Showing posts with label oysters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oysters. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Pieces of Sky

October 29

PIECES OF SKY



The sky falls in pieces and clutters around my feet.  Scattered are the moon, stars and sun.  Fear and desire have consumed all the rest.  Great tides of resentment wash away reality and replace it with illusion and propaganda.  What am I to do when want drives the course?  Satisfaction is unknown; the luminous butterfly I believed extinct has not yet come to me.  I leave the shards of life to tinkle as I stumble through them and forget to ask for wings of sweet contentment from unexplored realms.  Paper dreams burn with fervor; I peer to see what stands behind.  The gracious weather carries me as a seed to a vaulted canopy, celestial spaces, buoyant and fertile.  I will grow away from the rarefied fragments of unrealistic vistas, sinking roots deep in cohesion and truth.  Pieces of sky melt to rainbows; home is the nature of things.


Jingle your intellectual change.
*


On a Half-shell in Front of Tiffany’s

Pretty petty pearls wait in oysters
more perturbed than annoyed.
I string my tears for the sake of posterity
leaving the dreams to fend for themselves.

I am nothing if not splendidly prepared
for a life less steeped in wishes than realism.
Opening volleys tell a tale of round irritation,
but I am not finished just yet.

Joy comes from surpassing obstacles
and wearing healed grief
as precious gems around my neck.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Age and Death

December 22

Age and Death

When death was young
It did its job cleanly no mincing about
Now the uncertainty and old age tremble
Leave the world filled with half dead zombies
Living is less for the faltering of death
I would rather be struck down swiftly with a scythe
Than bludgeoned endlessly with a butter knife

Sing with the wind

*
Before Pearls

You must stop crying
You must

The endless tears will poison you
Your teeth and soul, the life of you

Just because you don’t know how you can go on
Doesn’t mean the world will stop to let you off

The raw red rough of it will drag you to its lair
Doing what it will with you, there is no hope to spare

Unloved child you must go on
Lied to and misguided doesn’t change the time

There is nowhere to lie down and sleep
No safe and sheltered home

So dry your face, pick up your pack
Carry all your freight

Close your eyes to beauty
Close your ears to lies

You are the only oyster
The sand your only prize

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault