Lil Gray

[Lil Gray]

<a name="#seventy five"> Ebb </a>

Walking into the night
She allows it to envelop her;
A cape of inky black velvet
Wrapped about her slender form
Silence is periodically broken
As gentle waves
Rush upon welcoming beach
The fog begins to roll inland
Delicately caressing her face
With misty, cool fingers
She feels each grain of sand
Beneath bared feet
The occasional shard of shell
Biting into tender flesh
The only reminder
That pain still exists
Somewhere
In the “real” world
And on she walks
Forgetting a bit more of it
As each footprint
Is swept out to sea
In salty
Cleansing
Tide

As soul is purified
In salty
Cleansing
Tears

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#seventy six"> Nightmares </a>

Eerie, distorted shadows
Play across dreams’ ceilings…
Creep silently down the walls…
Take on the chill of clammy floors
And wrap ivy-like tendrils
Lithely about him
In constrictor’s deadly embrace
Writhing, physical being
Playing along
Twists
Wrapping itself
In tangled sheets
Panicked throes interrupted
Bolting upright
Chest heaving
He pauses
Blanket retrieved from
Disheveled heap at the end of the bed
Offers what comfort it can
From dry whisper of banished nightmares
Skittering off

To regroup…

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#seventy seven"> Forget-Me-Nots </a>

Breeze dances lithely
‘Cross the hill
Sending aged swing
Cracked and gray with age
Gently rocking

Dapples of morning’s sun
Play tag through the shadows
‘Neath the ancient boughs
Tenderly warming sweet faces
Of Forget-Me-Nots
Gathered ‘round

Distant memories echo
Laughter of young love

Peacefully
Old man smiles

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#seventy eight"> Mother's Journal </a>

She closes the journal
Uneasily running the flat of her hand
Against the worn cover
Desperately trying to press the words
Back inside it
But they remain unleashed
Rattling their chains
Along the corridors of her mind
No whispered curse
At her inquisitive longings
No mystical incantations
Can relegate the thoughts
Back to the unknown
Haunting echoes will linger
For the rest of her days
This twisted life's view
Through the eyes
Of the cruel

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#seventy nine"> Fearless Protector </a>

Acute senses
Stir him to ready
Ears perked
Eyes afire
Hackles raised
Every muscle tensed
He studies the interloper
Carefully
Before bellowing
Ferocious warning

Beyond window pane
Offender yawns lazily
Stretching velvety paws
Across sun-warmed
Wooden decking

And catnap resumes…

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty"> This Morning on the Farm </a>

Spring trembles
In exuberant expectation
Fresh trickles from ice jam
Atop barn roof
Making crystalline, glimmering
Splashes
Nature’s diamonds
Cast on weathered planking
Curly new calves suckle
Contentedly
Old Tom feels it
Joining, briefly, in
Kittens’ carousing
Farm dog scatters robins
Wagging happily
At their presence
Farmer smiles
As muddy water
Seeps into ancient
Rubber boots

And unforgiving northern winter
Sighs in submission

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty one"> Misery </a>

Drowning in waves
No one else can see

Strangled by hands
No other can feel

Tortured by screams
Heard only
Inside

Solace stolen
By Depression’s
Paralyzing
Kiss

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty two"> Center of the Universe (It's All About...) </a>

The world according to…
Never pausing to consider
There may be more
Than is known by…
Never an inkling dances
Behind imperious gaze

Stamping angrily
While standing still
As ever…waiting
For the world
To revolve
Around…

You…

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty three"> Through His Eyes </a>

I listened to his voice
Middle-Eastern accent dripping
From each pleading syllable
He spoke of civilian casualties...


Civilian casualties
At the hand of their own
Their leader
He spoke of starvation
Ignored
For palaces of gold
He spoke of oppression
Cruelties
For sake of control

He spoke of civilian casualties
Perhaps for the first time
Still tragic, but
Part of a greater good
For his uncle
His cousin
His brothers are already dead
At the hand of their own…

He spoke of liberation
He spoke of returning
Home

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty four"> The Enabler </a>

“It’s all about Bush and ‘his’ oil!”
She wails
Peering
Imperiously
Through her plastic sunglasses
Sipping from her plastic-bottled water
She chirps the same
To the bag-boy
On the way home
As he collects her pre-packaged everything
Into plastic bags
And loads them into the back of her SUV
She feeds her family
On plastic plates
And plastic cups
For she’s far too busy
With her protesting
To wash dishes
Or recycle
She’ll wake in the morn
And drive to the mall
Paying for synthetic clothing
With more plastic
But there will be no protests today
She’s going home
To wax the car
On her new asphalt drive
While her husband cooks out
On the propane grill
And at nightfall
The kids snuggle in
To their poly-fill sleeping bags
In their nylon tent
In the back yard
Idealistic self-satisfaction
Drips from her words
As she lights a smoke with her
Butane lighter

“Yep. It’s all about Bush and ‘his’ oil…”

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty five"> Nina </a>

The voice of Nina Simone has ever been a warm, soothing balm to my heart and soul. She died, today. <img border="0" title="" alt="[Frown]" src="frown.gif" /> This is one of the several pieces I wrote while listening to her weaving her vocal magic, and though I feel I could never do her justice, I'll whisper a heart-felt "thank you, Nina..."


Blues

The kiss of a brush
Drawn ‘cross the skins
Soulful piano
Mingling with the
Mournful cries of horns
And a voice
Warm and soothing
Like honey-gold bourbon
On a cold winter’s eve.

I close my eyes
And I’m swept away…
To dark, smoky rooms
Kept company in the crowd
Only by heartaches that
Stab with a vengeance
In the wee hours of the morning…

And I marvel at how The Blues
Can help dispel
The Blues…

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty six"> Milk Route </a>

This piece is humbly dedicated to my dad, who would have turned eighty-two at the beginning of June. We lost him several years ago and though we miss him terribly, each moment we shared with him will be cherished, always...


Memories of my childhood;
A thousand days, unfold.
Emotions overwhelm me as
The past secures its hold.

I see my father’s kindly face.
I hear his laughter; deep.
The smell of fresh-baked everything;
From Grandma’s kitchen-keep.

Cows brought in before the dawn.
He milked, and I would feed.
We’d then depart on milk-route,
Rusted truck, our “Noble Steed.”

Though little help I must have been,
At Daddy’s side, I rode.
Remember like it was yesterday,
Though I was only 5 years old.

Deliveries done, we’d stop for breakfast;
The “Arcade” was the best.
With donuts drowned in chocolate icing,
Still warm; they were so fresh.

Then back to farm for daily chores.
I tried my best then, too.
One brother fought in Viet-Nam,
Two others, off to school.

Though those days were trying
I cherish every one
Working beside my father
From dawn to setting sun

I value all the lessons taught
And every moment shared
And the title “Farmer’s Daughter”
Is one I’ll proudly wear

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty seven"> Encore </a>

Far from city skylines
Bustling streets
And cultural havens
Lies a theater of a different sort
I invite you to attend

Fireflies’ Dance begins at nightfall
Ballet graceful
And quite lovely
Tiny lanterns pirouette and dart
As o’er the meadows they wend

Symphony of crickets
Peepers singing
Answer Hoot Owls
Evening breezes lend their whispered tones
As Spirit starts to mend

Subtle, sweet aromas
Field grasses
Wildflower-scent
Tantalize with delicate charms
And peacefulness transcends

Stars sparkle, moonbeams glow
Evening’s calm
In graceful splendor
In reverent ovation we, mere mortals
Simply cannot comprehend

Yes, far from city skylines
Bustling streets
And cultural havens
Lies a theater of a different sort

We’re invited to attend

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty eight"> A-Muse Me...Abuse Me... </a>

She’ll comfort me, and then abuse
Redefines the words I use
Tortures me, yet comforts still
My schizophrenic Muse

One moment, She is reticent
No words to say or thoughts to vent
The next, She violently attacks
And plagues me ‘til I’m spent

At times, Her words are filled with rage
Then without warning, turns the page
I reel from her change of pace
From demon to artful mage

She leads me down the spiral stairs
Then up again, without a care
Of just how dizzy I may get
She does it with such flare

One day, I’ll find a way to tame
I’ll put an end to Her cruel game
She will follow me for once
Or return from whence she came

On second thought, perhaps I’m wrong
It’s true, we might not get along
But as masochistic as this sounds…
I think I’d miss her Siren’s song

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[Lil Gray]

<a name="#eighty nine"> Ties That Bind </a>

Rolling delicate band of gold
Between thumb and forefinger
Bitterness overwhelms him
That which once signified promise
A love shared, evermore
Is now but unwelcome reminder
Of heart’s tether
Shackle of solitude

He closes mist-filled eyes
As senses are haunted
Her scent lingers in his memory
The feel of her breath on his face
The taste of her petal soft lips against his own
The music of her laughter
The breathtaking grace of her beauty

What once lifted him on angel’s wings
Now tortures with alarming vengeance
Over and again, he reminds himself
Each tear he sheds tarnishes
Takes away a bit of the beauty
The magic shared
But try as he might
It seems beyond his control
To remember
Without pain

Slowly, he swirls glass of honey-gold bourbon
The sound of the ice against glass
Whispering promises of temporary, albeit welcome, respite
He gives only momentary pause
At the striking similarity of its taste
To saltwater

Restless, drunken sleep
Brings naught but more anguish
Filled with torturous echoes of twisting metal
Shattering glass
The high tremble of her terror-filled voice
As she begged him to hold on

He did
For her

He does
For her children

But how he longs for the day she'll tell him…

It will be okay to let go...

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