Introspection
Written by Kat Lai
Poetry used to be my way of coping with my inner frustrations and meditations. Nowadays, I use bathroom stall doors as Bobo dolls, which may not be as lasting and graceful as a poem can be, but makes me feel that much better. Some of the poems just sucked; others weren't so bad. Following are a few that I liked the most (that I have on disk) from my "angst-filled" years.
Rainbow Chaser
Inspired by the character of Emily in the "Emily of New Moon" trilogy by L.M. Montgomery.
She wandered, aimless, as a ghost
On a warm midsummer's afternoon,
While shadows hunted everywhere
That summer day in the midst of June.She had seen the rainbow's end
And sought to chase it, find it.
But light had dimmed, the rainbow fled,
She was snapped from the spell, unbinded.She looked around for the very first time,
Her feet upon the sand,
She found no friends, nor familiar face,
She was trapped in a foreign land.So now, she must wander invisibly
Like a ghost who cannot stay,
But she says with her face to the clear blue sky,
"There'll be other rainbows someday."
-June 1992
Memories
Meditation mood poem. I was going to submit it for a poetry contest in Owl Magazine,
but it turned out that the poem needed to rhyme. Suck.Memories are like
A treasure trove of gold
At the end of a rainbow,
Or a bitterly cold winter
Something you want to forget,
Something you want to remember.
A store of deeds done
And stories told,
Elation and happiness
Or sunken feelings
Like ships in the deep.
-June 1991
Still the Sun Rolls On
Inspired by one line in a song by Holly Near and a comic strip from "For Better or For Worse".The world turns quickly
Another day has dawned
Cars race
Going from one place to another
Passengers stare unseeing
Out the windows as they pass by
Scenery passing fast on each side
Drivers grip the wheels
watching the traffic
Leaning on the horns
If the world moves too slow
And still the sun rolls onThe sand slips swiftly
Another morning is gone
People walk quickly
Running a race with time
Friends and family stop by
But there is no time to say hello
Too many commitments
Too many things to do
They never stop to look at others
And still the sun rolls onThe clock ticks silently
Another working day is done
The road is congested with cars
Each wanting to be home quickly
A beautiful sunset is on the horizon
But no one stops to look
They return home and eat
while finishing work left undone
A quick kiss goodnight for the children
No time to spend with them
Too much to do
And still the sun rolls onThe pages of the calendar fly
Another ten years are gone
Now they are old
Nothing left to do
They reflect on their lives
filled with "what ifs"
and "should haves"
But it is too late
The children are gone
Caught in the rat race
There is no beauty in nature
left for them
The world grows grey and cold
And still the sun rolls onA bell tolls slowly
Another life is gone
Mourners reflect on his life
And find nothing worth remembering
Just empty promises and forgotten friends
Written on the tombstone
For everyone to see
The lesson that he learned too late:
"At present all Time marches slowly
And Tomorrow's far away
But the pace of Time runs faster
When Now becomes Yesterday
Count your gifts before they're gone
For the sun, it still rolls on."
-January 1992
Image
Inspired by looking in a shop window on a sunny street
I met a girl the other day
Walking hurriedly.
I paused awhile to look at her
And she, to look at me.Her straight black hair was neatly kept,
Her brown eyes, large and bright,
Her suit was pressed, her shoes were clean.
She seemed a handsome sight.I looked closer at her face;
She bent to look at mine.
Her eyes were tired, bloodshot, tense,
With panic they did shine."Good evening, dear," I said to her,
but answer came there none.
Her lips just moved when my did move,
Then smiled as mine had done.I turned and hurried down the street
That bright and sunny day.
The girl I saw turned away as well
And went the other way.
-November 1991
In Memoriam
A meditation on life, and the fact that no matter how showy and beautiful and rare
we all are, we are nothing more than dolls with painted faces. Depressing read, but what can you do.A little dancer,
Perched on a pedestal
On one dainty foot,
Arms reaching to the heavens
Face uplifted with a smile.
A key is turned, and
Slowly,
Haltingly, music sounds,
As the dancer spins around
And around.A beautiful, unique sound
Playing shyly for all to hear.
Then bolder and faster
The music flows,
And everyone stops to listen
While the dancer whirls
Faster and faster.People crowd around,
Wrapped in the magic
The music weaves.
And the dancer smiles prettily,
Basking in her spotlight,
And dances with all her being,
Her heart and her soul.Finally, the music wavers,
Slowing clumsily.
The dancer falters,
Feeling dizzy
From her pace before.
Slower and slower still
Until at last
The music, unable to force out
Its melody any longer,
Dies in mid-phrase
With one gasping note.People walk away
Carrying faint memories of the tune,
Wanting to hear it again,
Knowing that they never will.
But the memory fades
And they live as before.And the dance stops.
And the dancer is nothing
More than a doll
With a painted face.
-May 1994
The Doll
Being short and having tiny features, I had the adjective "cute" applied to me on a regular basis,
particularly by those girls that were part of the "in" crowd in school. I hated it. Still do, actually.
A plastic face
With a painted smile
Glass eyes that see everything
And reveal nothing
Small body
Small fingers
Child's face
Trampled with words
Hurt and left alone on the floor
When they do not want to play
with her any more
And still she smiles
Her eyes unchanged
A broken face
Unable to cry
Facedown and tearless on the floor
Waiting patiently for loving hands
to pick her up
And love her again
-June 1994
Sonnets
I. My Heart Rejoices
My heart rejoices when I hear Thy word.
Thy lamb knows not but where to follow Thee.
When I am lost I know my bleat is heard,
For Thou shalt leave the fold in search of me.Lord, often have I have wandered in the dark.
Methought I saw, but really, I was blind,
Until I heard Thy voice deep in my heart,
And light shone forth into my plagučd mind.And till that day when Thou appear'st as groom,
Thy maid-in-waiting waits outside Thy door.
Her lamp is lit against the darkened room,
Awake, she is prepared forever more.
As far, my Lord, as Earth dwells from the sky,
So far, I know, my heart for Thee shall fly.
-April 1993
I saw thine eyes, so beautiful and brown,
That seemed into my very soul to see,
And then, I felt my heart bow down to thee
As blossoms in a storm bow to the ground.
But yet, I fight the feelings I am known
To have for thee, for thou canst not love me.
Like ships away from storm, I run alee
To hide my love away from thee, deep down.
And still, I see thine eyes within my tears
That seem to smile as they watch my despair.
I suffer, bearing love I cannot show,
But my heart still leaps whene'er thy face appears,
As beautiful as sun, in summer's fair
Doth shine, and I know I cannot let go.
-April 1993
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Dec. 6/89
© Kat Lai, 2002.
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