No I Do Not Hear No

Do you say no to me?

By what right and who's authority?

Neither father nor mother are you to me.

How dare you say no to me?

I am free to go and to choose;

Free of shackles and ready to cut loose

The bonds that seek to bind and confuse.

No is a concept without meaning or use.

Are you by chance afraid of me?

Do you envy my pride and my sanity?

I have no time for such vanity

As I strive toward my destiny.

Away with such pettiness and trouble me no more.

Make way for me now as I push to the fore.

From a shy sparrow to eagle's height I soar;

Knowing the truth fills me with strength to my core.

Yes I can accept and yes I will dare

To move forward, fully capable and aware

Of the freshness and brightness that flows in the air.

I am consumed by the fire of wonder, unquenched by despair.

Now do you see why I do not hear no?

Take your fears and your doubts and go

Back to your halls and your dark places of woe.

I will not listen to you when you say no.

Copyright 1992

Darkness of Self

On the far side of nothing is a darkness

chased there by a dream,

and held fast by a vision of new love,

buoyed by a breath of nature and cast

upon the winds of nurturing fire,

faced by a bravery ne'er to be cowed.

Is dark denied dominion o'er self?

When shadows creep upon sunlit walk,

fear not the narrowing of light but

embrace the cool shade and know it.

Blackest night can ne'er penetrate lighted soul

with false dimness; only be self will

may unfettered darkness intrude.

But is dark denied dominion o'er self?

Pin pricks of star light blink and glisten

'gainst velvety smooth night shades,

measuring the either/or of decision.

To be in a field of shadow no lover;

is this to gain a say in love,

or to choose against joy in faithless pain?

Will dark be denied dominion o'er self?

Trueness to a dream exists more or less

in bodiless trails of thoughts in kind,

e'er in motion 'gainst deft deed.

Matched side by side in duty perpetual,

controlled in deed and decision by

necessities of the most noble of causes.

When is dark denied dominion o'er self?

On a cold day in hottest hell, fighting all

manner of foul demons of mind,

self-created, self-empowered, self-released;

only when love is accepted in respect for

it's own, as e'er was extended,

and a door forever slammed comes burst asunder.

Then is dark denied dominion o'er self.

Copyright 1992

My Abstract Muse

At the end of the journey lies the past,

marking time in a gentle rain.

Cause and effect hold the last layers of truth,

barring some from greater gain.

Lift up life's carpet

and spy more than discarded dust.

Reach beyond the cobwebs

and discover the bald edge of trust.

Seek the loose board in a white picket fence

and pry it forth with strong hands.

Climb through hell to a newer place;

accept its banner and try to stand.

Your ultimate goal may encompass much that is false,

yet more that is true.

Find your abstract muse;

choose the way that speaks and accept what is due.

In the cold peace of dawn

a gray fog rolls in,

And I can see a pale light

where before none has been.

Out of a measured silence comes a vision

of substance, unclear and malformed.

My untried muse speaks

and wishes her gates adorned.

So I search my deepest depths,

past knots of confusion and black fear;

beyond reason and knowledge to the eccentric,

past the rational to the queer.

Mu muse sends me to a far shore,

demanding the treasure there buried.

But I cannot seek it, for I am afraid.

There is more truth than I can carry.

My muse is relentless;

she knows no fear of ghosts nor of shadows.

She pushes me stronger, drives me;

leaves me no choice but to go.

She knows the shortness of life,

the futility of twisted, discarded ways.

A path left unexplored

is a regret to the end of days.

And then, within a pocket of dark memory, 

do I find the silent barrier.

It reaches out to me, and I to it,

through infinite swirling color.

Can I face these most intimate demons?

Will they let me be free at last?

I hearken to the abstract muse;

hear her sing and seek a peace with the past.

It is a long struggle,

filled with much pain and self-loathing.

But it is necessary to be rid of disgust,

as one discards useless clothing.

Finally my muse brings joy

and offers release from old haunts.

At last my mind can drift,

no longer prisoner to lonely thoughts.

To break such a chain

is not as simple as unlacing your shoe.

You must step free of your soul;

ignore all warnings and plunge through.

Seek your abstract muse to guide you.

Ask and she will show you a path.

But be certain that you wish it,

for she demands success or feeds you her wrath.

A thought is precious;

it requires searching before it fits upon the page.

The forming of true ideas is the province

of any mind allowed freely to graze.

Remember the abstract muse,

and leave a light burning if you care to return.

It helps to look backward,

if only to find strength to live and to learn.

Copyright 1992