Remains of Jane
written by: Gerry Stefanson
red bricks, lime stone, marble floors
to be locked doors.
a life time to be checked in
a life time to be checked out.
building like a life,
brick by brick is built
brick by brick it will come down.
a life may flower or faster can unwind
both can end in rubble at,
before or after their time.
Jane the keeper of this rhyme
plays with a watch
that is not a keeper of days
hours, moments but slow sand
prays.
sand falls away and turns over, remains.
perpetual motion that never stops.
seemingly empty, yet a clock.
the length of a building
the length of a life,
is the length of a spool
yet to be unwind.
so what measure is that vapored spirit,
of life, as is mortar and brick.
the ticking of living slow or fast.
when the walls of Jane’s asylum
stand hard and fast.
when they go and long gone,
yet the voice Jane,
the song
go on – on – on and on.
only aristocrats and degenerates drink wine,
Jane claimed.
why I’ll never know,
she supped daily,
with the vigor of a wealthy wino.
her interment, sad though required
by the events that transpired,
proved to be too true.
with warning and dare
to be fair
I did what I could do.
brick, stone and mortal mortar
could never hold her,
only the walls she built around her
stood true.
the cells in her mind
kept her defined
to safe places,
she thought she knew.
crossing the plateau
I saw her steps in the snow,
switch from two tracks to four
her nightmares and mine
were coming true.
the queen and king of jellybeans
knew what they were after.
lengthy talks, Solomon walks
souls about to tatter.
Jane
a pen to hold, a fence to built
all papers offered and scattered.
a gift to be given, a giving got
a rose not to wilt
a rose left to rot.
Jane
like administrating, yet cultivating
ink planted in somber rows.
quotes put to work
punctuation ebb’s and flows.
incantations of alphabet,
of elder nations.
Jane
moors no more,
marshes no less,
colchicine warming limbs.
change will come, change will fill
an outer coat, an inner chill
accompanied verb, legends and pills.
Jane
Castle walls come into view
her home, yet her here after.
the work was done
now just empty pews.
to hold her halls, rather then arms,
building her boundaries, mental draw bridges.
Jane
lupus challenge, hard callous,
re born of promises past.
a quill to write, vision in night,
a shape to faun and play.
her new condition, again bitten
left only to her volition
Jane
the needle drops
Smokey Robertson – Tracks of my Tears
melting down twenty years
gone to ground,
walls and halls
gather round.
Jane
I took my leave
before she took me.
everything older
then over my shoulder
Jane
no note of change
clothes and all the same.
my constant girl
not faded or grey
Jane
what can not be
consistence anatomy,
the hungry eyes
constant lies.
Jane
blankets and worn apparel
undoubtedly her lair,
undoable insane
then our before
Jane
my linger passes
doubt doubled
under any glasses
blurs vision of before’s
Jane
a needle drops
Gary Brooker’s arrangement
from a broken chapel rails
“a Whiter Shade of Pale”
remains of Jane continue
where I fail
Jane so Jane.
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