Untied

Second half of what I never knew was a first half.

A soul set free from constant friction.
Words spoken aloud in crystal clear diction - I will be free!
I will hear no more of your crude complaints,
Nor allow any further roughed-up restraints.
Do not throw out accusations of infi-daliances

A soul and will set free to dance,
Finding joy in a moment of pure happenstance.
Finger tells of a memory of a now useless token,
A fare-thee-well symbol of all that was broken,
She could not quit it soon enough.

If freedom was paid with a heart thrown to floor
Then it is a bargain well made, for it’s needed no more.
Its beat has long ceased its staccato-like beating,
From breaks of accusation - so much time spent not-cheating.
Stepping over it on the way out the door.

For one single moment, the world is silent and stalls,
As she steps out from a prison of crudely hewn walls.
She hears from behind her his pitiful calls.
Upon deaf ears plaintive crying now falls.
Immune to the voice once beloved and familiar

She no longer cares to listen anyway.
She's gone to away, moves ever further astray. 
To where? She knows not, nor would she say.
Not that we should ever be told anyway.
She has found the pathway to freedom.

Weaving a zig-zaged path of uncertain direction,
Aware of only the need for hurried defection.
An urgent need to leave and seek a new resurrection.
Thinking not of what was left by her own insurrection.
It was nothing she needed anymore anyway.

A journey which brings new things to see on the way.
Today is brand new, yet familiar in a way.
Lost to a love taken hostage from just yesterday,
And other things that while walking she just throws away.
Restitutions, restrictions, institutions, limitations and mind numbing other crap.

A Love requiring requirement, and all consuming commitment ,
With an eventual stop at institutional interNment.
Things she no longer has a tolerance for.
Tossed into the garbage, to worry her no more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thunder clouds overhead. Alarming, charming, distracting.
She finds herself looking, wanting, smiling reacting.
For they were beautiful, new, disarming, attracting.
Wondering just what it was that would be called for exacting.
She was taken aback by the beauty and promise contained in them.

With a crack lightening bolted, bringing the rolling of thunder.
She found redemptive shelter, yet she refused to get under.
Rain gentle and steady, falling on parched lips needing quenching,
And she smiled with a knowing as she invited the drenching.
She stepped in front of the storm willingly.

A seasonal rain, a temporary tempest invited right in.
Providing something she’d forgotten that resided within.
She danced, and romanced, and tarried there smiling,
And became once more beautiful in the rain so beguiling.
Telling herself it was for just this one moment.

And while she was dancing, she could feel and forget,
What lie behind or before her, her past and her yet.
All the while knowing there would be cost for this pleasure.
Even one such as this, a short lived moment to treasure.
And she found she was willing to pay it.

She threw her caution away, traded it in for sensation.
Long denied by prior occupation and required de-regulation.
The time she had for dallying, she would give for to take.
If only for leaving a simple smile in her wake.
This she would have.

Then rain stopped abruptly. It simply ceased in its down pouring.
Leaving puddles, and mud, and a mess on the flooring.
And where her heart once beat came again a dull aching pain,
But for the loss of the dancing, not for the loss of the rain.
Rain was common but her joy was fleeting.

The time to pay up was upon her. Put the coins in the slot.
Though she was surprised at the cost. More than she’d first thought.
But she paid it in full - it was a debt that was hers,
While shaking her head at such used for use words.

She had never needed them.

She could not claim to have been blind in innocence.
She would not claim disbelief nor plead ignorance.
She went in eyes wide open, from the end to when it started.
So she put her coins in the slot, and then she simply departed.

She took up her trail, confusion given way and replaced,
By the smile that was ever ready to take up its place.
For the rain and the rest were past, her future ahead,
And everything behind her - well it was already dead.

Persevere. Laugh, Smile and for God’s Sake - Dance While you Can!

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© 2013 Shelley Holt-Lowrey

Author's Note

For the record - I don't write poetry.

My Review

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Reviews

Stanley Wilson

loved it great poem

Posted 12 Years Ago

Rusty

Too bad you might get the hang of it if you ever did. Who ever penned this for you deserves a handsome sum.

No really you should cause I bet you would do,as good as the sot who scribbled out the art above!

Posted 12 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

12 Years Ago

OK! I'll cop to it. I write poetry. Gosh! THAT was like - difficult! Thank you kindly for that .. read more

12 Years Ago

I'll get oil.

EMF

Nah. You don't write poetry. And I don't wear a Gods damn hat, smoke like a MFMS chimney on fire, and drink coffee blacker than my sou Face it Dollface. You write bloody good poetry. Want to argue? Tough. I'm rightl