the river seeks the sea

Love! I seek thee still

Just as the light intends to tame the shrewd of the night

I seek hoping to find, causing my will to die

I seek thee to be calm and be at peace


Oh Dear, Sweet, Precious Love

I pray that you relieve me now -

For all there is to be - I do find in thee

And with your Love I can now see


copyright © 2013


Godfrey Morris

Calling
My breath catches when you hold your hair up
As your neck comes alive and invites me to live.
Lips find the softest of skin as I feel you rise
And I hear you sigh…

Together as one
In that moment there is only us
In mind, in body and in soul…..
Timeless love passes through our hands.

I use your heartbeat as a guide
My fingers follow it’s path.
I hear you calling……
I hear you calling…..