Arts: Poetry
Purge Me
If I write and write and write
Pour my soul upon the page
Will it per chance nullify the rage?
Do I fear to embrace?
Boiling lava in my soul.
Lava rises.
Spills o’er the mountain crest,
Destroys all life in its path.
Spews fury into the air.
Heavy gases of poison.
Gases dissipate
Lava cools
Feeds the soil
Mineral rich
New life birthed
A process
A purge
If I ride this river of rage
choose to not suppress
nor spew on those surrounding me.
Allow the river flow,
spill o’er the crest of my soul
its path upon the page,
dissipate then cool...
Will new life be birthed?
purge me
~Carol Welch
February 26, 2007
In the Fishbowl
In a fishbowl
I bump the glass
trying to swim
beyond the transparent barrier.
To survive beyond
I need a new design,
different equipment
from my gill-oxygenated carrier.
My guppy eyes stare
wondering, pondering.
How would it feel
to breathe that air?
I shrug
Swimming back to my castle I play awhile
among the faux coral and seaweed.
I ascend upon sprinkled kelp to feed,
then settle again with a contented smile.
...tap...tap...tap...
Back at the edge with my guppy-eyed stare.
In a fishbowl
trying to swim beyond
the transparent barrier.
~Carol Welch
March 12, 2007
by Carol Welch
24 ICSA TODAY
Purge Me
If I write and write and write
Pour my soul upon the page
Will it per chance nullify the rage?
Do I fear to embrace?
Boiling lava in my soul.
Lava rises.
Spills o’er the mountain crest,
Destroys all life in its path.
Spews fury into the air.
Heavy gases of poison.
Gases dissipate
Lava cools
Feeds the soil
Mineral rich
New life birthed
A process
A purge
If I ride this river of rage
choose to not suppress
nor spew on those surrounding me.
Allow the river flow,
spill o’er the crest of my soul
its path upon the page,
dissipate then cool...
Will new life be birthed?
purge me
~Carol Welch
February 26, 2007
In the Fishbowl
In a fishbowl
I bump the glass
trying to swim
beyond the transparent barrier.
To survive beyond
I need a new design,
different equipment
from my gill-oxygenated carrier.
My guppy eyes stare
wondering, pondering.
How would it feel
to breathe that air?
I shrug
Swimming back to my castle I play awhile
among the faux coral and seaweed.
I ascend upon sprinkled kelp to feed,
then settle again with a contented smile.
...tap...tap...tap...
Back at the edge with my guppy-eyed stare.
In a fishbowl
trying to swim beyond
the transparent barrier.
~Carol Welch
March 12, 2007
by Carol Welch
24 ICSA TODAY
