Another Place
I walk upon the canvas
the gray and green elephants
walk around me.
Always in dimensional lights
of bright and then dim
the gathering of familiar faces
was all that I could see.
I look to see upstairs to find
and you were not there.
I continued down the stairs
the face of your adversary
standing fatter and pompous.
A distant call was hung into space
I heard the gritty sound of ignorance,
I heard the sound of disgrace.
I never saw but knew.
I asked this fatter one where,
where were you?
He turned to another and gave directions
I could no longer contain the pain,
as I beat upon his chest and
cried with years of disdain…
Copyrighted: CMM 2016
Yeats
Yeats in his epitah does say,
chiseled in stone of gray
“If there is one left to cry,
horseman pass me by.”
Trojan men, painted clone,
equestrian power, chiseled stone.
Oh, steed the poet’s cry,
witness to the final sigh.
The pen, the ride, united quest,
invites you near, as their guest.
But when the final blow does come,
please leave by in open run.
I will in spirit lope to see,
all the poets following me.
copyright: CMM
Eagle and Child Inkling 