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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
I slipped helplessly from womb
To dresser drawer – a cradle
That opened and shut like a tomb
Held my cries
Instead of arms
Closed my eyes
With Red Riding Hood lies.
Embryo of spiritual evolution
Caught between shelves of confusion
Hungry child
With tongue of fire
Born of anguished desire
With Mother Hubbard defiled.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
I walk on the beach approaching night,
while sunset slumbers awaiting my sight
upon its descent to breech twilight.
The half-breed child of night and day,
is slowly dying and slipping away,
turning golden hue to grey.
Night has arrived, I turn my eye,
back to the moment just passed by,
disappearing into a constant sky.
Tomorrow will come, the sun will rise,
and I will walk toward its demise,
a bit more tired...a bit more wise.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
The snow fell on bloody ground
turning the white to red, eating the silent
flakes till they disappeared into red dust.
The hand lay still...hopelessly bound
in death. Warm red snow was not meant
to melt and cover white life with lust.
No breath melted the blanket of white
dancing playfully on the mother's son
who lay coldly quiet 'neath nature's cover.
He had wanted to stay...not feel the splice
of war...taking him beyond the red sun
atop the earth where the hawks hover.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
Lurking in my darkened mind, hatred strains
for freedom...incarcerated by sanity...ever
seething, bleeding, clawing at chains,
locked by my hand. It will sever
my soul if the key
escapes from me.
Nestled in my hidden eye, my heart cries
with such pain...adorned in white...hushed,
deep, unseen, cringing from all eyes,
protected by my wrath. It will be crushed
by Christ if I expose
myself to the murderous blow.
I walk upon a virgin sea, dawn's light
upon my hair, the breeze my breath,
the sun my smile, the sands my treasure, God my might,
the rain, my tears...life my death.
I know not me.
I know not Thee.
Patricia Langston-Moran
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2009
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
I am gazing - out the window,
And I see an Ivy, climbing to the sky,
I see Humanity walking by,
My window,
I don't see love.
I see seeds upon the ground - dead.
Seeds of justice.
I see a child holding ragged little arms up
to Mother,
and another,
Walking in proud hatred.
I see love passing by, walking into darkness
Of death, awaiting in time.
Aged weariness just befell my eye...beaten...
Hoping for elation of death.
Walk on...walk on.
I see a dog in playful ignorance,
Loving the Master, and the Master
In wisdom, painfully loving back.
I await eve- and night falls, entering my door -
I wonder...tomorrow will I see more...
From my window?
Patricia Langston-Moran
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2009
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
GIVE ME TIME
I have tears to be shed...
Books to be read...
Words to be said...
I love you.
I have a life to live...
and love to give...
I miss you.
I have memories to leave...
Moments to grieve...
And time to believe...
That you once loved me.
I have a horizon to climb...
Only moments of time...
to learn to love - me
Wait for me to do this
Don't leave me yet,
If you care.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2009
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
The house stands mute, broken by years...
Windows stare through jagged glass.
Empty as the eyes of death.
Silent void...echoing joy..patient tears,
reach out in memory each time I pass
the gaping door which has no breath.
A rusted lamp-post leans toward Earth...
listening for approaching sound,
to light the darkness once more.
Quiet hush...resounding mirth,
touch my step upon the ground,
and beckon me in, to the shattered house.
Crushed boards once held dancing feet...
laughter clings to crumbled stones,
and tears strain the silent rooms.
Scattered remnants of life replete,
lie still as whitened desert bones,
and words spoken...here entombed.
I gaze upon torn and tattered walls...
Time pauses, and whispers soft to me
of life blossomed rich in moments gone.
Of a woman whose memory recalls
the beauty of love...and eternity...
mirrored in a rose upon the lawn.
House so sad, your youth abounds,
neath fallen grace, and buried sounds.
I hear your song in distant night,
and stand before your silent sight.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
I stood quiet, regal...in timeless innocence,
arms touching the sky, bent in the wind.
Sun caressed my limbs...my life was dense
and sheltered by Nature...never to end.
I nestled birds close to my breast,
shaded the earth...with gentle care.
Rain bathed my limbs...I was caressed
by night, and I knew no despair.
Footsteps approached my ageless shade,
a man and woman...I thought to rest.
Sun sparkled upon the shining blade,
the approaching death of my bequest.
The blow was struck deep to my heart,
seeking to take my soul and breath,
and strike me down...I would depart
life...to the darkness of eternal death.
I stood hard against the angry blows,
and sought to know the reason why,
my gentle life had gathered foes,
who held desire to watch me die.
I did not go gently into the dark demise,
alone, unloved, without pain and fear,
for standing by, the woman's eyes,
held sorrow, and a soft sweet tear.
Patricia Langston-Moran
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
DEATH OF MY MOTHER
As I sat upon the ground that night,
Rain and tears streaming on my fright,
My mother was killed within my sight.
I turned to stone, she fell dead,
The mud around her turned to red,
Her hair flowed about her head –
And me.
I dreamed last night and I could see,
A shroud of death is covering me,
Born from the sadness of memory.
In the uncharted corner of my mind,
Is a child I cannot seem to find,
Lurking between shadows – hiding behind.
Me.
In the blessed relief of the coming dawn,
I know the child will then be gone,
Back to the forest like a fleeting fawn.
Then again, with the coming night,
Arise and stand within my sight,
And return the horror and the fright,
Of me.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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Patricia Langston-Moran Poem
Intricate webs of geometrical lines,
Invisible cord between soul and mind,
Stretched rigid and wearily taut.
Time...searches cloistered designs
Of snowflake precision...seeking to find
Eternity...God's moment of thought.
Astronomical fingers reach to infinity,
Plunging through layers of time and dust,
From Genesis to Revelation, birth to tomb...
Revealing the reality of Divinity,
Or Time's deception tainted by rust,
Relativity. the fruit of the womb.
Time stands before us...torn pages
Painfully constructed...a microscope
Hovering over the Creation of Earth and sky.
A play on a universe of stages
Passes fleetingly through Man's hope.
Knowledge...born of the animal cry.
Copyright © Patricia Langston-Moran | Year Posted 2008
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