POET TREE 3



Art by Michael Wheelan


THE STORM OF WOMANHOOD

I was young, so much younger

When I saw the storm.

A strange storm of women,

Of all who'd been born.


They aged in the whirlwind

As they fell to the sea,

Pictures of everything

That woman could be.


I thought I knew all

That could have been known,

But the storm made me see

What I hadn't been shown.


A storm of all women

And all that they knew,

And through my young eyes

Their lives swiftly flew.


The things that I learned

Were too much to say,

But they've kept me awake

And still haunt me today.


I thought I knew women,

And I learned I was wrong.

I'd thought they were weaklings,

And had seen them so strong.


I'd thought only of softness

When I'd looked on their skin,

Yet I learned of their hardships

And the hands of us men.


My father, he told me

To forget what I'd seen,

But shame overcame me

When I saw what I'd been.


Be careful, my children,

On this journey we take.

The storm of the women

Will reveal what you fake.


So see how they flitter,

How they die, how they live

And learn from the women

All the lessons they give.


You can see how they're different,

Yet so strangely the same.

Your mother's among them,

And she's calling my name.


And soon I will join her,

But I just couldn't go

Until you had witnessed

What the storm has to show.


Forget not its power

And revere woman's might.

And always respect them,

And you'll be steered right.


Oreja




THE BRASS POT


Found on ancient scroll,

gnarled and old.


The script was old and type was rare,

but it told the reader to beware


If found any sealed brass jars,

sealed with a seal of a king who could talk to the stars.


For in these jars like these are sealed evil Jinn'

who would not submit to the rule of Lord Solomon.


So with the awesome powers he did seal,

the rebellious ones who did not kneel.


Hence ordered his faithful spirits to put away,

these jars somewhere never to see the light of Day.


But ages later after the mighty king had gone,

only remembered in stories and song.


A poor fisherman discovered one of these,

somewhere floating in the seas of Arabi.


The evil ones inside, ones who cannot die and older than man,

hearing the voices, came on upon a plan.


As the man carried jar, still sealed to the shore, the scroll told

the Ginn clinged their bracelets of silver and gold.


The man hearing this came thoughts of precious treasure within,

And how this wealth would bring such pleasure to his family and him.


The evil ones sniggered with glee,

of freedom for long imprisoned misery


The man with greed, he did start

to break away the old king seal ring mark.


As he called his wife to him, to show the treasures he thought of

so began the escape of the foul spirits to the sky above.


But as the jinn twirled into the air,

they caught the wife by her hair


Pulled away across the sea,

leaving the fisherman in misery.


Pleading with cries to return his wife

the man reached out to get back the star of his life.


Alas the evil ones did not halter

and stole away across the water.


And the writer with words to thee,

Do not open Brass jars found on the sea.


Aussie_Chatter




From the skies the nightmare came

To take his love away

Lost was she, from his embrace

With him she could not stay


All along he always knew

With him she did not belong

For he was real and she was not

Their love was virtually wrong


His happiness, it was short-lived

Their love was but a dream

And in the chambers of his heart

Echoes a nightmare scream


Until he finds someone who's real

Lonely he will remain

Until that time he has no choice

But to endure the pain


Kit




Shall I always be misunderstood,

shall my cries in the darkness always fall upon empty ground.

Shall no one ever hear

What I should Say or

How I should be.

Is this my destiny

to never feel sunlight or

hear the laughters of those around me.

I fear the darkness has come to over take me.

Whom shall I turn for the breath I so desperately need.

Who shall come and breathe into me the life I need so desperately.

The Life I am supposed to lead,

The life of a righteous Woman and Seerer.

I can not face the Life alone

and yet As I cry into the darkness

I only see the darkness staring back at me.

Will anyone hear me or See my destiny also or

Will I always sit in the darkness and Cry.

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Poet Tree




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