23 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Poem 046 It’s you
It’s you … my love, I’m thinkin of, a song that’s pure and true.
and when I awake, I always smile, cause in this world, I know … there’s you
23 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Poem 047 There is nothing to prevent a man
There is nothing to prevent a man, who cannot grasp a proof from accepting as a matter of faith,
the immovable point is that “I think” and as long as “I think”, I exist
yet this existence lies exposed, floating on a body of water that appears to have no edges
like a leaf that has fallen into the river, I wander lost in the turbulence of my own thoughts
because the way in which “I think”, isolates me, for I am unable to recognize true reality
except for the reality that I am confined to a road, a road that extends beyond my time and before my past
for I know not where it extends or begins
and the questions remain.
27 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Poem 048 A small badly lit room
A small badly lit room with no mirror holds a tapestry of where my secrets lie
Hell has followed my imagination and galloped into my sickness
Where its waves whisper terrible truths as they eat away at me and keep me from escaping
27 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Poem 049 In the depths of our garden
In the depths of our garden, love roots its way into those precious memories, dreams
one has forgotten dreamt
there upon life with a smile, it crept in unnoticed
How love grows …
I am yours and yours shall be, love, through all eternity
We arose to the morning dew, made diamonds by the sun magnifying the memories, of life
and there aligned to the vision
as the sands of life run, we’ve become one
How love grows …
I am yours and yours shall be, love, through all eternity
28 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Poem 050 Colors that tinges
Colors that tinges the clouds at sunset, gazed down onto nature’s naked loveliness
the butterfly, the soul, who turns to greet the tidings with a kiss
she dropped the corners of her apron and let the flowers run, a curiosity too strong to resist
whose head is turned by the sun
Like Cupid wounding himself, I awoken hidden seeds of lovers so entwined
the memories, the melodies, in this hour of my deepest need, you are in my mind
emerging from Daedalus’s labyrinth, where silence sits and shadows call,
your fingertips, your moistened lips, I find,
and in your passion I will fall
How sweet it is, the downward stream, from heavenly harmony
the tranquil landscape, through which it flows, the waters washed away and set my soul free
as if Clotho was spinning faster than Lachesis could measurer, beyond her shears,
immortality I could see, not minutes days or years
