Lost Poems: Carpenter

Carpenter

If I made something with my hands
I am afraid a sloppy carpenter I would make
trying to hammer hay into gold
only pounding away to mulch,
digging out the foundations
when I can not afford the concrete.

So I will stare at the prayer nailed to the door,
missing its hinges,
reading Rilke's:

      Because One Man wanted so much to have you,
      I know that we can all want you.

~ Written by me, Annette, in the Spring of 2003


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We Have Been Called

We have been called
   naïve
as if it were
a dirty word
We have been called
   innocent
as though with shame
our cheeks should burn
So
We visited with
the careful idols
of cynicism
to learn to sneer
and pant and walk
   so as not to feel the scales
   of judgment rub wrongly
But we say
   some things must
   remain simple
   some things must remain
   untouched
   and pure
lest we all forget
the legacy which begot us
the health of our origins
the poetry of our fundamental selves

And so
it is to
the longing hearts we sing
rise! spread
your wings!
Let no hand
nor ill will
keep you.

~Published by Jewel, "a night without armor" in 1998

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