Norwegian Wood Poem by Lors Dilouley

The strokes in the plank
twist into a well embedded knot.
And the music swirls my thoughts
into the ambiguous knot of my mind...

...quiet solitude invades the room
filled with bright fabric furniture
but dull picture-decorated walls
deafening my current state to pause.

literature surrounds me -
my face turned toward the cup
reaching for it to warm my hands
as I dream of finishing.

I am lost in the fabric
folded jeans and crocheted blankets
upholster my legs as I sit
on the wood that has slivered my thoughts...

/...l'abri.../

directly across from my haven
stands a child with bloated middle.
She stretches her hands to the clouds
twirling as winter air encompasses.

Her tiny hands split the wind
when she spins oblong ovals.
Dizzying ringlets of drunken joy
spill from her laughter.

Chilly sunshine combs her hair
twisted into braids.
Dirty legs guide bare feet
to move in steps of a ballerina...

/...el arbol.../

Strings of words and profanity
drift past eardrums into
his violent mind of four
as his mother makes a sale.

Family is lost in the neighborhood.
No woman is pure,
no man acquitted of addiction.
It's the livelihood - sin or die.

And the lies spew from
older to children -
those yet to be tainted.
As they grow their hope is slowly stolen.

/...of life! .../

Cries awaken my stupor.
I have fallen asleep.
Books still piled, pages unturned
soft acoustics still stirring.

but I spot the image
through the frosted pane.
The stench of those without hope
haunts my daydreams of comfort.

Will i not rise to answer
the throngs of the cynics?
For i am one too...
A difference: one with answers...

...on the day i truly begin life
shame mingled regret will flood
as I recount wasting time while souls and bodies died.
for escape is a selfish plea.