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Best Poems From
YEN CRESS
(3/9/43)
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1.
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Salute to an American Soldier
I salute you, Soldier!
You are doing a job I cannot do
To protect
The values I treasure
And the beautiful land
I call Home.
There are things worth fighting for-
Important things
Like freedom
And justice
And the right to live
In safety
In the way one chooses
In the place one chooses.
There are things worse than war-
Terrible things
Like oppression
And unbridled power
And cruelty
Against the innocent
Against the weak
Against anyone.
So fight, Soldier.
Fight with courage
And honor
And the knowledge that it is right.
You do what has to be done.
You bring new glory
To Old Glory.
I am proud of you.
I pray for you.
I cheer you on.
I stand behind you
With my whole heart.
I salute you, Soldier.
Yen Cress
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2.
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Soul Search (Villanelle)
Inside myself I tried to look
To find the source of all my pain,
And all the earth around me shook.
I tried to find whence flowed the brook
That bubbled hurt and left a stain:
Inside myself I tried to look.
All friends and lovers I forsook
That solitude might lead to gain,
And all the earth around me shook.
Such precious, cautious care I took
But every effort was in vain,
And all the earth around me shook.
My motives everyone mistook-
My searching went against the grain.
Inside myself I tried to look,
And all the earth around me shook.
Yen Cress
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3.
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Act 3
Many years ago now, she was young and alive,
And she thought, without doubt, soon her ship would arrive;
So she bided her time, learning how to survive,
Till she fitted right in like a bee in a hive.
She had friends who were colorful, friends who were bright.
They worked hard in the daytime and partied at night.
She was happy and free, in those days of delight,
Then a new cast of characters came into sight.
Evil circled around her like nothing she'd seen
As an innocent child playing catch on the green-
Ruthless dealers in drugs-getting rich, acting mean,
Shedding blood, catching victims-and her in between.
What a farce she played out as she fought for her soul
On a stage set with horror-a bottomless hole!
She was smiling and smooth and appeared rather droll.
She was laughing and gay, while her spirit they stole!
Now she sits here and wonders with tears in her eyes
Why she dallied with danger and listened to lies.
All those actors on stage had a dark enterprise-
They were merchants of death in seducing disguise!
She was caught in their trap with a lifetime to grieve,
For she listened to tales they continued to weave
With a pretense of caring while they made her believe.
They entwined her sweet spirit until she couldn't leave.
Is there anyone list'ning? Can anyone hear?
In this black-curtained playhouse, her cries disappear.
For no matter how heartfelt, no matter how clear,
Drama played in the dark cannot hope for a cheer.
She performs for an audience lost in a trance.
They have honored her show with no more than a glance,
Caring not that this tragedy cost her her chance
For a lifetime of happiness, health, and romance.
What a waste! What a shame! What a crime to the soul!
Yet the hearts of the audience harden like coal.
They have seen it before, gloomy role after role,
And the plot is the same, on that stage like a hole.
Have you seen it yourself? Are you touched? Are you sad?
Do those actors pull tears? Do they make you feel mad?
Do you think, as you watch each young miss and each lad,
That the plot is a hoax, the director is bad?
It's your turn to react-not to sleep in your seat!
Let's get rid of those liars-each dealer, each cheat!
Give our young ones a chance to know joy, life complete.
Send the demons and drugs to the hell of defeat!
Yen Cress
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4.
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Apocalypsis
Kindled by the sun-warmed high-desert soil
Bright patches
Glow on untamed hillsides.
Is this the edge of the world?
What lies beyond
This vermilion brilliance?
Is this a portent of
The raging fires of hell?
Hot and flaming,
Almost smell of smoke,
Of scorched flesh
And singed hair
Assaults the senses.
Or perhaps the splendid spread
Reflects the glorious gleam
Of heaven's infinitely broad
Golden boulevards.
What lies beyond these poppy fields?
Yen Cress
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