Poetry by June Kidd
Spontaneously written and never revised, my poetry was a form of therapy when life was very 'challenging.' I share with you to show that no matter how bleak the situation if you keep your feet on the ground and your eyes on the stars - and trust, you will eventually come to the surface and life will become easy again. Promise! June Kidd
Sometime
Some time
when the world has turned into the distance,
when we no longer need to justify,
then we will have acknowledged our death.
And the rhetoric of mornings past
will sing an everglade hymn
to fat jowled priests
whose delivery of regular prayer
ensures that their virtue will never know
the agony of premature movement.
So it will be for fat grey fish
motionless
just out of reach in mountain pools
to wonder
at the uncertainty of love.
J.K.
Twisting mercurial turning,
retrograde steps on an ice cold slab,
sinking depths of a tumbling mind
seeking its lair in the moldering earth
where expectation and secret thought
will rot into oblivion.
So, taste conformity, smell restriction,
sense the delicate grip
that primly sucks the optimism of youth.
But guard your soul
for if it becomes 'conditioned'
then you deserve to die.
(Notice the defiance at the end. This was a challenge to myself.)
J.K.
The Fightback
Survival
Must I forever grind
under the pain of anticipation,
the malignant growth of fear
that night intensifies.
To lie and wait
when there is no beginning
to the end
that starts the perfect day.
J.K.
I could not conform to the uniform sobbing.
Dread, only for a moment stirred echoes of the dark.
The misery seemed like a sudden night,
as fears joined like gatherings mists
and backs sought the walls of caves
for comfort and protection.
I could not conform to the uniform sobbing
but I took your soul to dance with mine
through the long grass.
Did you sense it?
Did you feel the sun on my face,
my outstretched hands
gathering life-giving rays
to quench the thirst of your fear?
I would not weep and add to your burden,
so I took your soul to dance with mine
in the yellow morning light.
I gave you the freedom of that spring morning,
the wind in my hair, earth cool to the touch,
a body light with youth, twisting soft circles of memory.
I could not conform to the uniform sobbing
but I went to the fields
and the gifts I laid at your sick-bed
were the joys of my life.
J.K.
End of a Life
Memories
The wedding was a hollow
a pressure of expected joy
she stood inside the wedding dress
and watched confetti drift and die...
J.K.
I longed for the time - a definite year.
I asked for the date -
the date of the ending
the change to not wanting
the peace of not needing
a time without feeling
a dullness to aching
the numbing of longing
the draining of passion
of empty emotion -
to kiss with detachment and feel no vibration -
like a timeless succession of waiting for nothing...
But my volatile form is soft with blue edges
and needs the fulfillment of aching and longing
and needing and giving
in laughter and loving
again and again and again.....
J.K.
