SamadhiMuse

            Sometimes when I think of her it’s with love
               and sometimes it’s with sadness.
            I see another dreamer
               fallen over the edge where dreamers go
                  when they feel their dreams slipping away
            and I wonder what I can do for her, save give love
               and even there I wonder
                  if its kindness or pain I bring.
            That spirit she keeps so deeply hidden within her
               craves love as the touchstone
                  in this world grown aged and dreamless
            but I have only the form of love to give
               not the substance
            and in the end I may open her heart
               just to leave it bleeding.
            She smokes and drinks so casually now
               pulling the bricks from the temple of her body.
            It passes the time
               and dulls
            that dreamless clarity she hates so
            my water sister, my lover,
               what can I do for you?
            Where you seek security
               I have only this love by appointment
            and where you crave deep purpose
               I have only this poetry.
            I can listen and share with you
               but, in the end, I cannot replace
            your dreams with mine
               nor share the wellsprings
                  of joy in my life with you.
            I understand well your feelings
               but like a man on the other side of a glass wall,
            I can do no more than press the barrier
               that separates our true selves
            and look with compassion and empathy
               as you struggle with your life
                  and care very deeply
                     if you win or loose.
                           gallagher
                           25 june 83 – about Kathleen A.
                           SJC, CA

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

            July in conjunction,
                     node on the run
      Somedays just seem to be conjunctions
         wring you out and test you functions
      comes the ticking of the clock
         calendar pages…
            the motion just won’t stop
      And its here that things collide
         you’re forced to tell the truth…or lie
      its here you come to find the blame
         moments cross like arrows in flame
            you can’t remember your name
      you can feel the days are walking’
         expectation/promises talkin’
      and you know you’re going to fall
         you can here you echos call
            your appointment’s up against the wall
      so you wait …
         so you wait …
      and listen to the murmur of your fears
         the empty moments shocks are near
            and it ALL becomes so clear
      you’re here again at the crossroads
         you couldn’t let it alone
      and now you’ve planned the future’s coming’
         but someone else is coming home…
            but someone else is coming home…
                        gallagher
                        7-29-83  – about Kathleen A.
                        SJC

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —