As I mentioned last week LINK , it is my pleasure to feature a few poems written by my friend and creative colleague, B.E. Stock. Enjoy!
T.S.
HALF
To silence the screaming
I must listen to it
Go down to the cave
Where it echoes in rage
There will be no answer
No restraint no there there
To change the face inside
I must gaze at the face
Answer its ugliness
Give it my wounded breast
Sometimes I turn away
Lacking the strength to bear it
But I always return
Disgusted with half
Of myself and my life
Each time we come closer
To the final union
+
THE MATRIARCH
She set the terms of everything that was done
In the house; he worked, came home, gave her his pay
Yet their romance was such a stormy one
Their children sometimes shuddered till the day.
Voices, potatoes, butter hit the wall
Until an eerie stillness from his end
Was finally met by sobs, and they would blend
To passionate caresses in the hall.
Later their son-in-law would dread the times
He drove them to the airport, when they quarreled
About the weather, clothing, cents and dimes,
Though solidly united as to morals.
No one was worried about her when he died.
She spent more time in church, seemed satisfied –
But, strange to say, was dead within a year,
Needing to fight, and finding no one near.
