Category: Poetry

Woodland Storm

Roots crisscross in blind display;

Quickly rain each crevice fills,

Feeling through the dirt and clay,

Giving life in joyous rills.

 

Sending creatures to their homes

In warmth to wait and listen –

Thunder laughs and slowly roams

To warn of lightning’s glisten.

 

Soon the storm from woodland flees;

Drops come dripping to the earth,

Breathing faint the gentle breeze

Filled with scents of life and mirth.

 

07.24.19

Oil Black

Oil black that runs below,

Blood of hearts when lifeless squeezed,

River night in ceaseless flow:

Souls of men by tyrants seized.

 

Bridges cross and so do we;

Some shall fall and all shall rot.

None untouched, or living free:

Souls of those in currents caught.

 

Darkness swells, I swim in vain,

Fighting deep for every breath;

Giving in despite the pain:

Soul of one now doomed to death.

 

04.16.19

Waking Up this Morning

Waking up this morning,

Climbing out of bed;

Staring in the mirror

At my sleepy head.

 

Going through the motions,

Packing up my stuff;

Trusting in the notion

That I can be enough.

 

Enough all on my own,

Enough to do my tasks,

Enough while all alone,

Enough! Enough! Enough with all the masks.

 

Crushed by all the sadness,

Pushed beyond my strength;

Caused by my own selfish

Need to self-sustain.

 

04.09.19

Passing

A man lay down to rest one day.

The sun was low and breezes blew.

Across the plain, they took their way;

The grasses stirring as they flew. 

 

They dashed headlong with strength unmatched.

Their breaking waves then fell unseen,

And filled the poor man’s garments, patched,

As though a silent living stream. 

 

The clothing sighed, a ragged lot,

Until the sun in glory died.

They settled still and cracked with rot,

As if the streams within them dried. 

 

The stars look down and slowly pass

Above the man beneath the grass.

 

12.03.18

Best Foods

The life of men would not do well

If it were not for sweet potatoes.

This awesome food tastes really swell,

I owe a debt to sweet potatoes.

 

The same for buds high on a tree,

They grow and turn to tasty pears.

I had the flu and they cured me,

I love the juice of tasty pears.

 

Pondering my prized propitious pear,

Bobbing for potatoes, pomme de terre.

 

05.03.12

Thief

One day in class, I lost my chair;

Some blonde with curls was sitting there.

I stopped and stared in disbelief,

What could I say to such a thief?

 

She looked at me, a smile flashed,

So I forgave her with a laugh.

But as I went to find a seat,

Her shining eyes kept watching me.

 

I froze. I blanked. I smiled back.

I nearly had a heart attack.

She laughed. She glowed. She looked away.

I’m still in shock unto this day.

 

02.22.18