A ¦¦¦¦¦¦ gets to be a friend --
Between its Ponderous face
And Ours -- a ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ express --
And in its narrow Eyes --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ look with gratitude
For the appointed Beam
It deal us -- ¦¦¦¦¦¦ as our food --
¦¦¦ hungered for -- the same --
We learn ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ the ¦¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦¦ answer to ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ a sound -- at first --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ --
When Memory was a Boy --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ --
The Posture of the Key
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ -- ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ of Liberty --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ --
Whose features -- Day and Night --
Are present to us -- ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ -- ¦¦¦¦¦ --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
The slow ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ -- Content
Too steep for ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
The Liberty we knew
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ like a Dream --
Too wide for any Night but Heaven --
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ -- indeed -- redeem --
(Blackout of A Prison gets to be a friend -- by Emily Dickinson)
Like the small bird in the garden tree
Its world full of startles, alarms, and fear
Its predators all around and ever present
The pulsing of the cat’s paw is always there
On the narrow human road of human fear
Satan’s demons and half humans are always near
Requiring constant vigilance to keep terrors at bay
From the shadows and darkness and death of the day
Angel’s and saint’s hearts always beat fast
Navigating the narrow road of fear
Listening and watching alert to all those who pass
Keeping God’s protective presence ever focused and clear
The river was slender, like mysteries ineffable,
Ineffable the lane where guilt takes hold,
Hold of his heart becoming as heavy as stone.
Stone was her past, engraved abysmal in skin,
Skin bore the veracity, though concealed within,
Within his pledges, sadness did mature.
Mature like a shadow, stretched in the darkness,
Darkness was a reflection rejecting the nimble,
Nimble of her purity, gone like the torrent.
Torrent had banks too adjacent
Adjacent for a body to slide easily
Easily to stretch for fear of hurt.
Poem by N. Mugisho
A side path suddenly clutches at me,
rekindling burnt-out time with memories
to raise this fleeting day like a flame.
?
Folded memories sting with age,
but grow like moss fed on longing,
crumbling softly into the parting day.
?
The fading alley blooms with remembered moments.
A Narrow Path—not made by Men—
Unfolds—beneath the Trees—
No Trowel laid—no Footstep pressed—
It opens—by Degrees—
The Clover parts—as if to bow—
The Fern—extends a Palm—
And every Pebble—seems to know—
A hush—profound as Psalm—
No Compass—need direct the Soul—
That finds this Pilgrims Way—
For Nature—keeps her Sabbath here—
While Worlds—go far astray—
I wander—where no Echo treads—
Save that of Brook—and Wren—
And bless—the Road—invisible—
Unbuilt—by Mortal Men—
On a shard stretched of incomprehensible narrow, tight and wide,
a silent strident laugh I often forbade-allowed myself,
it's the ordered chaos indescribable, the howling clang
of hermit tear struck in a shattered version,
habitual miracle of screaming silence, poor wealth,
fulfilled-unfulfilled love in the sweet cruel pain,
embalmed wound of your gentle-cruel smile, deep-smooth,
chasm full of filling, lady-lord, speak silently,
divinely mortal, thus unfulfilled-complete, mute song
of swan terribly gentle, of angel broken-whole,
white-black of the cursed one blessed in forgetting-remembrance...
I long without longing, dying alive, lucid foolish thoughts,
perpendicular parallel equations, humble pride of ladies
rubicund-pallid, prostituted icons holy-profaned,
fierce cold embraced I feel in ribs empty full,
our loves lonely-together, I have spring-summer
frozen-inflamed, satisfied hunger for warm winter,
autumns with dry rains of sleet falling upward,
that fly-frozen calm torrents toward fields
hermit-populated, our stars extinguished-lit,
sky-earth, living death from the empty-full mind,
your caress burning-cold, my life confirms-denies!
The Narrow Road
Walk the narrow road.
Keep life simple on your own.
Take time out to enjoy life.
Stay humble in delight.
A footpath on the sand.
In the dark, hold up the lamp.
Help others in need.
Walk through faithfully.
Don’t be a part of this world.
With guidance, don’t worry about tomorrow.
Don’t take life for granted.
Stay focused through ambition.
The river flows through us.
Be grateful, for it is just.
Valuables are meaningless in our lives.
You can’t take them with you when you die.
Weall carry many burdens.
Be open minded and listen.
Leave it all at the cross.
Seek all those who are lost.
Don’t complain about your troubles.
He understands through sorrow.
Be at peace in your life.
He waits for us in the sky.
My Choice
One road is rocky
with many holes.
The entrance gate is
narrow and few find it.
It is steep, with a
long climb.
A narrow path
with treacherous footing.
But the end is a place
of eternal rest, beauty and peace.
The other road is smooth
with no potholes.
The entrance gate is broad
and high and many find it.
The road is wide
no guard rails needed.
It is a flat road, so
legs never grow tired.
But the end is eternal pain, suffering
and torment.
It is easy to follow the crowd
and take the road most travelled.
But, I will change direction
and take the road less travelled.
Confined within the steep banks of a narrow mind
is a cryptic river where men stumble in and go blind
They construct reinforced dams that hold them back
from accepting the candid truth, white is not black
Like the slow-moving current of a trickling stream
their thoughts are clogged and clot like curdled cream
What chance do the recalcitrant ones have to accept
reality if they allow no vision of being circumspect
of taking fault and blame for having a closed mind?
These are the ignorant, the foolish ones aptly defined
as those destined to stagnate until they decompose
It's the subsequent end to the stubborn who oppose
a new premise or concept with which they don't agree
They rot inside prisons of conceit, a human tragedy
Mr Narrow Neck
Mr Narrow Neck inherited from
his ancestors a
bleeding
anus.
Beautiful drive through
Along a narrow highway
Shield with yellow leaves.
The path is narrow
I kick dirt toward the edges
Making it wider
When the roads are grand
yet your mind still will not pass
the toll was too expensive
it required a conscience
with some empathy
ignorance and evil
hold hands when they dance
to de humanize
partners in crimes
oh my! rape
the pinatas are dead
It started 76 years ago
The heart is a narrow pathway
Where emotions tread
Love, dread, pain, sorrow, and hatred
Journey towards heaven's gateway.
Like a two-way traffic lane
Vessels surf with joy and pain
Weathering storms and hurricanes
Yet tender care remains the same.
The heart is a narrow pathway
Not a big and free expressway.
Though it tempts one to drive freely
It warns against paths taken carelessly.
The heart is not an expressway
But a narrow, winding path—
Drive upon it safely.
It sinks into the marrow
Your redemption that was paid
The path was long and narrow
But worth the journey made
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