Chad Lilly
 'A Day in the Mind'

     Poetry On The Horizon

On the horizon of poetry
I see dawn's light rising in the east,
I can see the darkness recede
and poets born of the Word
speaking in verse inspired,
original, and written
directly from the well which
all of us drawl
our breath.
I see profound renewal
and death immeasurable;
one following the other
in cycles of spinning
transition . . . I see expressions
changing on the face of people
wading through Dr. Seuss and Danielle Steele,
to hear words arranged like the atoms
of perfect flowers . . . while the crowd
stands and stares in silent
I see the measurements of time
quickening . . . the pace and price
of material life exceeding daily; beyond
what peasants can afford to pay
on a slave's wage; and the apathy
thickens like a sickness spreading
by word of mouth.
I see traditions thrown to the ground
and foundations collapsing
beneath the weight
of this house divided . . . while
poets recite their lines and meaning
into the hearts of readers
seeking the poetry on the horizon.

First Law of Thermodynamics

I'd be lying if I said
the future smelled like flowers
or felt like cotton . . .
a liar indeed to say
that everything's going to be OK,
when its not even OK now.

Somehow . . . I feel the truth
is closer to genetically altered cows
that grow in little plastic tubes
and give birth to calves of their own
next Tuesday, somehow . . . I see
our fields overgrown
with drive-thru prisons
and rehabilitation centers
designed to make you feel at home
with incarceration.

Somehow . . . I sense we're being watched
by anyone with a motive and camera; that
the walls have ears and eyes and while
our pens plead with congressmen, the voting lines
grow longer with those in support
of a police state to arrest the chaos
and make us feel safe and secure . . .
while we pretend to be free.

I wish I could see a way around
the effects we've set in motion,
Indeed, I'm looking for a more
soothing point of view; but every action
produces an equal opposite reaction
and objects set to motion, remain in motion
unless acted upon by an outside force.

From Where I'm Sitting

From where I'm sitting
I see shadows dancing
to the music of madness,
sounds of laughter
mock all outcomes,
and pages wait
to be written
like history in the making.

From where I'm sitting
drawn shades obscure
the outside world,
unassociated faces fill the void,
images and intentions speak lawlessly,
unbound potential flows
in a rapid stream of energy
becoming thoughts and things
both intangible and concrete;
and the view is outstanding.

From where I'm sitting
I can not hear the sound
of unrealized dreams dying
or people plotting
to kill them . . . here,
the silence is comforting
and the audience receptive
to quiet narratives and prose
composed by a hand
as distant as it is near; from where I'm sitting,
I can hear my own voice