"Accolades For Valor" by Matthew Johnson (1993): "She goes through life, gliding, a benevolent seer/ Stopping constantly to aid those in need, those not even dear/ I, an individual, swept up in the storm/ Of a woman, who, in search of herself, defies the norm/ As I, an outcast, fighting myself, yet daring to believe/ That if I ask her aid and succor (and possibly love) she won’t leave/ Giving her heart, mind and soul to every known cause/ Causing me to look about my selfish malestrom, and in introspection give pause/ For all her words, she won’t write about me, does she fail to perceive/ What the object knows to be true and what make believe—/ Words rarely present, presence much more of one/ Is to wish for more as good as wishing for the sun?/ Energy is precious, as I know well to be true/ And I am curious to know, Lorraine, what I can ask of you/ Names are important, they make us who we are/ Much more important than people give credit, by far/ The masses may cry “Lori!” and let them do so!/ For the numbers who call that cannot understand/ They will never know the Lorraine inside, the one crying to live/ Will be forever frustrated by those whose minds are like a sieve/ There may be those who rob her of her world, let them scratch the skin/ They are as pinpricks to the steel within/ These accolades are not exaggeration, not pretentious/ I Just want you to know that there is at least one who is conscious/ That the world is a better place for the life of a woman named Lorraine."

Friday, January 21, 1994

The Distance

If you only knew
how much it hurts
to try so hard
to be close to you,
and constantly
be pushed away.

No, not by any intentional physical means,
but constant jest
or sleep;
Always to the world of sleep;
Every time you close your eyes..

If you only knew!

I hate myself for thinking things
but
my mind races.

I bet you could gaze into her eyes.
I bet you could spend hours making love to her.

I'm hurting.
I'm left wanting.
Don't you want me?

If not, tell me now,
before I give myself to you.

I've done this before.
No more!
No more swallowed tears,
please;
not this time;
think how you'd feel.

Then again,
you probably can't
because this is a position
I would never put you in.

January 21, 1994

posted by Lorraine Courigan at 12:14 PM

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