Four Poems by Myrtle Thomas

 

Another Naked Poem of Shadows and Autumn

how quick my eyes caught the shadow

of an autumn leaf falling from a tree!

I even saw the memory that it held once

or was it the memory that I held?

for it was a day like no other

a time in my life when I could smell

the sun resting on the forest floor.

surely the birds can be seen clearly now

resting on bent branches, their eyes quick

black and deep with a hint of knowing!

I wonder if I've seen this same bird before

flying under the shade of clouds

with the sun resting on its feathers.

somewhere there are small children

looking with the same eyes of question,

that I've looked past and fallen over- now

in the last chapter of my book I've separated

the images and the sounds, leaving some -

taking and erasing others, the secrets of my eyes.

was it my fate to disturb what was so long ago!

the autumn when I cast away my old clothing

and put quieter shoes on my feet to keep the noise

of my footsteps from rising in the rustle of autumn leaves?

I question my own fingerprints and footprints

those that I leave behind on surfaces and time .

was it my own desire to gather the leaves?

to place them in the large book and save them!

so much to hold in my old age - I can't judge what to keep

or what to turn loose from my mind or my soul

even more so today as my heart roars like the sea

waiting for the summer flowers to bloom again.

holding passion like an old lover  in my  body

mixing the emotions that autumn stirs within me

and the hem of darkness turns to a field of stars -

of old wounds that still bleed through the scars

that have buried themselves deeply in this body

I'm an old soul that's lived and loved - sometimes

forsaken passion still blooms in the last chapter

of a poet's life!

Untitled in Memory

too much time to find myself

                 lost in his earthen eyes

                                     too little sleep!

sometimes I wander through a cavern

dark, cold fingers are breeding in its depths

walk forward and never stay still

muffle the whispers of yesterday

walk by the hurt that still finds those wounds

though they are scars now.

time was hidden away in my heart

what of the things I tied and untied!

sometimes to touch those invisible fingerprints -

with my now withered hands

I stroke my arms and face to find my skin still intact

still and silent I can find unrest in the thirst and hunger.

my how we devoured our youth!

chasing through the darkness without a flame

accepting the cold dead flowers laid at my feet

the heap of stones I claimed as my own

though some I kept because they were lovely

they held a certain sparkle - a glimpse of the universe.

somehow eternity failed to swallow some of my memories

how did I find my way through that portal?

when for so long I walked on air and swam the oceans

treading the barriers and climbing the borders of cold stones

sometimes we both walked on a hot path of flaming coals

too much in love or lust to feel our feet burning.

today and tomorrow are too dark and cold to face that reflection

the looking glass we both broke years ago lies outside of the door

covered with kisses and the blood of our battles

if only time could devour me with tender teeth and lift me with wings

or take me to another cloud and silence yesterday's echoes.

Bells Ringing in the Distance

from somewhere between living and dying
and in the midst of music and silence
my eyes and ears received the marvelous sight
the magical beat of my heart breathing the echo-
of the wind and its powerful breath
as each breath seems expected and unexpected
then I feel autumn appear wearing a sombrero of colour
the leaves waving in the blue background of the sky.

I slept outside the closed door , thinking of opening it
fighting with myself for that courage , the bravery weakened
who holds the key to be welcoming of strangers ?
I'm not one who wishes to kick or burn the fallen leaves
nor snuff the light of a flaming candle
nor can I retain the wind as my own , nor quiet the ocean
but I have seen the golden hues of autumn trees
knowing the history of statues and watching their dead eyes.

sleep begs me to venture into mysterious lands and seas
to concentrate on the cause of fire and the stars that live
to listen to the fire crackle and see the live ash rise in the air
to become dust and fertilize the earth
God forbid me to become blind and deaf to what lies in the horizon
maybe seeing everything or nothing at all
maybe hearing your name spoken in the travelling wind
or the ringing of bells to usher in another season.

everyone will know that my clothes are worthless on my nakedness
everyone says they know my name ; they talk about me in whispers
my soul hears their every word , even the wind apologizes
and watches me count my days and nights on my fingers-
I see the numbers don't add up to my speculations or my wishes
only more proof the I'm poor and frail with my feet sinking into a grave
human eyes can't see my spirit ripped and bleeding in this poverty
only the universe with its eyes and ears know humanities pain.

O' but the passion that fills my soul and reaches higher than my arms
the passion of a woman for her man and he for her
the down trodden spirits that catch their breath and commit to a vow
are they more different than they were before they wove threads from the
moonlight or danced in the garden in the shadow of the sun?
somehow what is less makes everything so much richer in life
the more that my heart beats the more I bleed for my lover
when the wind roars and whines his name, I reach for it and conceal it.

Trying to feel the poet Pablo Neruda in my poem tonight, though I fail.

A Mother Cries All Alone

my soul lays wide open
its eyes blinded by the light
here you cannot enter its darkness
the years covered by emptiness
have become loss as well .

finding me unwelcome in your happiness
with a turn key door to misery
oh, my child in your contempt!
you've harmed me to my core.

yes, my emotions sleep unattended
guarded with a shroud of grey clouds
drenched in the wetness my tears
without a corner of your heart.

for now, there is a whisper coming from my room
four corners masked in shadows
of where your love failed to bloom
all has been forfeited cast away in the storm.

my child that nursed from the breast
fed and filled - you have deserted my soul
cursed me in the light of the moon
betrayed my heart and buried it
left me uncovered to be no better off than before.

I'm not as dead as you make me
though I shrink more into the darkness
this room that I evaporate in welcomes
my emotions knowing nothing else remains
to be said.

Myrtle Thomas lives in the United States and has been published in several poetry journals and magazines such as "Otherwise Engaged Literature and Arts Journal, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Fevers of the Mind Journal, Keeping The Flame Alive Magazine, The Writers and Readers Magazine, October Stories Journal, Rebirth Journal, Sincere Dalliances Magazine, Masticadores USA. Masticadores Canada, Chewers and Masticadores, Literary Cocktail Magazine, Ink Pantry, Ain't no Dead Beats Around Here ( Beat poetry ). Myrtle self-published four books of poetry (On The Horizon, Beyond The Horizon and the continuum Seasons of My Life) which are three books in one. The fourth As Times Goes On Another year down the road.  She writes of love, loss and nature . She can be found on ALLpoetry .com under the Penn name Blue2U.