On Knowing

On Knowing

By: Heather Nanni

Imbeciles speak certainty

What a gift

To speak as if to know

To know nothing and yet speak

Profess

Extol the virtues of a fool

And believe

And others believe your earnest folly

What hubris

Oh how I envy your lack of modesty, your lack of shame

I would trade fortunes if only to share in your gift

To know

I would know

so I would sing

 

Lie with me

in the night                                                                                             

 

Look at the stars  

without fear 

without fright

 

Know all is well   

Don’t question   

Do not doubt

 

The stars will not fall

and burn your dreams out

 

But I am too tired

so tired

I will leave night to my dreams

Perhaps tomorrow I will know

On Words to the Truth

On Words to the Truth

By: Heather Nanni

When we can no longer                                                                       

dance and play      

we are left with words                                                                             

Only words to say                                                                                  

Truth

 

Words and truth    

Oh what folly!

 

Intellect                                                                                                   

arsenic                                                                                                  

Add it to the wine                                                                                      

So we drink and dine                                                                           

We feast on lies                                                                                    

and we think

 

Of honest days                                                                                 

when we danced and played                                                               

and now 

 

round and round and round we go                                                        

the truth, the truth                                                                             

words cannot tell

 

So we twist and bend                                                                            

we turn and convolute                                                                            

and say and say                                                                              

nothing                                                                                                        

No truth

 

Just words upon words                                                                         

we feast                                                                                                

And we think, we deceive                                                                     

And we search                                                                                     

For what?                                                                                             

For what?                                                                                         

What?

 

We do not know                                                                                   

For left with only words                                                                          

the self cannot show                                                                          

itself                                                                                                          

its truth

 

 

 

Tale of the Child’s Night

CYMERA_20140503_211804.jpg Chilld's Night

Tale of the Child’s Night

By: Heather Nanni

“May we look at the stars Mommy?”                                                  

“Yes Love”                                                                                           

Eyes Up

 

We were three                                                                                       

All the delights                                                                                       

two could see

 

The moon showed us                                                                        

the silver platter and said,                                                                      

“Come, come to me.                                                                           

Oh how happy you will be.”

 

But one poor soul                                                                                

The moon swallowed him whole

 

Some skip on stars                                                                          

over night’s great river

 

But for others                                                                                        

that cannot be                                                                                         

They get caught by the Hunter                                                            

and carried out to the sea