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Dean Koontz Poetry

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1945-present

    

Cold Fire

In the real world
as in dreams,
nothing is quite
what it seems.

---

Life without meaning
cannot be borne.
We find a mission
to which we're sworn
- or answer the call
of Death's dark horn.
Without a gleaning
of purpose in life,
we have no vision,
we live in strife,
- or let blood fall
on a suicide knife.

---

Nowhere can a secret keep
always secret, dark and deep,
half so well as in the past,
buried deep to last, to last.

Keep it in your own dark heart,
otherwise the rumors start.

After many years have buried
secrets over which you worried,
no confidant can then detray
all the words you didn't say.

Only you can then exhume
secrets safe within the tomb
of memory, of memory,
within the tomb of memory.

---

In the real world
as in dreams,
nothing is quite
what it seems.

---

Vibrations in a wire.
Ice crystals
in a beating heart.
Cold fire.

A mind's frigidity:
frozen steel,
dark rage, morbidity.
Cold fire.

Defense against
a cruel life
death and strife:
Cold fire.

 
The Bad Place

Every eye sees its own special vision;
every ear hears a most different song.
In each man's troubled heart, and incision
would reveal a unique, shameful wrong.

Stranger fiends hide here in human guise
than reside in the valleys of Hell.
But goodness, kindness and love arise
in the heart of the poor beast, as well

for poetry from dean koontz book "the book of counted sorrows" go to the link http://www.hamster.dk/~hem/book.html#midnight