WHAT WAS CAN BE AGAIN

What Was Can Be Again....................

                            

The past is dead but still alive in it's haunting, lingering way

We see tomorrow coming up while it is yet today

We think of things that we must do and things we should have done

And groan to think of work and toil when we could be having fun.

The little boy becomes a man, the man becomes a boy

Sitting in his rocking chair, bereft of childhood's toys

The little girl becomes a mother with children of her own

And then they leave to parents be and leave her all alone.

Cause and effect, response, react, reflexes unaware

We huddle closer to our heart to find some comfort there

The memories quiet in our minds till called to take us back

To happier days where we try to stay till the present's whip is cracked.

The days when we were beautiful, the days when we were loved

We treat those photographs like gold and hold them with kid gloves

We tell ourselves those days were real and these are but a dream

And sadly look in aging eyes knowing we 're not what we seem.

The lovers in us yearn for love, the singers, for the song

The painters long for palettes full and murals ten miles long

The teachers in us need to teach the lessons that we know

Could help the young still having fun to spare them from our woe.

But lessons learned must come from life and pain and joy and sorrow

We cannot hold to yesterday grasping for tomorrow

We cannot keep what pulled itself from our tightly clenching hands

They must be empty of all that was......... so that it can be again.

©By Voo

August 27, 2005

2 a.m.

BLACK LIKE THE NIIGHT

Black Like The Night

.
.

She wore black like the night
Downtown in that little dive of darkness
I watched her from my bar stool;
Nursing my beer and my recently shattered, manly pride.

.

Somehow, I couldn’t see her in a place like this
She looked mythical, like a creature rising from a song
Long, black hair and eyes like midnight;
I wanted to fall into them but I held back.

.

I wondered if she was a spell caster
Or evil masquerading as sweetness
We stared across the dim lit noisy room;
Until my soul could no longer resist.

.

I wanted to buy her champagne
But they didn’t have any
I wanted to take her for a walk on the moon;
But I knew she’d already been there.

.

When I came to myself, night was fading
I was in the middle of a dream at the edge of the world
I opened my eyes and saw her standing on the water;
Beckoning me with music in her fingers.

.

Her smile was like honey, but it was not warm
Still, I starved for her and reached out as I stood
I heard a murmur as I stumbled in the dark trees;
But no matter how hard I reached, I could not touch her.

.

She was an angel, she was a demon
She was a siren and a premeditated crime
Taunting me with whispers till I ran screaming;
I fell into the black water and plunged to my despair.

.

But that was then and this is now
Now I sit on a different bar stool in a different dive
It’s midnight and I have no pride left in me at all;
And there she is, wearing black, and shining like a promise.

.

She beckons me and I follow, as she knows I will
As I do when the madness calls and I am lost
She carries the keys to my desperation;
And she always finds me.

.
.

©By Voo
August 1, 08
five after midnight

THE RAIN MAN DANCES one of my scariest writes

The Rain Man Dances

and the rain man dances on the dark divide

of heaven and hell, beckons me inside

and I run but stop at his grinning face

there in the dark and gleaming space

of death and dream, found then but lost

there at the foot of the unfound cross.

               

               

the black skies darken, if indeed they can

to hide the shadow of a shattered man

but in the flashing of a lightning bolt

I see what's left of my last last hope

a pale hand reaches to touch my face

to pour on me it's soothing grace.

      

pushes back my hair and pats my cheek

and fills my mouth with something sweet

I swallow hard and wipe my eyes

then look in stunned and sad surprise

to see the rain man dancing still

as the cold rain falls and melts my will.

     

the desert of my soul has drowned

my cries imprisoned in a well of sound

the rain man stops his dance of death

as thunder roars and grabs my breath

and down we go on paths of pain

to eternal desert and no more rain.

  

the iron gate shuts and the lights grow dim
on my voiceless prayer and my wordless hymn

I fall in the nightmare where the lost ones reside

and the rain man dances on the dark divide.

               

         

scary soundtrack for poem

this music adds so very much to the read.....

©by Voo

Jan 21, 05 4:42 p.m.

based on a nightmare

FUGITIVE FROM LOVE

 

Fugitive From Love

(a modern day outlaw tale with no happy ending)

I am a fugitive from love

I’ve been on the run for years

I’ve been shot down by heart break bullets

My eyes shed blood red tears.

I am a fugitive from love

Afraid of that lovin’ stuff

Don’t want no fancy free liaisons

No one night romance fluff.

I am a fugitive from love

I only move at night

When love shines it’s light down on me

I keep out of sight.

I am an outlaw running free

I live by no one’s rules

I believe no lies so don’t even try

For I am no longer a fool.

That man, he broke my baby heart

He took away my soul

So I became a fugitive

Hiding in the cold.

(And now you think that you can arrest me

You’re surprised when I resist)

Put on these handcuffs, you say to me

And I’ll lock them with a kiss.

You’ll never take me alive, I say

You’ll never make me stay

I am a fugitive from love

And I will run away.

You shook me by my shoulders

So rigid with pride yet soft

And you said, You’re talking crazy, girl

Baby, that’s crazy talk.

But crazy or no, I will not go

Be led away in chains

You tell me love is getting healed

But all I see is pain.

But I let you persuade me a little

I relented and resigned to my fate

I forgot to forget for a minute

But as you slept, I crept out and escaped.

And I ran and I ran and I ran

Through the night and the stars and the rain

And I cried and I cried and I cried

As I caught that southbound train.

I am a fugitive from love

A woman, scarred and torn

An innocent victim of the pain

That simply can’t be borne.

It hunts me like a prisoner

Though I have committed no crime

It convicts me in the court of love

But I will serve no time.

I am a fugitive from love

An outlaw running free

So skilled am I, don’t even try

You cannot capture me.

You cannot capture me

You cannot capture me

I am a fugitive from love

And you cannot capture me.

©by Voo

Feb 16, 2004

secret garden by Bruce Springsteen
goes perfectly with poem

FRIDAY NIGHT, CORNER TABLE

Friday Night,  Corner Table

Friday night

Corner table

Candlelight,

Wine,

And you.

I'm so nervous

That I'll say something

Do something

Feel something

Wrong.

But 

Your eyes 

Shine over my face

Like sparkles on the ocean

Like a man on a mission.

Cheers, you say

And I nod,

Raise my glass,

Clink and let the champagne

Glide it's way down my thirsty throat.

Are you happy?

I'm caught off guard

And I blink and laugh a small laugh

As the bubbles tickle my nose

And I feel your fingers on my wrist.

The band starts,

The busboy takes the dishes away

All the while smiling

And staring at me in my sequins

And freshly curled hair.

You signal 

For more wine

Unless you want something more potent?

You query and I shake my head

No, thank you, I've had more than enough.

I turn my chair

Towards the stage

But you catch my arm

And turn me back to you

Not yet, you say, not just yet.

And we sit there

Watching one another

Wondering in low light

Swimming in questions

Drowning in song.

After three pieces, fast and slow

The maestro stops 

Holds up his hand and says

We have a special request

From the gentleman at the corner table.

He wants to know

If the girl of his dreams,

The lovely lady with the pretty curls,

The woman that's sitting there tonight,

Will be his wife?

And I gasp

And put my hand to my mouth

As you slip a ring onto my other. Will you?

You ask with your heart in your eyes. Will you be mine? 

But I am speechless.

This was going to be our last date

I had decided. I was tired of waiting.....

Our last date. I had been trying to find the words

But if you never read this poem, I guess

That's something that you'll never know.

©by Voo

Feb 17, 08

4:45 p.m. 

the song they were dancing to.....

I  See Your Face Before Me  by Johnny Hartman....................