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Emma Beverage

Innocence of Youth

How many dawns
have I greeted?
How many more
Remain for me?
Why do I feel
the seasons
so plainly
at this hour?
The tingle
of colder air
brings with it,
a haunted mood
and half memories
of what used to be.
Waking up to
winter morns,
a child raised
on a farm.
The smell of biscuits
cooking, steam

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Poem to my Dad

11/22/82
by Emma Beverage

They left him there
Like an empty shell
An empty shell - silent - still

They left him there
So we could stare
So we could stare
At this hollow shell

It looked like my dad
Had gone to sleep
Sleep, sleep, eternal sleep
Sleep that made my family weep

And as I stared, this thought grew
Thoughts would never - again pass through
My daddy’s head

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The Proper Use of Control

Every thought and action
is a step towards creating
Paradise, here, now!

Or

It is a step towards
reinforcing and maintaining
the status quo.
This hell that we call reality.

The old and familiar
is known and comfortable.
Am I brave enough to “experiment”
with the unknown?
The unknown can be scary as hell!

Do I have the courage to change my world?
Am I brave enough to help to birth
another evolution in our species?

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Fetching Water

Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!

Everyone today has forgotten
what it’s like to haul water in a pail.
Every house must have a Jacuzzi,
and a big swimming pool, as well.

Come on now; let’s go fetch some water
grab a pail in each hand and let’s go.
Down the hill, to the pond in the holler,
then we’ll climb back up the hill with that water!

And our homes must have a green lawn
to keep it looking really good!
The water we waste on that green grass
could be used by the farmer to grow food.

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