"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."

Tuesday, June 25, 1991

The Search For Truth

If a monarch fluttered by,
would you see it for its blazing tincture
and symmetric concinnity
or for its
fragility; its freedom; its uniqueness; its divinity?

If you found a seashell in the bearing sands,
would you see a glass doll on the shore
or would you feel
the force of the wondrous sea,
and listen for
the breathtaking connotation from the core?

If you look up at the nighttime sky,
do you see a cluster of sparkling dots in a pool of black
or do you see
gleaming, snowy eyes that open to unknown worlds
and twinkling keys to inner peace and back?

If you see a sculpture or a painting,
do you see
a well-smoothed plaster and framed arrangement of hues
or do you see
a lifetime of emotions molded into a form,
and a canvassed portrait of bliss or deepening blues?

When you look at a beautiful girl,
you see
a form and face you love,
but you'd be surprised
what you could see
if you would only
look at me.

June 25, 1991

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