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A moment of quiet, in this frozen house,
Breathe it in, while you can.
He's coming back at about 4: 05pm,
To punish, an innocent lamb.
If he could feel the pain he was inflicting,
He would never raise a hand.
And all the shouting would return to him,
Louder than any band.
Each time he slapped or kicked us,
He would have instantly returned,
His own hand or foot coming back at him,
The lesson being learned.
I'd like to take him through the desert,
Actions getting slower.
Frustrations paling into sand,
His resistance getting lower.
Alone without a soul to taunt,
Nothing there to beat.
Only the company of his thoughts,
There with him....... burning in the heat...
I would not take advantage though,
By leaving him there to rot.
I'd wait for his confession, patiently,
One without, the scheming plot.
I'd have his conscience watered,
And fed without fail each day.
And nurture a green oasis,
In his withered heart of grey.
I'd make sure he was healthy,
So that he could really see.
It was an answer I was looking for
Not to hurt humanity.
Then I’d ask a wondering group of Nomads,
If the stars can really tell.
Can I look into his eyes yet?
Or will I fall into the well.
We have a way where we come from,
And it always works best at night,
If it's direction you are looking for,
Then we'll help you with your plight.
That man over there was brought here for a reason,
Like the changing of our maps we read.
Everything moves in a time and season,
Now take a seat, listen and.................Take Heed!
It was not your love that made him that way,
But a chain of specific events.
We are lucky out here for we carry our maps,
And store our pain in life, outside our..... tents.
Ask yourself a simple question,
What keeps you from running free?
The Sahara is an open ocean,
Just stop and look, you’ll see!
Instead you wait here with him,
Like a fistful of sand you'll see.
The harder you try to hold on to it,
The more you set it free.
It slips through your fingers yet you know not why!
And all it did was leave you for dead on the floor,
Take yourself and your Children FAR away from this place,
So you can find love in your own way once more.
I listened closely, advice of this Nomad Sheikh,
But as he stood there, his vision and sound paled.
Few more gentle words now for him to speak,
An answer soon will be with you......... unveiled
3: 35pm A knocking at the door............ ripped into full consciousness,
There they are bolted, all 9 locks.
I peer through the spyhole viewer,
Wisdom from previous knocks.
I could see a man standing, A taxi driver.....Why?
“You need to hurry up” he said
“Grab the Children, for we gotta fly! ”
Take them quickly now from their bed
Jimmy and Louise half asleep half awake,
Back of taxi light was defused.
I could still see the hurt in their faces,
Dreams twisted and visually bruised.
“Your Uncle phoned” the driver said,
He was shaky in his voice.
“He'd had a dream that shook him up;
He had to make a choice.”
I didn’t understand,
What the driver was conveying?
The message was vague to me,
What was he really saying?
We pulled up at my uncle’s house,
Scottish Highlands,7 hours later.
An old man in the mist appeared,
Dressed smart just like a waiter.
“You’re alive! Your Well!
Bring the children in from the cold.
I had this dream that seems so real,
A message I fear it told! ”
As he started to talk my skin felt like ice,
For he dreamt that we were in danger.
Jimmy and Louise and myself included,
From my boyfriend who'd become now, a stranger.
I broke down in tears, told him all that had happened,
He could barely believe what I’d said.
“If you hadn't rescued me tonight my dear uncle
I think surely that we would be dead.”
“You are welcome to stay for as long as it takes
For your lives to be healed from this pain
My niece and her children, who would have thought it?
Come in from the wind and the rain”
Funny thing though, did I tell you?
This sheikh in my dream that I saw,
Who mentioned I'd see close family again,
Once they’d trusted and opened a door.
duncan wyllie
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Comments about this poem (How Many Knocks?
by
duncan wyllie
) |
|
Click here to write your
comments about this poem (How Many Knocks? by
duncan wyllie
)
 |
Terri Turrell
(11/18/2009 1:07:00 PM) |
oh criminy, now I see why Elys told me to read you.
She says hello. This is write that appeals on several layers.
skill, emotion, the inclination for a reader to urge the underdog on to victory...
well done, poet
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Ernestine Northover
(7/28/2009 3:32:00 PM) |
Gosh, an epic write Duncan and yet you kept the storyline flowing really well, A lovely tale and what I like to hear, a happy ending. Very well achieved.
Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
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Andrew Blakemore
(2/22/2008 3:52:00 PM) |
A brilliant and most inspiring write. Thank you for sharing this with us. Andrew '10'
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Raymond Wright
(1/6/2008 6:34:00 PM) |
Inspiring and heartwrenching. True poetry, Duncan!
~Ray
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Amanda Lukas
(8/6/2007 2:43:00 PM) |
Duncan,
You poems bring inspiration to me, as I'm sure they do for many others. The subject of a dream that seems real intrigues me. I've had several myself that I do believe are messages.
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Michael Gale
(8/2/2007 4:29:00 PM) |
Wowsa Wowsy Wow! Wow! What a great read, kind sir of the well written word!
Inspiration in its purist form! God bless all poets and readers alike-MJG.
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Amy Burles
(7/31/2007 11:11:00 AM) |
Wow! A great piece of detailed narration.
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Raul Castelan
(6/24/2007 9:20:00 PM) |
What a mystery and what a captivating piece of work to read. You've done well with this one. I liked it and the way you ended it too. EXCELLENT JOB! ! !
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Leila K
(4/29/2007 4:49:00 PM) |
Where were you when I needed to hear all this? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....Why didnt anyone ever tell me? ? ? ...Where was everyone? ? ? ? ... duncan you really know what you are talking about....thank you for sharing this poem with me....love LeilaXXXX
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