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Friday, May 15, 2015

Persevere

 
 
PERSEVERE

When intellects by force quiesce
And thoughts drift to leaden rest
Nothing under heaven is worth less
Than watching yourself become depressed.
Alleviate your self-made stress
By acknowledging that you are blessed.

Work does not define the whole of man,
Does not control how tall he stands
He can only do that which he can
Which is all his Creator demands
Since manhood's toil ever began -
The worth of his own two hands.

Look not to the past to find your worth,
Your yet to be is where it lies.
It has been this way since your birth,
Each new days brings it own surprise.
You are a unique gem in all the earth,
Gird your loins and lift your eyes.

Nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel
Perseverance is worth more than chance.
By tilling the soil with labor you reveal
What may have escaped a casual glance.
You can only reach a personal ideal
If your motivations you are willing to advance.





©2015 Christopher Reilley

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Wednesday, May 13, 2015

A Poet's Plea



A POET'S PLEA


What makes human beauty forever dance
In a heartbreaking sodden spiral?
How does my presence make itself felt
in a world so digitally viral?

If I pause a moment to take a fast breath
Will I then have more time to waste?
And what of my heart's one and only command
So devoutly and fervently chased?

I am connected to the red, red rose of desire
And lights on the screaming ambulance.
I am trying not to die, and happily, thus far
I continue by the grace of happenstance.

I am beautiful to see, but even unseen
I remain as I am, still beautiful.
For I have done all that is required of me,
I am nothing if not dutiful.

I spin my words, some frail, some bold
Some laced with power incandescent.
And because I have this chance to sing
My spirit remains effervescent.

But less talk of me, and more of you
Lest you think me indelibly rude.
I care what you think of what I have shared
Lest my meaning get lost or misconstrued.

Do you savor these words, do you read them with care
Or do you scan them with casual haste?
Do my thoughts convey form unto you
Or has it all gone terribly to waste?

Speak to me, dear reader, answer my plea
Let me know what you want me to write.
For if, for a moment, I thought I was wrong
I would move mountains to make thing all right.



©2015 Christopher Reilley

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Thursday, May 7, 2015

Poor Woman's Divorce




POOR WOMAN'S DIVORCE

She stood over him as he slept,
wondering if he would mind
if she crawled inside him,
consumed him,
Became him.

No pretense
or argument
would have stilled her thoughts,
no pleading or requests
would have stopped her attempts.
Warm and alive,
she could not
not touch him
rough and strong,
she had to have him.

She stood over him,
breathing the bitter gun oil.
Her hands stroked the barrel
like he had stroked himself,
once.

His stillness calmed her,
invited her
to take him.

She wanted to push herself inside of him
the way he had
to her. She would give him
no choice,
the way he had
to her.

She stood over him as he died,
wondering if he would mind
if she kept everything
he had given her
except the name.



©2014 Christopher Reilley
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