"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."

Thursday, August 02, 1990

A Vision

Clinging to a ledge,
above 12,000 feet,
my eyes, full of fear, traveled wisely.
Below lay a valley of smiles:


Ballet dancers leaping willowy;
Giraffes nibbling at fruitful branches;
Roses blossoming in fresh scent;
Violins stringing; Trumpets harmonizing;
Rippling liquid crystal showering over stones;
Voices chattering and whispering;
Winged dolls soaring above it all;
Fresh grapes from the vine; Ripe apples from trees;
Gleaming streams of pastel light;
and emerald meadows and evergreen towers;


My hands discovered a tight grasp.
My might towed me forward.
My eyes, still entranced in the world below,
opened for the first time.

August 2, 1990

posted by Lorraine Courigan at 11:29 AM

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