PAPER MAZE

Long, endless corridors

echo the sterile sound

of tails, and trials, and tortures

where histories and sciences are bound

On metal shelves, cold and white

rooms and stories on end

Here Shakespeare gained immortality

and Huck freed his first black friend

Plato pleaded for Socrates

while Robin Hood protected the poor

but Scarlet lost Rhett Butler

when the South lost the Civil War

Milton lost his paradise

Hamlet lost Ophelia

Abyssinia was lost to diabetes

and science found gonorrhea

The British clung to Parliament

Americans worshiped their vote

dynasties fell and monarchs ruled

while Heidi raised her goat

Hitchcock thrived on terror

the Lindenburg babe didn’t survive

the Hindenburg exploded

but Patty Hearst was kept alive

Twain ventured the Mississippi

but Old Yeller had to die

Charlotte weaved her web

catching Nixon in a lie

The Kennedys lost their son

the sun is composed of gasses

Mozart composed concertos

while Hitler ruled the masses

Plants photosynthesize

neurons in my brain transmit

as my retinas reflect on books

in the library where I sit

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

NEVER GONE

Photo by Jennifer Mandell © 2012  

I appreciate my mind and the things it can do,

the enduring sense of optimism I inherited from you,

the strings on my guitar and the notes they can play,

the little joys I find in each passing day.

I appreciate the little things that make me smile,

and anything that can engross me for a while,

the colorful brilliance of the late evening sky,

the softness of the grass in the field where I lie.

The sound of laughter and the shedding of tears,

friendships that have endured throughout the years,

the promises of spring and the smells of fall,

the way that I still remember it all.

I appreciate that life is here and then it's gone,

that the truths are things we have known all along,

that the real measure of a life well-lived

lies in a person's capacity to give.

It matters not the material things left behind,

but how often you cross another person's mind,

are others inspired by the life that you've led,

do you motivate them to get out of bed.

To dust themselves off and try yet again,

to be there for others that they call "friend",

to be more than they thought they could be,

you were one of those people for me.

Not here anymore, but not really gone,

because my memories of you still live on.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

WORDS

In the darkest of hours

in a world far away

I contemplate life

and size up the day

I recall the times

and people now gone

of scents and of faces

I’ve known all along

Of places imagined

and a world unseen

of words not spoken

and a heart in between

Between what I say

and what I feel

the words are a lie

masking what’s real

Just letters on a page

that is all that I have

words are salvation

words are a salve

Words illuminate

and words do lie

words tell the truth

and allow us to hide

In the darkest of hours

lost to the night

words that have meaning

awaiting daylight

Drowning in noise

that crashes around

a soul that cries out

without a sound

These words that echo

aloud in my head

seeking salvation

as I lay in my bed

I think of a time

now far from view

I think of meaning

and I remember you

In the darkest of hours

a world far from sight

a memory of hope

in the darkest of night

Words are inadequate 

to sum up the day

of people and places

of a world far away

Lost now from view

but not from the heart

a world far away

but never apart

© 2012 by Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

ONE BREATH

Life is constant motion

yet unwavering and still

life defies direction

yet bends to the will

Life is a shimmering prism

an expanse vast and deep

nothing left to lose

nothing here to keep

Life is a singular moment

just this one tiny breath

separating then from now

existence from death

Life is one long journey

moments fleeting and rare

life is an open question

left hanging in the air

Life is always measured

priceless but at a cost

never truly broken

never really lost

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell

REMAINS OF THE DAY

The afternoon sun
casts silhouettes
reflecting upon the day
without sorrow or regrets

In the air hangs a whisper
of a far and distant time
of people and places
long left behind

Of roads untraveled
and paths unseen
of past and of future
of this time in between

In gentle repose
the sun vanishes from sight
gold bleeding into purple
then surrendering to night

But the whispers remain
these echos of time
of people and places
things left behind.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

 

GHOSTS IN THE NIGHT

Out of the closet

and onto the page

words with no meaning

a cold, icy rage

Darkness to the left

storms to my right

no time to quit

or put up a fight

These ghosts of mine

keep circling around

holding me back

tying me down

Searching for truth

in these things that I find

playing with words

and wasting my time

From silver to gold

the sun travels west

shouting its tales

to a world still at rest

The night takes hold

and blankets my room

the day fades away

I cling to the moon

These words in my head

will recede with the light

back to the closet

just ghosts in the night

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.

LIFE IN WORDS

Life has a way of spinning around,

of lifting off and crashing down. 

Life can disappoint and life can thrill,

moving fast and then standing still. 

Life is silent and life is loud,

you stand alone amid the crowd. 

Feet planted firm as you tremble and shake,

eyes closed, but fully awake.

Surrounded by darkness,

blinding and bright,

as shadows of grey

obscure the night.

Descending in mist,

engulfing the soul,

nothing remains unsaid,

no secrets to be told.

Life is random moments,

fleeting, exposed, and raw,

passing no final judgments,

no larger meaning to it all.

Life crashes over you,

lie still, close your eyes.

In stillness there is meaning,

at dawn the sun will rise.

With life there is silence,

still waters raging deep,

a collage of random memories,

pictures that we keep.

In truth there are no words

to adequately describe

the sensation of your soul,

when it is awake and alive.

© 2012  Jennifer Mandell.  All rights reserved.