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Kevin Lawrence Poem
On a walk after the worst of the Sandy storm
I slogged down the still dampening
Green grass valley rutted between
The moldering fences of the shadowed alley.
Under the low, ominously rushing, soggy gray clouds
I saw so many black birds silently
Clinging against the stiff breezes
To the broken branches of the skeletal oak on the corner
As if they relished the fate of the cruelly stripped leaves.
I saw a hundred crows there.
How many make a murder?
Black pointy wraiths;
Scattered commas lined up like
Iron shavings stuck
To magnetic branches.
Dull steel skies slid in vast arcs around them.
Sprinkling windy foreboding,
Their clouds reached down
To Collect their talons.
So many eyes I know they see
Spiny black needles poking out of me.
Bloodless murder, muffling gray gauze No need to caw…,
A hundred crows see it all.
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
Leaving my son's house, a rain-burst had just passed.
At the edge of the wood, contrasted against dark clouds,
A single tree stood glowing.
Wet in the sun’s rays, its leaves shimmering in the breeze.
A feather in the forest glowing,
Singly.
Brightly shining yellow green,
A cottonwood applauds the coming of the rains.
Waving glimmering in rain rays, wet enlightening.
Reminding me to dance in the sun.
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
How your brilliance and intellectual dominance fascinate me.
Looking into your baby eyes wide and blue, I still see your knowing awareness, high voltage connections.
You laughed as a baby, with me, or at me?
How quicky did you discover our world's stupidity? When did your broken heart shear your funny bone, too?
Have you not yet accepted terms of this life, clicked the check box and exposed your vulnerability? Will you acceed to your lack of control? Will you reach out to the only concrete anchor we have? Will you embrace the lonely hopeless souls looking for the same relief you are desperate to know?
We all walk the same funeral march into our graves. Won't you pick up a piece of love, entertain some forgiveness, and carry some peace on the way to your certain grave?
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
A Tree Filled With Doves
I heard the giggles
And whispers of feathers
Before I saw the tree explode
In clouds of rambunctious doves.
Rising in a cloud upwards to the just risen sun
Like drunken conventioneers stumbling into the morning
Squinting and laughing, rushing toward another day of living.
Surprised but not frightened, I froze in wonder hoping to feel their breezes.
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
Divorce sucks!
But,... marriage is worse.
"It doesn't have to be like this."
Life flows and we sink,
Swim or float.
Our choice.
Not every eddy
Or every rock
Presents a fearful
Block.
Love regardless
Means acceptance.
A forever entanglement
Not broken by
Cyclic patterns of resentment,
Fear, anger, or violence.
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
Inspired Thinking
Inspired, I’m thinking
I haven’t an inkling
From where it comes
And where it’s going.
Crawling from a rock
Laid down atop
Fossilized dream silts
Beneath the rivers of
My mind?
Inspired, I’m thinking
Somewhere a clock is ticking
Keeping time to the echoes of
My mind.
Drifting weightless into sleep or
Waking as if popping into a dream
Inspired thinking leaves its tell-tale
Aroma,
An elusive waft upon the
Breath of my rising and falling
Consciousness.
Just a hint of cinnamon sugar
Epiphany, or
Bitter-sweet smoke of
The long dark spark of genius
Striking metal.
The memory of a taste on my tongue.
Giant leaps of intuitive solution,
Cures for mankind’s deepest ills,
Kisses of “Paradise Lost” whose tickle
Quickly fades from my lips.
Maybe there is an “other side.”
Have I in moments of
Inspired thinking drifted too
Closely to the invisible thread?
Have our most brilliant minds
Simply found the way, a state of
Deep mindfulness where they’ve
Learned to hold on to the thread,
The “high-tension” line, of consciousness
Beyond the veil that separates us from
Truth with the illusion of reality?
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
Souls visit me.
In the blood orange curtains in the back of my eyes
Their faces float in and out of focus as they take turns looking for me.
Some are wearing thick round goggles and peer through
As if they can’t see in my darkness.
One face fades into another appearing in the portal of my mind.
I recognize all but a few, breathlessly I call out and ask them to stay.
But, this membrane between me and eternity only permits a glimpse.
Faces of terror and menace I see only in my dreams.
Waking and waiting peering into the flowing orange mists of my closed eyes
I see my hosts, each smiling and fearless, each saying silently,
“It’s going to be ok.”
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
Fixed Gaze
To capture the distant gaze
Of the aged's milky blue eye
Is to gaze into eternity.
Is it my eye they see
Or a distant memory,
The tiniest mote,
The light of a spark?
Fixed upon a place
Staring motionlessly,
Fearing to miss
A glimpse
Of who they might be.
A feeling of falling
Into the vastness of space.
No beginning no ending
Consciousness lost in place.
I swear we connected
Within that long stare.
The horror of knowing
Too soon I'd be there.
A milky blue iris
Not seeing the world
Not seeing me.
Fixed gaze,
The world staring back
At me.
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
LBI, Drifting Sands
Good Morning, Spring. I know you’re awake. I see your color rising with the sun.
Through the open balcony door of our third floor suite, the sea breeze coolly streams into our room as the sunlight pulls time over the warming golden bed sheets.
My love so quietly sleeps, still to hear every breath of the ocean synchronized with the rising and falling of her breast.
Narrowly framed between the doorpost and half opened drapes, the sea stretches a blue-green carpet from the sands to the edge of the Earth. Porpoises dance briefly on its surface and dive beneath its nape.
Sitting comfortably, pen in hand, my eyes capture a picture, the subject of which has been painted in the hearts of everyone finding peace on the edges of the oceans. Sea grass is bending with the breeze, pelted lightly with drifting sands.
Now, it’s time for hot coffee and warm pastry on the balcony by the sea.
Below us across the wide dunes and sun bright sands, a few scattered walkers drag their owners by their leashes near the lapping waves. The stiff wind off the early Spring waves feels chilly, even through their jackets and hats.
As Earth bows in reverence toward her perfect partner, something, someone awakens within me with the warming of the Spring sun. Like sap pumping slowly upward to engorge the budding leaves and reddening flowers of my mind and spirit. Is this dis-order: to be attuned to the rhythm and flow of Mother Earth?
In orbit: that perfect balance of attractions. An effortless flow wherein the music of influence plays in symphonic perturbations. Mother Earth sings her harmonies to Father Sun’s melodies as she twirls in the softening groove of her recorded destiny.
As a flower opens to the Sun, when Spring awakens, so do I, picking back up the verse of my souls praises of the Sun.
Good night sea. Pleasant dreams. Pull the moon’s light gently to your chin, a glowing silver blanket shimmering on your skin.
Comfort me through the night. Come to me through my open door and whisper sweet dreams in my ear. I’ll rise again like the sun to warm you and praise the gifts of your bounteous life.
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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Kevin Lawrence Poem
A smithy peers into a white hot
Ingot formed square
Seeing the idea of a meaning
Form there
How many turns at the anvil
How many soakings
In the heat
Long sweating hours hammering
Out her beat
The shape of the curve
Coaxed, twisted
Unnerve
Rough forged
Dimpled and scaled
The infant soul struggles
To be released
Feverishly filing
Sanding
Blasting
Pausing...
Was that too much
Sleep on it
Dream of it
Put her on the table
Wait for her to speak
To cry out for your care
Grow into your dream
Polish until her sparkling
Truth is revealed
The word smith
Gazes in awe
She has been the midwife
Servant and guide through the
Strife
Chaos
Of meanings life
Copyright © Kevin Lawrence | Year Posted 2018
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