Thursday, July 13, 2006

Lucila

Well, friends and neighbors, I've been about thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis busy with work since my big promotion and I've been training and all. Now, training will be over soon, but for now I just don't really have a ton of time to blog. But in happier news, I found an envelope with tons of things I'd written in the past, so I decided to share some of them here. Some are spiritual, some political, some sad, and some really really dark. This first one is actually based on a true story, which I'll tell you if you ask. It's not my strongest poem, (in fact it's the third I ever wrote, and it can feel a bit sing-songy), but it has special meaning to me. So here you go. It's called

Lucila


Deep brown eyes and long black hair:
I've seen her before, but I don't know where.
Ruby lips and golden skin.
A smile that seems to draw me in.

Kind of shy, but so am I.
Then everything's blurry and I don't know why.
She fades away. The world turns grey.
The dream is now over and it's time for day.

Lucila, Lucila, the girl of my dreams.
You're with me at night, but it's not what it seems.
I love you, I need you, don't know where you are.
I sense that you're near, but I know that you're far.

My stomach churns, my spirit burns.
I slip into bed as the night returns.
I count the sheep; I fall asleep.
I have an appointment I'm dying to keep.

Then there she is; she's crystal clear.
She smiles at me, assuages me fear.
We talk all might, it feels so right,
But then she is gone, the sun's dawning bright.

Another day just fades away.
The world is so bleak, the sun's shining grey.
Then fading light, O blessed night,
My soul comes alive with peaceful delight.

My spirits rise; I close my eyes.
But this time Lucila just sits and she cries.
"Come look for me. Come set me free.
I'm more than a dream; I'm reality."


I'm out of bed; I clear my head.
I'll keep looking for her until I am dead.
I search the world; I search my soul.
It's breaking my heart; it's taking its toll.

It's all for her, no thought for cost:
The mountains and oceans and deserts I've crossed.
I'm often lost and tempest-tossed.
I've been scorched by the sun, and bitten by frost.

Lucila, Lucila, the girl of my dreams,
You're with me at night, but it's not what it seems.
I love you, I need you, I've traveled so far.
I sense that you're near, but don't know where you are.

A burst of light, my soul takes flight.
Lucila is sitting right there in my sight.
She's here at last; it comes so fast.
I've forgotten the problems and pains of the past.

We both sit down, don't watch the clock.
We're happy together. We laugh and we talk.
But she turns her head, her cheeks turn red,
And her lips say words that bring icy dread.

"I hate to say, I cannot stay.
But our time is up and I must go away.
I'm glad we met. I'm in your debt.
But my heart's with another and my ways are set."

She shakes my hand and there I stand
As she walks away. This is not what I planned.
My heart won't tick. I'm feeling sick.
Oh, how could the fates have played such a trick?

Why did I come? What was it worth?
Why did I travel the ends of the earth?
The miles I walked? The pounds that I lost?
The heart that was broken, the continents crossed?

The road was long, but I grew strong.
I learned how to say, "I'm sorry, I'm wrong."
Closer to God, my pride on a shelf,
I was looking for her, but instead found myself.

Lucila, Lucila, she helped me to see
Who I truly am, and who I can be.
Lucila, Lucila, she's not what she seems.
She's gone from my life, but se's still in my dreams.

5 comments:

вџн said...

Sing-songy is ok. As long as it isn't like a nursery ryhme, it's probably fine.

Samantha said...

This is me, asking about the true story--will you tell me?

I don't critique poetry, since I've never been able to rhyme anyway. Prose is more my style.

You say just enough to make me curious.

Sara Bear said...

Yay. I like it. It's doesn't drag on and it doesn't cut short. The sing-songiness makes it perfect to be put to music.. If only I could write songs...

Jonathan and I made your cookies for you that we still owe you, but we ate them.. :)

Soon enough.

twmaedkk

Chris Sandberg said...

I like It!

I would really like to hear the true story that it is based on.

Mustard said...

Your mission produced a lot of good poetry! Love you! M