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.

Bio:

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.