"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."

Saturday, August 25, 1990

Unlock Your Heart

If you could open your eyes to the splendour,
and escape from your proposed disguise,
you would uncover paradisical bliss,
and chase the pedantry shadows from beside:

The sandy beaches we could never wander;
the emotions we could never squander;
the sunsets we'd never watch together;
the never promising of glorious weather;
the candlelight dinners we could never dine on;
the future: blank walls we could never write on;
the romantic kisses we could never share;
the fun we could never have as a pair;
the tight embraces we could never encounter;
the volume of our love never growing louder;


If you could only open your eyes to the splendour,
you'd find a slice of life so tender.

August 25, 1990

posted by Lorraine Courigan at 11:32 AM

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