Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Scott Thomas Outlar- Two Poems

Prelude to a Reunion
My dreams are haunted
with distorted visions
of what you once were,
what you once said,
what you once stood for,
what you once meant to this world.
Those days are vanished
into the ethereal mists of an unknown realm –
somewhere that I cannot touch,
somewhere forsaken by life and the flight
of human drama, somewhere beyond
temporal concerns of flesh, bone and blood.

My memories are polluted
with ancient regrets
that run deep to the marrow of my being,
that dig down to the depths of my core,
that burrow in and stealthily lay waiting
for the most inopportune time to strike –
rising up with black claws,
razor sharp and spiked with cancer,
crashing into my weak mortality
with laughter from the Revelation Grave.

My life is half-baked
now that you have flown the coop
and left my mind in tatters,
ripped asunder and torn down to
the foundations – a house of cards
toppling in the vicious tornado you create
with your will-o’-the-wisp eerie
ghost vibrations; ghoulish behavior
that leaves grit in my teeth and grime
covering every intention I once had toward peace.

My heart beats with a little less enthusiasm –
more a chore than a vital organic process.
My eyes are caked with a blinding mess
of muddy illusions that make no sense
as I trudge through day-to-day events
and try to make out the signposts
that once flashed with neon translucent
brilliance, but now throb with pulses of infinite gray.
The world is a colder place now
with you no longer around to share the seasons.
My senses are dulled,
my feelings are numb,
my immunity has been weakened,
my muscles have atrophied –
my only solace is
that soon enough we will meet again.

Do Us Part
These horrors of death
that plague us
from the shadows
all our lives
slowly creep upon us,
strike us,
strip us,
soil us,
savage us,
suffocate us,
and silence us when we scream for help.
There is no let up.
There is no give and take.
It is all ripped away
one loved one at a time
from the beginning to the end.

Scott Thomas Outlar lives with an unquenchable fire ever burning in the core of his being. It's not such a bad thing - at least he stays warm in the Winter. He can be reached at 17Numa@gmail.com.

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