Pamela Davison

Pamela Davison Poems

I can see through
The soggy afternoon,
Your words inspired
By ancient pines,

Open wide, my sisters.
Prepare your hearts
To make welcome the light
That would ask us

I am present in the energy of this moment,
An instrument manifesting sacred duty
Without attachment
For what does not belong to me.

I saw you today,
In the wild brown eyes
Of a doe. She studied me
With an intensity I've never known

I have counted
Vigorous regrets -
Ten thousand and one,
Measured them

We were sleeping
When the dirty water
Came rushing down,
Drowning our arrogance

Way down here
In the swamps of Dixie,
Where I learned to dance
With gators grinning,

Well defined,
Paraded past
Your defenses,

Step gently, my sweet,
Into the hallowed night,
And be not afraid
Of the mystery awaiting you.

Amethyst air
weaves the dream
of conscious living,
awakening original purpose,

I've studied steeples piercing the sky
As it called to the people to cross
The threshold of denomination,
And stood mystified

Ancient Mystery,
I am ready.
Lend me this time
To learn the simplicity

Arrogant seed,
oh, arrogant seed,
why must you grow
inside of me?

I can’t stand to sit…

Waiting to be included
In your anecdotes,


You believe me a fool,
Easily consumed by your authority,
Basking in your biases
To dictate my future,

Can you hear me?
Can you hear me now?

I’m squeezing out between

Destiny’s child spoke to me,
Accentuating the triumph
Of my forebears,
Gifting me with their legacy


I can hear
no one listening
and I want
to go inside

Companionship sits in lonely corners,
Waiting for your advances,
And wonders why you let
White noise

I have dreamt of magnolia fields
Glistening beneath summer clouds,
Where childish fascination meets reality,
And it is so much more.

The Best Poem Of Pamela Davison

As Soon As I Get There

I can see through
The soggy afternoon,
Your words inspired
By ancient pines,
Sapping laughter,
And mining ingenuity.

Paper amusement,
Midnight pens,
Pause only for a moment,
To let me in.

I am nothing more than a mirage,
A psychedelic relief
Expressed on a napkin,
Then soaked in the marinade
Of memories
Not belonging to me.

Certified dreams,
Moonlit poise,
Pause only for a moment,
To let me in.

I’m half-naked,
A bellowing delight
In proof of Emerson’s
Wildest imaginings,
And once again,
Three times as happy.

Documented joy,
Beneath my tree of reality,
Sometimes I pause
To let me in.

Pamela Davison Comments

Max Reif 26 July 2005

Pamela, I've read a number of your poems after initially feeling thrilled by 'Panoramic' and quite impressed by 'Substantial'. I found beautiful things in 'Communion' as well, and 'Supreme Gift'. And the prayers you've written, like 'Beauty Way', have great dignity and beauty. I also found dignity of expression in the well-titled 'Ironies and Absurdities', in which your sentence structure is so clear and direct, though as I suggested in a note I wrote you, I also see more redeeming features balancing the ridiculous materialism you describe. Who knows why I feel impelled/inspired to read and comment on so many of yours. I find nuggets of gold in your poems. If there's a suggestion I might make (after so much praise) , it is that sometimes your lines tend to feel a little impersonal or abstract to me. There's no way to force it, but I want to see/feel a little more intimacy in your work at times. My very best wishes for your continued unfolding in the Beauty Way, as a poet and a human being.

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