Into The Fire

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Into The Fire Page 2

by Pauline Edwards

one ever dreamed this could ever be,

  and yet here we are losing our reality.

  Falling so silently, people in the street

  stopped immobilized, paralyzed with disbelief.

  No one ever dreamed this could ever be,

  and yet here we are redefining what is human.

  Run. You can run,

  but you’ll only come right back around.

  Latent feelings rise; instincts mobilize.

  Shattered on the ground, an old illusion

  leaves us now.

  No one ever dreamed this could ever be,

  and yet here we are: there’s more to life than

  cells and drones, sticks and stones, skies and domes...

  Run. You can run,

  but you’ll only come right back around.

  Get on Get off

  I lost my mind I just couldn’t find it

  I was alive but only through habit.

  I couldn’t see into the future

  couldn’t bring my brain to remember.

  Get on/Get off

  Well it was there all along I just couldn’t find it.

  Hiding in the walls of my mind, reviving.

  Hide and go seek, follow the white rabbit

  and you’ll never never, never never find your way back.

  Get on/Get off

  I live my life with no regretting,

  so if I hurt your feelings, well forgive and forget it.

  We’re not here for a long time, so try not to sweat it

  because when this ride is over, you can start it all again.

  Get on/Get off

  Contents

  Behind the Veil

  I made a magic potion and it’s gonna make me rich.

  Not rich as in with money, but rich in happiness.

  I made it out of water and then I said a prayer.

  I drank it down real thirsty; I expect magic everywhere.

  Make believe that you are famous;

  make believe you cannot fail;

  make your magic potion, then

  meet me behind the veil.

  I made a magic potion to see you in my dreams.

  I always see you in the daytime

  but you never notice me.

  As of today there is no question;

  take a good look at this face.

  When the sandman comes to get you,

  there will be no more escape.

  I made a potion and it’s gonna make me rich.

  I made a potion and it’s gonna make me rich.

  I made a potion and it’s gonna make me rich.

  Turning Thirty

  The day I turned 30

  my legs turned to cheese.

  My butt dropped 3 inches

  the first time I sneezed.

  Crows took up nest

  at the corner of my eyes

  and canyons appeared

  every time that I smiled.

  No one can mistake me now

  for a little girl.

  Here is a woman

  come into the world.

  Centipede

  Clunkity Clunk goes this hunk down a chunk of dirt.

  One hundred legs work in groups and

  move forward in waves from back to front.

  Hard shell shines brown in the sun

  as one hundred legs march on

  amongst dead leaves and leather bound feet.

  Just watch how the sandals will make way for him:

  such a burden to bare so potent a venom.

  Justine

  I’ve known Justine since 1983.

  Her eyes are on fire - she doesn’t miss a beat.

  We’ve been through love,

  we’ve been through family.

  We’ve been through it all,

  me and my friend Justine.

  Oh some people hear the call

  and answer back with everything they’ve got.

  Oh some people have to fight

  to hold on to love, to hold on to life.

  Then some people have got it all

  and they let it slip away before they

  know what’s gone.

  But not my friend Justine.

  She stands for everything.

  She’s marched for trees and for whales,

  and for democracy.

  Her smoldering eyes remember

  everything they’ve read.

  She’ll tell you no lies until the day she’s dead.

  Infectious and clean, she’ll leave you feeling good.

  Oh my friend Justine has so much more to give.

  Her children are flames,

  they’re dancing in the streets.

  Some day when she’s gone

  I’ll miss her endlessly.

  If one hundred years could bring us to Mars,

  and send robots to space way out beyond the stars,

  why can’t we seem to solve our physical problems,

  Or slow the passage of time, or forever be lovers?

  Star Gazer

  Star gazer

  you lucky boy.

  Star gazer,

  from a time long ago.

  How many do you see?

  star gazer

  save a wish for me.

   

  When all the lights

  go down

  take a trip to the roof,

  rest your head in your palms

  watch the stars coming out.

   

  Star gazer

  you lucky boy.

  Star gazer

  from a time long ago.

  How many stars can you see?

  Star gazer,

  save a wish for me.

   

  Star gazer,

  save a wish for me.

   

  You can name

  the constellations

  when the season is right.

  Can find your own

  direction,

  just wait for twilight.

   

  Oh save some

  darkness in the night

  for the star gazers.

  For it’s the star gazers

  who bring our dreams

  into light.

  Walking On My Toes

  All the things I left behind

  I used to feel were so important.

  Now I feel so light, and all I need,

  all I need is your love.

  A bag of woes I used to carry.

  It dragged me down; my feet were so heavy.

  But now I’m walking on my toes;

  my heart is singing and it glows.

  All because I let it go

  and I’m not gonna worry anymore.

  Held a secret locked in my heart,

  so afraid of losing his trust,

  but I made a choice and I let it go:

  if you love someone you gotta let them know.

  Season of Rain

  They fall simultaneous,

  one by one, at every conceivable interval,

  on every inch of land, every blade of grass,

  every wide-brimmed cap.

  Colorless, odorless, flavorless gas forms in the sky

  into what we call clouds.

  Up there in heaven they don’t look as wet

  as all these big puddles would seem to suggest.

  Inside, the noise is a constant ratt-a-tatt-tatt.

  Through a widow’s tears: two birds fly back to their nest.

  Changing Winds

  Tempered by the changing winds,

  I am broken and made whole again.

  Over and over again,

  I suture my heart,

  strengthen the mend.

  And I will love again.

  I will love again.

  I will love again.

  As the world turns

  time heals all wounds.

  In the end,

  time heals all wounds my friend.

>   As we grow old my friend,

  the winds blow on my friend.

  Contents

  Capricorn Moon

  He waited for her there

  on the star-lit trestle,

  dangling legs above rushing river waters.

  She would return on schedule

  with glowing face round and freckled;

  summer dress down to her ankles,

  flowing against her figure,

  like rushing river waters

  curving around a stone.

  Always at midnight, never before,

  they meet there on the trestle

  above rushing river waters

  when the moon’s in Capricorn.

  Brandon’s Poem

  You and I watched the stars

  come out from inside.

  We pretended;

  Lying on the floor, said nothing.

  More than ten years of friendship

  is between us and breaking that is my worst fear.

  So we just stared at the ceiling

  counting stars that weren’t there.

  But you and I both observed that

  if we were to have been outside,

  we would have seen them.

  White

  Are you ready to tell me your secrets?

  We can walk to the estuary,

  Feed them to the swans. They will be safe,

  Gliding over the water, carried in the gut.

  I’ll come clean too, and we’ll fill the birds up.

  What if our lies sink like stones?

  Let them fall on each other.

  Let them fall on each other and make a tomb

  of white feathers, so many stones have we thrown.

  But, if our words aren’t too heavy,

  and our secrets not too many,

  at sunset they’ll be carried

  with the white fowls, atoned.

  Point?

  Who grows next to me must be my brother;

  who sits beside me in time could uncover a hidden face: alien race.

  Family lines the path faced:

  two paths, never crossing, may start and split apart at birth.

  Took proximity for likeness, interest for kindness.

  When temporarily blind, it’s best to let the heart guide.

  Archaic Memories

  Dreams decades old still surface to remind me

  of lessons learned long ago; in most of them, I’m drowning.

  In sleep-time I learned to be swept away by waves big like tsunamis.

  I taught myself how to breathe if water should surround me.

  I don’t dream of drowning anymore. I only dream of swimming.

  But the difference between sleep and wake is only in believing.

  Totem

  I see my totem pole,

  a stack of funny faces,

  tongues out, mouths round

  like pass a dutchie to the left hand side,

  or hoot hooting like an owl,

  or something more foul.

  Woody, with exposed skin,

  paint-peeling, slightly leaning,

  impotent, for the receiver.

  I see my totem pole,

  an old story that I don’t know.

  Like this tree, it was here before me.

  Its secret sleeps in the grave at its feet,

  where heroes and villains lie buried.

  Sometimes in a breeze through icy air I can hear,

  I swear, a bear and an eagle lock feet.

  They’ll beg you to stay.

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