Under Construction 2012 Fall

I hunt Red Maple streets looking for You
I can't seem to find the gold I need anywhere.

Words will never be the fire that You are.
 My Ghost fingers clasp nothing compared to what You express.

I find nothing of value in their dribbling talk
only deceit and malice.

Give me hard work sweat,
foggy morning frost
caught trapped like frozen tears on a ladder,

let me climb up
and
touch the promise of a rainbow.

If only my hands could reach You
I could pull your colors from rain and light
a vibrant form of silence
puts their hearts to shame,
effortlessly.

It's so clear to me now
all these forms of beauty
reaching out to wake us up.

Open My Eyes......

Fire from Red Maples
scatters my heart across wind-blown streets.

I scrape through dirt and rocks and soar the haunted breezes.

I caught more hope in a child's eyes than I have felt in years.

Where is my eager Eagle?

Is he still trapped in a cage trying to feel a wind on his feathers?

I do not want to conceal your flight any longer,
unleash your wings, and cast your shadow across the frozen ground and magnificent trees.

Fly to me and make me better,
better than who I think I am.
Put these thoughts in your talons and devour them forever.

I am ready for my soul to fly and shine.

Start the blood pumping fierce and wild,
caffeine eyes ready to work the grind,
ignore the cramps, cuts, bruises, thumb smashes, nicks, finger jams,
hand gashes, blisters, slashes, splinters, tears, cracks, pinches, just become Rambo....

Burn away hazy smoke in my lens!!!

Snatch away these thorns in my thoughts and let me be who I truly am.

Lift the back aching beams and pull the nails, dig a trench, and roll the trees into the hole you dug into the f*****g ground.

End the struggle in my mind
and begin afresh, anew.

Sometimes I find myself haunted for a year by a friend's stare, words, or kind gestures.

When I find myself neck deep in black mud I think of this and it always makes me feel better.

Call me sentimental I don't care but a kind word can help me get by for weeks.

This morning, when I walked out the front door
I was instantly greeted by a rainbow.

I stared at it, mesmerized-
and
as I passed through the college,
everything, including me
was Under Construction.

That's when I heard an eager Eagle's wings begin to flap and flutter in my cage.

Along the campus walk
feathers flew from my mouth
a thunderous squawk and struggle beat my brains out.

The rainy, sunny sky reflected my inner battle perfectly.
A man walked by with the same tormented reflection as me.

It made me ask the question:

Are we all Under Construction?

On my way to the bus stop
all these fallen leaves seem to invoke some kind of beautiful chaotic heart-stir inside me.

An endless white canvas to play on but it's too much pressure,
too many possibilities to deal with.

I break under rock and clay to be buried by perfect beauty.

A child breezes by on a skateboard,
looks into my eyes with a carefree smile
and I seem to split into a thousand star shatters.

There is my Eager Eagle flying by with grace.

There is my light free air walk
sailing by with grace.

Remember who that was?

There is my Golden Halo bursting from the Page.

There is my Golden Honey drowning all my cynical, bitter Rage.

There is my Red Maple Street blooming with Golden age.

Remember who that was?

Set my Eagle Free

Put my old thoughts in your talons
and devour them forever...

Reviews

[Scott Lee]

Thank you Laura Lynn for that. It was one of those poems that when I wrote it I didn't like very much at all, but then I discovered it the other day in a worn out journal and kinda liked it. Thanks again.

[Laura Lynn]

I do not have a favorite line. I like all these lines.