Saturday, July 28, 2012

Maybe Someday

To be seen; without the blinding glare
That distorts the obvious.

To be heard; without the echoes
That consume what is said.

To be felt without the film
That separates me from them.

To be tasted, truly taste;
For my entire earthiness.

To be smelled distinctly;
A smell that is wholly me

…Maybe someday…..

©Naan Pocen

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Doves On Distant Oaks

People waiting for their time to change
Will rise up to things terrible and strange
The beast in every man shocks and shames
And men hide behind masks, hoping to escape blame.
Life displays its wits in senseless practical jokes
And every furrow must be plowed under the burden of yokes
And till the thunder balls begin to fall
No one ever heeds the warning call
Of a Dove On Distant Oaks.

You learn to hold onto your doubts
But you are careful not to let your light burn out
You’ve seen people reach for the skies
With nothing but the light of a distant star in their eyes
The memory of them is now but a fossil in a rock
Clouded over by Time’s vapors and choking smoke
But for every bleached bone on the burning sand
A cry is heard all over the land
Of a Dove On Distant Oaks.

Life displays its wits in senseless practical jokes
And every furrow must be plowed under the burden of yokes
And till the thunder balls begin to fall
No one ever heeds the warning call
Of a Dove On Distant Oaks.

©Naan Pocen

Friday, July 20, 2012

BALANCE

Squinted eyes stare in exchange,
Smiles roam faintly across lips,
Hearts beat and rhythms lost,
Then found again.

Familiarity is cozy and strange
Its comfort betrays chips
Of verity that eludes the most,
A soul it can drain.

Contentment can subtly derange,
The boldest mind it can eclipse,
Until a soul is but a ghost;
A psyche slain.

To revive, I simply rearrange,
Unplanned, unintended slips;
The echo of repeated riposte,
All for calm to remain.

©Naan Pocen