The Chosen Few
Becca
Wandering through the stacks, she spies
Dad's smoke rings encircle and into her mind delve
The smell lingers, heavy, burning her eyes
Her old favorites leaning on the dusty shelves
Dad's smoke rings encircle and into her mind delve
Why have they kept these chosen few?
Her old favorites leaning on the dusty shelves
They appear to be worshipers sitting in a pew
Why have they kept these chosen few?
They spoke her language when they hummed
They appear to be worshipers in a pew
Keeping rhythm with the heartbeat of a drum
They spoke her language when they hummed
The smoke in her mind and in her nose
Keeping rhythm with the heartbeat of a drum
She now recalls almost every line of prose
The smoke in her mind and in her nose
Air heavy with the ones who were lost
She now recalls almost every line of prose
Rupert Brooke, Isaac Rosenberg, not Robert Frost
Air heavy with the ones who were lost
Their brief remembrances of wars fought
Rupert Brooke, Isaac Rosenberg, not Robert Frost
She read them in the papers, their books never bought
Their brief remembrances of wars fought
Stories never to be shared or recalled
She read them in the papers, their books never bought
The demise of the ones whose writing stalled
Stories never to be shared or recalled
They only kept the words they spoke
The demise of the ones whose writing stalled
In Dad's pipe went up in smoke
In Dad's pipe and lingering in the musty air
The words they keep are only the words spoken here
Fate Of The Gods
Becca
Your Hard exterior meant to keep you alone;
Are you awaiting a piercing?
Solid facade, a deception full of holes;
Fissures with your pouring Spirit, sing
Always a fool for the confusing love;
Sex, affection, animosity, the pendulum swing
O! How I falter, stumbling over the pitfalls;
My emotions cut deep, my heart left aching
Carved of a solid, smooth piece, yet open;
Allowing the flow of your gifts, bathing
Perturbation, chaos, the lingering;
Disorientation, new knowledge tangling
Our infatuation so strong, the wrath;
Hate, passion, the apple found enchanting
Held in each other's arms, temptation;
First risk, first child, innocence and yearning
Our child, another fool too naive to realize;
The bewilderment of life, the thrill of falling
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