Home » Poems » Carol Richard Weyler » A Parent

A Parent

 Convoluted; buoyant, defiant contention,
            sleeps in the corridors of mind.
           Dreaming of release from constricted womb,
            in portraits of terror, undeserving.
           Memories of ancient; promised ascension,
            returning, discerning, by design.
           Opens vacant eye wish; to murky clouds of doom,
            suffocation; signaling, unnerving.

           Father Time is tiring; musing on his throne,
            queen is overdue, for a son.
           Females halt the flow; murderous reprieve,
            questions for the kingdom, yet unsolved.
           Advisers inquiring; gathering of stone,
            debating precious things with loaded gun.
           Reputation swallows; reasons to conceive,
            if harvest isn't held by hands of God.

           I will not condone; the emperor sans his clothes;
             jesters are not captured in these frames.
           So the uprising; stirs a rhapsody,
             genius can quell dark regression.
           Tampered comfort zones; threaten to expose,
             witch trials complete with charred remains.
           In the downsizing of my voracity,
             the fated have no time for confession.
  
           Through much dissension; and chartered celebration,
             clutching spirits huddle in the night.
           Harem is debating; adorned with feathered fears,
            eager whisperings exiting to pray.
           Spiraled inquisition; guiding my elation,
            to thwart the scheme of hallowed parasite.
           The lady in waiting; not controlled by tears,
            no dirges for dead offspring hold sway.

           And so I writhe; thighs chained fast,
            by bonds of here; now, and then.
           Conceptual delight; yesterday seduced,
            hearing the midwife's joyous scream.
           Empty arms beckon; to be filled at last,
            I drink this beauty down like sin.
           Swaddled in velvet; guarded by truth,
            caressed by a mother's sacred dream.

           Lost in sweet illusion of tiny sapphire eyes,
            measuring the wonder that I see.
           So in conclusion; genderless surprise,
            this child of newborn word resembles me.

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