Bradley Jay Phipps (December 17,1956 / Durango, Colorado)
(du Lac, Trilogy II) Condemned, du Lac
Yes, you are.
Condemned to view life
through eyes that scintillate
In the wisp of moonclouds.
Kiss the whisper of a stage door John
who tells only the wind
that he sees the wisp scintillating
even when the shades are closed, and
the glass is covered with mascara leaves.
But don't be flattered by his presence
for the wind travels in all directions.
Live on the south side of time.
Relish the thought of arising again, but
you never will, du Lac.
Not traveling in that time warp called
yesterday, and stage door John is angered...
Yet, all he can do is laugh.
Laugh at the prospect of never
seeing the moonclouds wisp again...
He never saw the moonclouds wisp
till they reflected off your breast. He
never saw the daystar flicker till
he entered into your nest, and
you winged him
on your sovereignty.
Condemned, du Lac.
Yes, you are!
condemned to walk through
a hallway marked by doorways
of desert sand that filter, filter your dreams.
You move like a doe on the field of awe, but
count your hallows in a sandstorm
when eyes are opened to find the handle
of each door, each dream.
It will not hurt as much
as the vagabond closet.
Stage door John is angered...
Yet, all he can do is cry.
Cry at the prospect of never
knowing the moonclouds wisp again...
Damn, you, du Lac!
For your condemnation is selfish.
who wants to know
How late is later?
Comments about this poem ((du Lac, Trilogy II) Condemned, du Lac by Bradley Jay Phipps )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley