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Saturday, August 20, 2016

AMAZING GRACE AGAIN POEM AND RECORDING OF ME READING IT












Voo reading Amazing Grace Again  on soundcloud. Click link below to listen, if desired.









♥Amazing Grace Again♥


I don’t know why I come here, I think
And sit down on the bench, in the rain
Umbrella-ed people hurrying by with their lovers
Look at me like a person insane.

I don’t care, I sniff, caring a lot
And pull up my collared shawl
People with lovers are always so smug
Oh, the heck with the lot of them all!

I watch a drunk man crossing the street
Kicking an old beer can along
Cursing and fussing and fuming at God
And then he suddenly breaks out into song.

Will you look at that? I say to myself
As I watch his whiskered face
Why is it all these drunks all know
Every word of “Amazing Grace”?

A bus roars by and splatters him
And before it’s fumes are gone
He gives them the finger with both dirty hands
And then loudly goes on with his song.

My hair is plastered down on my head
And I’m sure I look a fright
But nobody seems to be watching me now
As they race to beat the fall of night.

The neon signs start flashing on
And the street lamps blink as well
I smile at the broken Oh, Hello bar sign
That appropriately flashes Oh, Hell.

I really should be getting on home
The family will be looking for me
It wouldn’t  be good to miss dinner now
Since I’ve already missed my scones and tea.

The husband will soon be coming from work
The children, from ball games and school
I really shouldn’t be in this park after dark
With the weather so wet and so cool.

Still, I sit and think some more
As the rain falls heavily down
I really like this spot of green
In the pavement gray blight of downtown.

Perhaps I’ll pop into the Bistro, I think
And have a hot cup of latte′
And maybe a roll and a nice piece of pie
Just as soon as the crowds go away.

The maids have lit the fireplaces now
And they’re setting the table, I’m sure
Tess in the kitchen is polishing some silver
And stirring up her soup du jour.

I really should be getting on home
And yet I continue to linger
I look down and see that the cold rain has washed
The diamonds right off of my finger.

No bother, I shrug, I have more diamonds at home
A chest full of jewels and pearls
Bought by past beaus and the one that I chose
When I was a beautiful girl.

Still, life can be trifling and long, I suppose
And money can’t buy happiness
Homes full of fireplaces, they still can be cold
And silver can tarnish, I guess.

I sigh and open up my purse
To take my photos out
And running my hands over them,
I hear a familiar shout.

My Lady, what are you doing here
Sitting in the rain?
Don’t you know you’ll catch your death
What’s this? Are you in pain?

And he takes my arm and lifts me up
And wipes my dripping brow
Don’t look at those pictures, they’ll just make you sad
Come, darling, come on with me now.

And I let him take my tired arm
And lead me tenderly
And off we go as twilight darkens
The whiskered drunk and me.

I’ve  found a nice box for you to sleep in tonight
He tells me with a grin
And I thank him but tell him as nice as you please
That I really can’t ask him in.

That’s alright, My Lady, he says
I’ve a duplex that’s just down the way
And here is a part of a roll that I’ve saved
That will hold you until break of day.

He smells of dirt and turpentine
He smells of death and gin
He looks an old and homeless bum
But he’s my only friend.

I close the box as best I can
And the roll is gone in three bites
The rain on the cardboard is so very loud
But this is one of my better nights.

I don’t know how I came to this
I think as the memories come
Losing my children and losing my mind
My husband and lastly, my home.

The streets are long and lonely now
The friendly faces are few
My coat is threadbare but it was nice
Back when it was new.

I pull the rags close to my chest
And will myself to sleep
Falling now into the dreams
Where love lies ever deep.

I hear a knock upon the door
And wake to find my friend
He hands me a flower and then we take a drink
And sing “Amazing Grace” again.






By Voo
April 20, 2011
9:50 p.m.

A THOUSAND KNIVES

A Thousand Knives
.
.
.
Beyond darkness,

Unforgiveness shouts
Like a thousand knives

Forgetfulness, 
Soiled beneath memories,
Creaking, lying………

I feel terror,
Torment,
Loneliness,

My lover
Is an angry mob.
.
.

by Voo
June 28, 2011
10:10 p.m.

HANDS OF FIRE











Hands of Fire 




I took the fire in my hands
Blew upon the blaze,
Clasped it to my hungry heart
And upwards I did gaze.

My mind was full of worry
My soul was full of woe,
My body was a tired thing
That did not want to go.

But down within, my spirit man
Stood up and said goodbye,
Waved farewell to the slaves of hell
And every scheme and lie.

They didn’t want to let go
They screamed their angry screams,
They threatened to make nightmares
Out of all my dreams.

And though their threats were frightening
And my flesh fought hard to flee,
I didn’t let them see my fear
Or weakness within me.

I turned not to the right or left
I kept my face like flint,
I felt the fire consume me
Though I was not burned or bent.

The devils howled in terror
The demons crawled away,
But the fire they feared, that holy fire
Refined me there that day.

My flesh began to crumble
My soul sought to submit,
My spirit grew to ten feet tall
And my mind was awed by it.

No more a faithless, worthless worm
No more a dirty rag,
My inner man, the eternal me
Stepped out of that worn bag.

And as I stood and watched it die
My mouth began to praise,
My eyes began to see the plan
Designed in ancient days.

And all my soul was quieted
And all my heart was healed,
And all the false things in my life
Fell off and became real.

I burned and burned as I drank deep
Of the new wine in the cup,
I burned when I ate of the bread
And I did not burn up.

I walked the world in flames of fire
That shot out of my eyes,
My heart, a wounded thing made whole
That heard the whole world’s cries.

And even now, as I write this
I must, of God, inquire,
How can I hold this paper here
When my hands are on fire?

I long to lay them on the heads
Of lost and dying men,
To show them hope in hopelessness
And make them live again.

I want to im-part what I’ve learned
To unbelieving fools,
Share with them the joys of life
Equip them with new tools.

I need to take them to the well
And bid them to drink deep,
Break their chains of dark despair
And give them keys to keep.

I desire to give this holy fire
That burns now higher still,
To man and woman, boy and girl
And whosoever will.

I’d give my life for others
If others my life could save,
I’d pull them out with my own hands
From the coldness of the grave.

This fire that’s shut up in my bones
Bids me to preach and teach,
This fire in my heart and hands
Bids me to seek and reach.

I yearn to touch the untouchables
And make them clean and new,
Watch the dross burn out of the gold
May I share this fire with you?





©by Voo