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More Poetry and writings By Trace Duncan
"Smallest Thoughts"
An old woman standing in the middle
of a desert nowhere
Her bangs yellow from nicotine, the
rest of her hair snow white
She glannces into the sun soaked sky
and raises her arms up high
And from the heavens she saw beyond
the sunset
A red insanity spreading like an amorous
wildfire
burning up and wasting away the brush
of a dry African knoll
the elderly vagabond begins to sing
the blues, to soothe
and fill and empty place as her mind's
space grew
Dreams are the smallest but most symbolic
thoughts in a day
Whenever they are concieved, then wondered
about
They become a man's most powerful driving
force of desire
Men cannot avoid the compelling urge
to wander
Throughout their belabored imaginations
A world full of flying cars and obedient
cyborgs
Or maybe a special gift for the lady
in life
A paradise jungle where all the beast
are timid, and
Every stream leads to a beautiful waterfall,
sparkling magic
An escape from sense, back to the embryonic
state
Is there such a path, to escape the
pain of our anguishes?
Scavenging and roaming to survive this
heart broken world
Crying, biting, clawing, laughing,
sighing, fighting, and dying !
These words are born as the sun goes
down and the stars light up
A night long uptopia begins as one
lays down to rest their eyes
When your lids droop to a visionquest
of glory
The smallest thoughts of the day take
your mind soaring !
All I do is think when it's real late
at night and the other prisoners are
Sleeping, you can hear a pen drop on
a pillow. I try to focus on my wretched surroundings.
I try not to get over wrought on what
may be to come. But those are the very thoughts
Flooding my mind like roaring rapids
of fear and regret. I'll pick up a book and turn on the radio to
distract me from those dark feelings. But books and music are only
temporary fix's for my dismay. When their numbing effects wear off
I am pulled back into those melancholy moments by myself. Thinking
sullen thoughts I'll probably never share with another human being.
Prison is like having epiphany every
day of the week. Everything that made no sense when I was free suddenly
becomes clear, while most epiphanies I can't forget my clarity the moment
after it comes to me.
It's a constant reminder of my ignorance.
Grasping the truth momentarily may be better than having it haunt you.
I work breakfast. That means
I get up about 3:30 every morning. On a clear night I can see a single
star outside in the eastern horizon. The first time I noticed it
I was looking out the window from my tray hole before they opened my door
to work,. In a fleeting prayer I asked God to show me a sign if there's
a chance
That I'll make it back to the free
world again, or just off death row… I guess I looked away or something
but when my eyes focused to the front of me I saw that star just twinkling
at me. To me, that is a sign. Each time I see it now I am reminded
of the people striving to bring about the end of violence and murder (state
sanctioned or otherwise) Do not strive in vain. Good things are coming
for us !!!
T.R. Duncan
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