And count myself the most lucky of men.
"Our pioneers keep striking
Inwards and downwards"
---"Bogland," Seamus Heaney [1939--]
What made the knock so clumsily evoke
your trappings - still unfinished in this dark alloy
of dawn, where clouds and men fight to poke
and mesh you in their plots? To me, a boy,
you look petite yet grand in radiance - even as
you lie on shadowed ground where they are ants.
Embroiled in human sweat each tiny fist has
charm enough - so near extinction - to enhance
the site before you stand to propel the ground
into oblivion and walk with me beside
the lake, our home, where giant dreams
inhale and spout. Oh I am dumbfound
in the glare and shrewd device where we collide -
while time and you abandon, in extremes.
I don't know him yet, but i seek to find,
Those beautiful eyes which wont leave my mind.
His laugh, his smile, his beautiful hair,
Lights up my life when i'm full of despair.
Who is this man that is in my sweet dreams?
We talk nightly on the internet screen.
He wants us to meet next week on a date,
Oh what will i wear?I'm in such a state!
I search through the endless crowds at the station
Oh i tremble with anticipation.
My heart pounds like waves beating on the shore,
As those eyes meet mine, that smile i'm sure.
This man i've known on the internet line,
My sweet dreams come true, forever he's mine.
Our crazy vehicles slam through the days,
neglecting alibis and scribbled spawn.
You watch for pause; you try to tempt the dawn
from slipping when you sleep, your eyelids graze
their salty spheres, and day glides into phase.
I list oblivions: initials drawn
in wood, your temples shifting through a fawn-
brown lock. You work your jaw in crooked ways
in sleep as if haranguing alibis
from time. "I stopped here once, I swear!" you dream,
"I left a hobo's mark upon this post!"
So in your dream, I stalk these knife marks, spy
to find our names in wood, but. . .only seams
cut madly from a moving car by ghosts.
The Best Times of Your Life Are in High School
Summer is over and school has begun.
The homework I'll have will pile up for me.
Working till midnight is always real fun.
I now look towards weekends with days of three.
More stress than there should be, the bell just rang.
October break comes, and soon winter too.
With leaves of yellow like lemon meringue.
We'll probably have work assigned - woo-hoo!
Our few breaks will be over too quickly.
But Spring Break offers refuge for a week.
Just in time to get our grades quarterly.
The outlook on school life looks really weak.
Everyone does it so I can't complain.
Just doing it all might drive me insane.
A moment I sat pondering my life
But that one instant was too much to take;
I saw a girl who relished in her strife