virus: The Tempest (for Reed)

joe dees (joedees@bellsouth.net)
Fri, 05 Mar 1999 02:25:20 -0500

A man was sitting upon a chair
In a red rut shotgun shed
Chin on palm and a thousand mile stare
hearing voices inside his head.
"TRY and ignore us!" the voices cried

As the thunderheads mushroomed dark and wide
"We will NOT be bottled here up inside."
As the cannon boomed o'erhead.

"We know your soul's triumphs and despairs"
As the wind-whipped rafters moaned
"And the depths of the good and the evil there"
As foundations creaked and groaned.
"We know all the things that you've never tried"
As dark torrents drenched the world outside
"And where lost years have blown."

"You know we know and you know we care"

As the lightning fell all aground
"Because we're YOU!" And though thunder blared
The little man heard not a sound.
And though blast and brilliance raged through the blind O'ershadowed they were by his raging mind As his thoughts of things lost, and left behind Spun him wond'ring round and round.
Joe E. Dees
Poet, Pagan,
Philosopher



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