Monday, November 15, 2021

Poem: Love Lies Bleeding

 This is a re-write attempt of one of the 165 "Lost Poems," the ones I lost completely, both copies of each, along with copies of all but a couple of the 400-500 poems I've written.  That happened when I moved to North Carolina in 2008.  I'm not completely satisfied with the end of this poem, but in light of the craziness in our society these days, I decided I need to put this out there.  Maybe it will help someone a bit...

Love Lies Bleeding

In this time of division and strife
I sensed there must be something more to life
I walked out the front door, into the evening chill
No destination in mind, I ambled down the hill
The night was quiet, a welcome reprieve
I turned the corner, no intentions to leave
I soon found myself at the railroad tracks 
That divided my town, I thought to turn back
The tracks, I'd been told, should never be crossed
On the other side was "Them," the souls that were lost
Then I saw a young woman, and she beckoned to me
"I'll take you across, it's time that you see."
Her clothes dark and baggy, somehow I felt safe
With a smile in the shadows, I took the hand of the waif
"You've come tonight, burdened by a problem
You want to find the line between Us and Them"
I knew she was right, though I didn't know why
My hand in hers, I could no longer lie
I heard They lived over there, just beyond those trees
My mystery woman said, "Let's go and see"
 There were people alright, backyard, lots of food
They welcomed us in, quite friendly, not rude
After the meal, much laughter and talk
I asked where They lived, to continue our walk
Our host answered me, as she cut the peach pie
"They live in the next town," I knew she wouldn't lie
And that's how it went, with my companion and me
We kept finding Us, no Them did we see
We tried the next town, and then the next state
We made lots of friends, and ate plate after plate
Days turned to weeks, then months, then years
Traveling with my young friend, there was nothing to fear
After several years, there was no more need to roam
So we knew the time had come to go home
But things were much different by the old railroad tracks
Chain link and barbed wire, soldiers roaming in packs
My home was a war zone, a spotlight shown bright
"It's a couple of Them," cried a voice in the night
You don't understand, I tried to explain
I live right up there, I'm coming home again
I saw a bright flash, heard a rifle crack
My companion sagged, and reached for my back
I dropped to my knees, I saw blood on her coat
Her breathing got raspy, a lump formed in my throat
She reached for my chin, hands soft as a dove
"You were always safe with me..you see
My name is Love."

-The White Bear

I want to give big thanks to L.B. the Poet, and Reece Johnson, and the scene Rachel White pulled together at Designs, Vines, and Wines in Winston-Salem.  That got me writing poetry again.

The title from this poem comes from "This Thorny Rose," my favorite song by singer/songwriter Kerry Getz, out of Newport Beach California.  Check out her music, she's the most talented person I've ever met.

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