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One hand

 

  reaches into the coppice

 

    of the climb becoming a part of

 

         snarled quest of upward journey, footing

 

                         finding leverage on levels first known.  The maladriotness

 

                                                                                    of my steps pull and

 

                                                                                                          slip

                                                                           

                                                                                    into the summit of life’s challenges,

 

                                                                                      I sit, basking in the victory not even            

 

                                                                                                            mine.

 

copyright:  CMM

All Hallow’s Eve

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Is the night of ghost and goblins
near as frightful as the days.
coming from the battled streets,
crying from the warriors haze.
Crisp the humid fallen golden,
tis moist and wetting dew.
Comes the flowing ghost and goblins
hallooing from behind the stew.
Yet the truth be more the scarier
dying souls of sand pit graves.
Hence we need to be more mindful
battling through mayhem waves.
Yes this season of the Hallow,
souls and saints remembered here.
While the innocent still living,
live within the streets of fear.
Pray the saints we beckon this,
a night of memory, night of fright.
Soon the only horror faced,
is just the tales of all hallows night.

copyrighted: 2004 CMM

A Halloween Poem

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Glittering glass with prisms light,
guide me in through the passage night.
Colors cut beneath my feet,
the wounding pieces make me weep.
Yet I can’t seem to get off this path
made of sharpness, hurtful glass.
Flooding rivers come the flow,
venting feelings, bleeding so.
Days of light bring you there again,
while the nights leave the scars to mend.
Glittering glass my footing wretched,
dreams are lost in whimsy fetch.
Night of imagination once a dream,
a nightmare now and I begin to scream.
Path of destiny, path of light
pulls me in this lost fore night…
copyrighted  2005 CMM

Phone Call

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Her voice comes across the phone

clanging as a metal barb against a fence.

One word answers with

rushing winds made of sighs

blowing over the phone.

Her thoughts expressed with words like a

runaway train, derailing before

it makes sense.

Falling into an abyss of anger

she loses grips of resentment

held trapped in her mind and

locked behind doors of valium

and antidepressants .

Clanging, jutting, she falls into

a repetition of words without thoughts;

the monotonous voice of insanity.

©   CMM  2012