Poetry In Motion
The Choice

Tittering with the edge of this crucible,
Jittery with my double-minded confusion
I clutch my sludge
Not greedy to go back again
And face the smelter of revelation.
The bellowing furnace flares up
To vanquish my veneers,
"Only the Authenitic may enter and endure."

Turning to peer outside the kettle
Feeling devoted to my mire
The darkness slinks in to smother me
Like a thick wool blanket
To wrap me up inisde its lie,
"It would be better to collapse out into Obscurity."

I choose
F
A
L
L
I
N
G
Into the Light!


(c) 2002 Jerry P. Quinn



The Beach
(18 years later)

If we get the chance
to walk the beach hand in hand
the night's sky clustered with stars
and a fat bright moon, will you stroll with me?
Will you take your shoes off with me
and feel the gentle waves caress our feet?
Will you run away expecting me to follow?
Will you fall so I can catch you?
If you say yes
I'll find the beach.

(c) 2002 Jerry P. Quinn

Wino

Hunger
    Scratching from his stomach
       Spoke of aimlessness.

Face scattered with
    Stubbles and dirt
         Drangon's breath
               Foul and rancid.

Eyes
   Wet with self-pity
       I sensed the pain
          Splitting his soul
             As he searched for life.

       (c) 2002 Jerry P. Quinn
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A Rare Vintage
Jesus

In vain
My Name
crosses your path.
You don't heed
the muted moans
from tissue tearing
pierced by thorns,
talons and spikes
pounded purposefully
each time
you mock Me.
I'm some one
else to you.


(c) 3-30-2002 Jerry P. Quinn
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