Poetry
(by Lauren Marie Ward)

 

Caught In The Act

 

"All the world's a stage," he said.  Do you think he had a clue?

Of how we all embrace our roles, convinced that they are true.

What if all dashing heroes…what if scoundrels in black…

Are just all sincere actors giving roles their best attack?

 

Creating awesome heights of passion…and the deep, black pits of pain…

Chaos and confusion, some will serve and others reign.

With their bloodlines bathed in glory, and those Bastards cloaked in shame...

All of them cast from equals, different parts were picked to tame.

 

Behold the plots of evil, and sweet stories of true hearts…

Simply faces of the flipping coin, cast of  dramatic arts.

We're all caught up in our characters, labyrinths and webs to weave,

Laughter, tears, horrendous fears, loves and regrets to grieve.

 

Is there danger if we comprehend that everything's the play?

Can we ever hope to foresee what confronts us every day?

And when the curtain finally falls, when strut and fret are through,

Can you imagine the cast party as we unmask me and you?

 

 A casting call in some dimension…a new show to open soon,

You simply must audition…act your act and sing your tune.

And with complete abandon sell yourself with all your heart.

And when the selling's over reap the harvest of your art.

  

 

Mistress

Of the

Dark

  

      Beauty, Grace and Elegance prowl about the room

Your will versus sciences, endless efforts loom.

Verdant glow from field of dreams beckons moth to flame.

The click, snap and clattering calling out your name.

 

Genie, Witch or Demon, Passion takes its toll,

 It anchors us to darkened rooms where we seek our Goal.

Ebony and ivory, craft and beauty of the tool…

No effort spared in welcoming initiates to pool.

 

Colors of the Rainbow and the Sphere of Alabaster,

Five minutes spent to learn it and a Lifetime not to master.

So, welcome all you devotees, perhaps the Gods will grin.

This Cruel Mistress welcomes you, but you must choose to Win.

  

 

Through The Looking Glass

  

Many faces of my incarnations

Stream in montage on gazed glass

Many faces, all seeming familiar

Testify many links to the past

 

On mirror I focus my vision

Illusion gazes right back through me

It becomes clear that I'm more than the one

You see when you think you see me.

 

We all face a struggle to quite comprehend

Subjective reality,

Or just how compelling it is to explore

Into that so much harder to see.

 

The body, a shining soul vessel

One of so many endured

Each life a new education

A drama to which we're allured.

 

Veiled are the many so mired in doubt….

Declaring this riddles and dreams,

 One heart is suggesting sincerely

Our reality's not what it seems.

 

 

Quantum Radio

  

Our world's a state of mind,

 my friend.

The finest minds agree.

Examined in the sub-atomic,

There's no "there" there, you see.

 

If God hath thought the universe,

And we, reflections be

Then our thoughts must be awesome things,

The finest minds agree.

 

Your thoughts, they have a frequency

They stream through time and space.

As much of all reality

As everywhere or any place.

 

What creation shall ensue today,

Sweet deities of dust?

Elevation? Evolution?

Or will best played hands go bust?

 

It's in mind's eye we're crafted,

We choose which shapes to shift.

Becoming beasts to bear our burdens,

Finding ways to waste our gift.

 

"What do you expect?" You cry,

"We only humans be!"

Therein lies the conundrum,

There's more to us, you see.

 

You and me and mountainside,

Just bits of energy,

Empowered by a fathomless force…

The finest minds agree.

  

 

On Rare Occasion  

  

On Rare Occasion

 

There appears to us,

 Something precious, fascinating, thrilling

 

We worry…

 

If we look too closely – will it change?

 

If we grasp at it – will it flee?

 

If we yearn for it – will it withdraw?

 

If we pay no heed – will it wander off?

 

If we define it – will it be diminished?

 

On Rare Occasion

 

Something amazing appears to us.

As if in a dream.

 

We can only do our best.

We offer what we hope it may need.

 

We are thankful for the moments we know it.

It may last – it may fade – its nature cannot be understood.

 

It bows to no Master

 

It roams the realm of hearts and perils.

And exists while we believe in it…

 

Revealing the nature of all things Magical.

  

Copyright 2009, Lauren Marie Ward.  ©  All rights reserved.