Sarah Flanigan - Poetry Simply Put

Like a warrior
he stand tall and brave
as a soldier
he goes into battle
sure of his weapons
sure of himself.
Always with a
smile at his lips
a sparkle in his eye.

He places his helmet
raises shield
and goes happily
to face competitor and foe.
And wins…
Though bruised and bloodied
His heart has wings
and it soars
toward the heavens.

The people cheer
for having been saved.
In his path
flowers are strewn
Hossannas sung
gifts are lain.

So clear in purpose
so high in ideals is he
that they will follow him
into battle
and aye, even die for him.

On certain mornings
he has risen
to see the sun shining
making golden orbs upon
the water.
He has seen the
rainbow fish
laying at the cool bottom.
He has put on
the armor,
the dress of battle…

He has looked toward
the lake
and toward the boyhood memories.
Of the maiden
he thinks
that waits for him
ever patient
ever true.

He thinks of the son
they have not yet made
that should now
be a tall shoot of a boy.
He looks upon
the scars of his body
still young
still strong.

He thinks what fool
is he
to go on this way.
Remove his armour
he does not.
Turn his back
close his mind
he will not.

As he looks out
as he sees these things
he sees also
what life would be
for all those he loves
and loves not.
Were it not for him
were it not for his
strength
his courage
his tenacity.

So…
as a warrior
who stands tall and brave
as a soldier
he goes into battle.
Sure of his cause
sure of his purpose.
Always with a smile
at his lips
and a light in
his eye.

For there still lie dragons
to slain
children to be protected
battles to be fought
and wars to be won.
And it is he
who has stood for
them all.

It is he
that carries the weight
so well upon his shoulders.
He who laughs
at the danger
and evil…
He has given us
pride in ourselves
our world
our ways.
Given us hope
in our future.

And if ever he has wept
we have not known.
If ever he was hurt
we were not told.
If ever he has wanted to turn away
it has been a secret
never uttered.

I am sure
he has wept
and bled and pained
and has longed for
the life of a normal man -
an ordinary man.

As a leader
he has stood
among weaker men
and smiled.
And with that smile
given strength.
Made us think
we too are strong…

For indeed
with him we are
And shall always be.

Copyright 2006

As two soldiers
we have fought
shoulder to shoulder
the bond between us
too strong
to be broken
by word or weapon.

Together we have won
battles of this life
and other lives…
With each new victory
we have celebrated.

Toward each new battle
we have marched.
Whistling down the road
dressed in tatters
fresh with scars
confience never dimmed.

Certain we are, in one another.
You are my shield
as I am yours.
My life you have
for the asking.

For what is life
if not to be given
to one who knows the
secrets of your soul?
What is ship
without sail?
What is earth without
sun?
What is life
without purpose?

It is what I am
without you…
It is empty and dark.
It is a game lost
before begun.

And if there is a God
I pray
that He might
give blessing
to our pact
of eternal devotion and trust.
I pray that we might
always be there
for one another.

To face
each new battle
each new barrier
that crosses the path
and throws shadow on
our purpose.

Together
Life is a Game
we can face
with a smile
and a laugh.

Copyright 2006

Weave your merry spell
Magician!
Send it far
and wide
across this land.
Give back to the people
its magic.
Your magic.

Send it to
the darkest corner
deepest caves.
The lonliest, saddest places.
Bring it forth.
Stir it up well
in your black kettle.
Til it bubbles and brims
spills
over the hopelessness of
this land’s people.

Let it give wings
to the heaviest of hearts
and sorriest of souls.
Let it make again
the music which once abounded.
But is now
a faint echo to those of us
who remember.

Oh Magician
grow bigger
grow stronger.
Send your magic dust
to cover every part
every being.
Let babies be born again
into a world
of form and beauty.
Let them smile with
their first sight of it.

Let us not
the handful of artisans
left on this dusty rock
toil any longer
without hope
or promise.
Make us strong with
your web of knowledge
and light.

Let us help to
lead them out
of the caves of blindness.
Open their eyes
that they might see.
The wonder that is the Game.
The joy that is Life.

Copyright 2006

It is the longest
of roads we have traveled.
The highest of mountains
we have climbed.
To find
on the other side
lies more road
longer than the first.
Mountains
higher still.

In the valleys we
have stayed
In our homes
made of straw and sticks.
Fearing always
the wrath of any monster’s war.
That any creature
strong and evil
will swoop breathing fire.
And send us to scatter and hide.
Grimmacing always
as we look to the sky.
Not seeing the sun
but the shadow of the
storm certain to come.

Convinced we have become
of impending doom…
That we call it forth
by our actions.
Yet push it away
with our prayers.
Our secret dreams
and deepest wishes
we have buried.
And no longer know them.

With them
are buried the answers.
We look to another
Always a god
who has himself become
a monster of sorts.
Waiting to strike us
down
if we should disobey.

We think we are apart
from one another.
Convinced there are no others
who too, think or see these things.
Helpless are we
to make a change.

The greatest painter
toils in the fields
until his hands are
useless to brush and canvas.
The finest musician
dare not sing to
his own child.
His voice cracked from disuse.
The most graceful dancer
a mother of ten.
Body stretched and used up
as a disgard bow string.
The deepest thinker
now in the pub
floating in drunken stupor.
Using wit to gain only another ale.

Our hopes have been murdered.
Our decency stripped away.
And we
once brothers
now fierce competitors and foe.
Is there no end to this madness?
It is destiny
It is fate
I have heard them say.
It is but our lot in life.

But yeah
come listen to me.
Hear this
that hope may be recovered.
I have seen a glimmer.
Shining there at the
end of the tunnel.
I have heard an echo
of the music
we once knew and sung proud.
I have seen the beauty and grace!
Follow me!
The Magician is come.
I know the way.

Copyright 2006

Once we were brothers
and it mattered not
in what shell we were held.
Matter not, did our faiths,
our colours
of the homes in which we
lived.

Our children shared
their voices in song
and lent their hands
in toil and in chore.
Once we held dear
one another
and fought side
by side.
For our common purpose
mutural priveledge and right.

We did not care
from when we came
and to where we would go.
Our hands joined
and made circle around the world.

Brought together our
hands we did
and made music heard.

Together we had journeyed
together, sentenced to
this outland.
It was by the joining
of hands and hearts
that we survived.

We landed safe and strong.
To the hills
some took
to the sea, to the sand
to the prairies and plains
went others.
All agreeing to
smile warm
when next we met.

But the wars came
and made us bitter.
Our children died
and suffered they did
by the hands of a neighbor.
Hatred was bred
and passed down
as a valuable is
to the generations.
And as it was their duty
they carried the seed
casting it far and wide across the land
so that it would grow and flourish.

Grow it did.
Flourish it did.
Until the world was
but a thick jungle of it.
Only the strong survived it.
Until
it was every man for himself
and his.

Sharing was a fond memory
a secret whispered on the wind
and heard only by small children.
The world that once shone
with common purpose
and mutual strength
began its decline and decay.

Shaken with thunder
blistered with drought
drowned in water
it was.
And on the islands
that emerged from the murky depth
we stayed.
Making smaller groups
forming separate purpose.

In the night
I have heard the cries
of all men.
And in a child’s eyes
I have seen the wonder
we once knew.
I have seen the light
of hope in those eyes.
And it is for that
child’s eyes
I have seen the answers.
I have seen the salvation
of us all.

Lacking luster and light.
Stoop-shouldered and furrowed brow
has been the sight of us.
But for that child’s eyes.
For it is the future
that shone there.
The promise of tomorrow.
Of a second chance…

I beckon you out of the flame
and fire
up to the earth.
Where the air is but
fresh and sweet.
The breeze is a cool comfort.

Join we must again
all hands
all colors
of all trade and walks
and make circle around the world.
Bring back to our eyes
the light that shines bright
in the eyes of our children.

To send them off
in their mission
their journey
to the making of the future.

Copyright 2006

I gave them my pledge
I agreed to the oath
I went on my missions
and did what they told me.

Right or wrong.
I did as I was told.

Many a rock I sat upon.
Barron lands
my eyes did come to know.
Every stretch of unwanted
black, desert space
had come to be
my stations
my posts.

Where the sun never shone.
Where no sun there was.
On fond thoughts
of warmth and fresh air
I did live.
Sweet memories
of friends
and good talk.

I sighed.
I shrugged.
I had given my pledge
taken my vows.
A good soldier was I,
A good officer I was.

I questioned nothing.
Year after year
I reported for duty.

The dreams that
had moved me when a boy
the hopes
the images that
leapt and sprang
from my mind
and my heart.
Were but that - dreams.

For the uniform
had not made me
braver still.
Had not bestowed
the courage
or strength I sought.
It had given only
the answers to
the lines in my father’s face
and the worry in my
mother’s eyes.

I inherited
the lonliness of my uniform
separated from all
that was precious to me.

In the War for Freedom
I planted the Flag.
Watching the dying
faces of my friends
hearing the cries
of life’s last breath.
With each
my heart became heavier
my fear stronger.

I was lost
I was tired.
My purpose
long forgotten.
My deeds less pure
my actions more human.
Each day
a nothing.
No tears left
only a dull ache.

In the night
I saw a shining!
it shone ever more
in my approach.
I sped toward the light
my heart lifted
my hopes rekindled.

More brilliant it became
as we drew closer
So sure was I…
so certain, so right…

The impact
the explosion
the screams of my crew
were swallowed…

The next thing
I knew
I was a small girl
sing songs
no one seemed to know.

copyright 2006

If beggars chose
to play the king
and shed their ragged
robes

And walked the Earth
with heads held high
that men might see their
souls

Their hollow eyes
would glisten bright
with newfound strength and
pride

Their crooked bodies
would stand upright
and reason not
to hide

The heavens then would open
and send down
hymns of love
And give anew
a life to those
who sought the velvet
glove…

But beggars do not
choose a role
of kings or creatures
great

They only ask
with open heart
to find a sweeter
fate.

© 2006