Poetry: Symbol Of Power

In my veiled years
Carrying this broken chest,
I have felt like the faint residue
Of dried rain.

Forgotten insignificance.

A blond carcass
Beneath societies march
Of expectations
And youthful slaughter.

In light discovered
I walk inward,
Through a restricting mucous
Of life's layers,
And with each love breath
Into surrender,
Where pulses,
MY SYMBOL OF POWER.

Poetry: Childhood Love and First Kisses.....Part 2

I rub my eyes
stepping into dawn.
mornings silence erupts,
as lethargic bees buzz,
spellbound by life’s
monotonous labor,
dancing like golden flakes
cascaded against a rising giant.

In the shadowed recesses
of the farm yard,
beyond the ritual sounds,
of no brain roosters
cock-a-doodling.
Trapped within a
forest of moss,
roots bore half in,
half out of dirt,
a golden bosom bearing
tree, looms above the
fantastical happenings of life.

A crippled farm house,
splattered with worn boards
dappled by yellow paint,
slumbers within its
droopy tendril womb.
Its sides caressed
by beaming daisies,
swaying sensually
to and fro,
for a song
of great rapture.

She appeared
like a drifting blossom,
hair streaked by the
Devils fiery brush
across an oasis
of winter Oak.

Her silky hand
gripped my own,
pulling me into unknown.
My heart fluttered,
a butterflies dance
across freedom skies,
cast within a net
of temptation.
I resisted not.

The mouth of the barn
expanded and swallowed us
as she led me in.
Bullets of light
streaked through
ruptured walls,
illuminating a half latter,
which leaned itself
against a drooping
shelf,
strained by piles
of straw.

Cautious of non-faltering
steps, I followed
my goddess up.
Finding comfort
atop the feathery straw,
I sat next to her
and met her
between eyes.

A young innocence
was born
as our virgin lips
collapsed into one another,
awaiting what seemed
a lifetime.
A sensation,
so alien enveloped me,
and burned a memory
of childhood love
and first kisses……