“From Farrah” A poem by Douglas P Rauch, Jr.
FROM FARRAH – A poem by Farrah’s Uncle Douglas P Rauch, Jr.
Most of you don’t know me.
The rest of you didn’t know me.
I hid from you
And I hid from myself
Captured, frightened and held
By the world of anti-life;
Hidden sky,
Clear found door
To gloom
Muddles life’s vision
In darkest shadow
Under a sun
Blotted
By a deep inchor
A cloud that baths me
In the cold and warmth
Of its own hues,
Worn like a stain,
Refreshing as a draught of mirage water,
Shallow quarter for a mind,
A resisting place of momentary being-
I move differently
Through this inside world
Inhospitable to life.
Arms and legs
Bidden to action
Obey new directions.
Sails of self
Capture the winds
Of dark missives pulled
And acted on by anti-life’s
Impatient command-
An often familiar
And sometimes alien ambiance surrounds me,
Suffused with the hues
Unknown to light-
Duels the outside world,
Numbs it into oblivion.
This part of my self
Commandeers the whole-
A tactile quickly flighted act
Escapes into light.
For some to see,
For none to believe.
A piece
Of the outside world falls
By the ill power
Bursting to momentary view.
This traveler returns to rest,
Who must disappear the act of ill deed.
I retreat from the dark landscape,
To seek conformity
In “normal” existence.
But the edge of a hurricane,
Never far from my realty,
Touches the path of crime and circumstance.
Strong dry winds
Suck the dew of life from my view of
Your realm to shred
The sails of conscience,
To grind the debris
Of life’s decay into a choking dust.
To breathe, I must move.
Beside a familiar path
Jagged sharp edge
Shards of self-
Shaped to fit neatly in intent,
Need only that familiar compulsion
To spring into the hands of action-
Ugly fruit
Ripe for plucking.
Shadows
Darker than the inchor
Of deep space
Fall from the lee side of the boulders
Opposing life’s emotions.
A secure wrapping
In which the light of innocence
May be extinguished from my light.
The will of disruption
In a place of beginning.
The crime is the necessity
To allow ill happening.
Along the chosen path I seek
To fulfill the purpose
Of anti-life’s taunting,
To move to a scene of commitment.
In me,
A dark dry wind shrieks the necessity-
A voice that screams from the tortured emotion
Of wanted release, then,
Tears away the last sails of innocence
Leaving only the compulsion
To capture the evil storm.
Thoughts of life are pushed aside.
The will to stop this moment dies.
An evil hand holds mine,
Reaches out,
To wield the weapon of its own construct,
Feeling so strong,
So right to act.
The undoing
Of the world of life,
The sated will of anti-life.
The weapon drops from hand,
And the winds of fulfillment
Join life and innocence with anti-life
And grief.
To your eyes
I am whole once more.
The fragile winds of peace
Calm the tempest of anger and rage
But do not extinguish their fire.
Anti-life
Claims the day.
Good bye.
FROM FARRAH – A poem by Farrah’s Uncle Douglas P Rauch, Jr.
Most of you don’t know me.
The rest of you didn’t know me.
I hid from you
And I hid from myself
Captured, frightened and held
By the world of anti-life;
Hidden sky,
Clear found door
To gloom
Muddles life’s vision
In darkest shadow
Under a sun
Blotted
By a deep inchor
A cloud that baths me
In the cold and warmth
Of its own hues,
Worn like a stain,
Refreshing as a draught of mirage water,
Shallow quarter for a mind,
A resisting place of momentary being-
I move differently
Through this inside world
Inhospitable to life.
Arms and legs
Bidden to action
Obey new directions.
Sails of self
Capture the winds
Of dark missives pulled
And acted on by anti-life’s
Impatient command-
An often familiar
And sometimes alien ambiance surrounds me,
Suffused with the hues
Unknown to light-
Duels the outside world,
Numbs it into oblivion.
This part of my self
Commandeers the whole-
A tactile quickly flighted act
Escapes into light.
For some to see,
For none to believe.
A piece
Of the outside world falls
By the ill power
Bursting to momentary view.
This traveler returns to rest,
Who must disappear the act of ill deed.
I retreat from the dark landscape,
To seek conformity
In “normal” existence.
But the edge of a hurricane,
Never far from my realty,
Touches the path of crime and circumstance.
Strong dry winds
Suck the dew of life from my view of
Your realm to shred
The sails of conscience,
To grind the debris
Of life’s decay into a choking dust.
To breathe, I must move.
Beside a familiar path
Jagged sharp edge
Shards of self-
Shaped to fit neatly in intent,
Need only that familiar compulsion
To spring into the hands of action-
Ugly fruit
Ripe for plucking.
Shadows
Darker than the inchor
Of deep space
Fall from the lee side of the boulders
Opposing life’s emotions.
A secure wrapping
In which the light of innocence
May be extinguished from my light.
The will of disruption
In a place of beginning.
The crime is the necessity
To allow ill happening.
Along the chosen path I seek
To fulfill the purpose
Of anti-life’s taunting,
To move to a scene of commitment.
In me,
A dark dry wind shrieks the necessity-
A voice that screams from the tortured emotion
Of wanted release, then,
Tears away the last sails of innocence
Leaving only the compulsion
To capture the evil storm.
Thoughts of life are pushed aside.
The will to stop this moment dies.
An evil hand holds mine,
Reaches out,
To wield the weapon of its own construct,
Feeling so strong,
So right to act.
The undoing
Of the world of life,
The sated will of anti-life.
The weapon drops from hand,
And the winds of fulfillment
Join life and innocence with anti-life
And grief.
To your eyes
I am whole once more.
The fragile winds of peace
Calm the tempest of anger and rage
But do not extinguish their fire.
Anti-life
Claims the day.
Good bye.