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Death Autumn Poems | Death Poems About Autumn

These Death Autumn poems are examples of Death poems about Autumn. These are the best examples of Death Autumn poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Indian Ink

“Indian Accent”

Hear the whispers inside

Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow

A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices falling from the sky
Rising hymns release ancient demons that cling to the soul

The darkness dwells under gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World,
Exposing Indian hands that weave native smoke into the air
Their spirits taunting burrows from the muddy Earth
Moccasin makers rise from underneath
Guardians of dream catchers
Smooth thread from the outer edge, bowing heads.
Luminous gems of ivory,
Chasing a florid kiss.

Through the winds of enchanted drums, voices cry out for rain.
The hollow chimes mesmerize  
An ancient rage begins to flare
Stale madness, 
The spears of the perfumed buffalo skin pierced my senses
Removing the veils that cover my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Washing the scalp that bleeds on my face
They collect tears from memories of the past.

KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!

Raven silk braids, feathers fall from my hair.
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly.

I AM A BIRD!

By; PD


Details | Verse | |

Will Shepard

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
His barn burned to the soil;
The flames licked at the Autumn sky,
The smoke as black as oil.
I dropped the torch onto the earth,
And felt the whole world turn,
I stood and watched Will Shepard’s barn,
I stood and watched it burn.

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
I set his horses free,
They galloped over grass and sand,
They galloped to the sea;
I dropped my whip onto the floor
And thoughts turned to my gun
I stood and watched Will Shepard’s herd,
I stood and watched them run.

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
I put him in the ground,
My bullets found his heart and brain,
He fell without a sound;
And as his lifeblood ebbed away
And light fled from his eyes,
I stood and watched Will Shepard leave,
I stood and watched him die.

And now I sit here in my cell
And through the bars I spy
The carpenter with wood and nails,
Who builds my gallows high;
My vengeance has been satisfied
As far as I can see,
For that old dog Will Shepard shot
Meant all the world to me.


Details | Free verse | |

Anticipation


What the Quack!
I dont want my poems in Poem Zoo!
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Details | Narrative | |

when autumn comes

here, where I walk,
confused silence swirls around my feet,
and the anguished summer leaves
are lingering limp, waiting for autumn...,
waiting to crumble and mingle with earth
drunk with the morning dew

somewhere beneath them
under the thunder
earth wears the scab of a fresh wound
in a place that will not be forgotten...
corrupt with mourning
sprouting with questions
immersed with regret
hollowed with anger
and shadowed by trees of despair

birch-bark faces, heads bent low, shadowed eyes
stone-cold voices, carried in the wind, behind disguise
while mute birds watch without a song
the leaves will decay, green goes, and the eye forgets
forget?  never....
while pawing on the hard and bitter earth
of reason, is impossible...

autumn comes
and autumn goes
I will live in hope that baffled minds
will clearly see a winter sun
and give up blaming ... who?



_________________________________


Details | Narrative | |

Tea is Served

In a lovely corner of her garden, 
 a trellis was curled with rose climbing vines,
  and something enchanting, had been designed, 
     from an ordinary day on a warm afternoon.

Tea would be served, with her large knuckled hands, 
to a bouquet of her friends, and some neighbors of mine,
by the most gentile’ lady, I have ever known…

She made it seem like days of old, when decorum was in fashion, 
      before composure, and poise,.. had become scorned and cold
          where propriety still mattered, as precious as gold.
                                                      ~
Lilting voices would chatter like the birds on the wing.
Ringing with laughter,  across fragrant grass, 
Flower frocked ladies, around a few scattered tables. 
Linens and laces, under ashes and maples.
Silver coifed hairdos, with apple cheeked faces, 

                    And me?   There I'd sip.... quite out of my place... 
                      watching it all, from the cool dappled shade.
                                                      ~
There were delightful surprises to meet the eye…
Delicate confections, cucumber sandwiches,
made by her hand, just for the occasion.
Fragrant branches, covering the veranda.…
Rose petal blossoms, painted on china.  
The most beautiful tea set, oh, how divine it was! 
Envious eyes, covetously pined for it!

She wore a floppy garden hat, a dress of mauve, and there she sat.
Her weathered skin, her cheeks of rouge... a smile to love,...you would have too,...
She had lived a war, and more than one.....iron strong, a generous heart
Knowing eyes, and sparkling wit, 
She would hold your hand in hers and smile,... listen well, of that I'm sure
  and then would sip and chat awhile, of this and that…
                                                         and you would learn of love somehow
                                                      ~

I sipped my tea, and watched it all, and never thought of future things. ~

For now I sit here all alone…the chatter gone, the birds have flown.
Where once her charm, her love of life
the grand old ways, have slipped away…gone are those days, she loved so well.

Soon after, in the autumn chill…when word soon spread that she was ill 
      I was away, and never knew.….I hope, oh Lord, she was not alone ….

And looking back …I think of that….. and how strange the fact….. how odd it is…..
that something owned by someone grand, a china cup, so delicate, 
                                                                                 so fragile in the hand,
can last beyond the grave...intact,….
                    although a dear, enchanting friend, her life would have to end…..

                                                     ~ ~


_______________________________________________________
For Contest Sponsored by Just Archaic Poet:  Song choice- "Tea For Two"


Details | Personification | |

In Silence

And so it was that Autumn would die with a gust of wind she said goodbye Of love mortal she sits subdued sipping remnants of death imbued With curtains drawn she lay in rest in silent prose she relived each breath of life abandoned of weary roads where Winter's freeze would glisten alone And so it was that Autumn had gone in the lonely grips of winter without a song


Details | Free verse | |

Fading from life

it’s always august’s end
september’s beginning
that bothers me the most

i feel that brush of cool air
press against me
like a kiss on dead lips

the trees are now painted 
a sunset’s reflection
but all i see is red
in summer’s end

the leaves dance gracefully
beneath the winds
one last time
before they fall

the trees will soon stand 
blank of life
like you and you and you
and my mind
as i remember
each ending
as i watched them 
fall from life
amongst summer’s end



09/07/13


Details | Rengay | |

Deciduous

Dancing breezes
Bursts of sun
Crisp apple autumn day

Leaves twirl upwards with a flourish
Spurning twigs that yearn to cling

Lovers pass by, their laughter lingers
Dark clouds obscure the sun
Colors change to shadows blurred

Gone is the beauty in the rust and gold
Longing is found in the chill as the sky surrenders
One drop of rain falls and a lonely blackbird takes wing

Windblown and cold
I breathe in your sweater's scent

Never more
Will you reach out to intercept
A falling leaf  





____________________________________________________________________________
Collaboration between Sharon Weimer and Carrie Richards
                 for Debbie Guzzi's "Twining" contest 


Details | Heroic Couplets | |

Saint Blackheart

Saint Blackheart walks the Autumn streets and smiles with diamond eyes;
   She's well-aware of what you think, but listens to your lies.
Confess your deepest fantasies or never look her way --
   She's free with random kindness, though she won't have much to say.

Saint Blackheart seeks the shadows for the secrets they impart.
   Her life's a patchwork puzzle made with jagged shards of art --
Impressionistic paintings on a canvas dipped in red;
   She dances like a demon for the angels in her head.

Saint Blackheart loves the twilight and the elemental rain;
   She'll stand and watch you suffer, yet she senses all your pain.
A soft, Franciscan echo making up a primal scream
   Can hurtle from her crimson lips and dart from dream to dream.

Saint Blackheart lives in solitude among the ancient trees --
   You'll find her there within the mist, but never on her knees.
Her hands will offer nothing which is not her own to give;
   And though you wish to die in peace, she may just let you live.

Saint Blackheart will not weep with you or wipe away your tears,
   Yet she may catch their crystal hue and treasure it for years.
She'll lay a little flower on a long-forgotten grave --
   A tribute to the tortured soul she never tried to save.


Details | Rhyme | |

Trumpet Call

My heart is the same full of love
     My house that shelters it full of pain
But it's autumn in my life, Dove
      The hair of gray and wrinkles reign

I set the table full of food
        For the family to dine fun times
But it is autumn in my life
       When changes prepare for winter

I'm not sure I'll know winter now
        For I have not experienced it
But it's autumn in my life somehow
        Where beauty glows bright from the depths

Producing leaves of many hues
       Love the autumn of my life, Dove
Now all that's left winter's white snow
        I think that when winter comes cold

Plants freeze if left out in weather
      They will need a warmer place inside
But since it is just autumn now
       There's time to prepare room somehow

I still watch the birds from window
       They have not all gone away love
But it's autumn in my life now
        Soon most will be gone for winter

Winter soon will approach with cold
       Seemingly death of the roses
But it's autumn in my life my bold
       There are few thoughts of approaching winter

But when winter comes my way
        The body rest to rise another spring
Now it's autumn in my life this day
         On another day I'll be called by trumpet away


Details | Rhyme | |

Stone Flowers

Posted - 08/18/2005 :  16:22:45       


In north-west Indiana
on a meager patch of ground,
stone flowers greet the morning,
stillness there, no other sound.

I walk among the headstones
taking note of those I knew,
thinking about their loved ones,
how their courage saw them through.

There is no stone to guide me
to the one I came to see,
his ashes had been scattered
on a hill of sapling trees.

Thirty years have come and gone,
he would surely be amazed,
little trees, now fully grown,
all aglow in autumn blaze.

I stand in awed silence
as the sun comes streaming through,
my Father was my best friend
and the greatest man I knew.

 


Details | Free verse | |

CEZANNE STUDY - The House of the Hanged Man

CEZANNE STUDY – The House of the Hanged Man

Late Autumn

Buried in a hill,
Steep as descent from humanity,
A country house stands.
It’s late autumn,
Deep, sick autumn –
Deep as the plunging cellar door,
And fronting, its branches stripped, begging skyward,
This raped tree
Which no longer hides the window –
The window, like a large, trumpeting mouth.
*No E flat clarinet here,
*No Eulenspiegel, opaque humor.
No – The whole, a ground interment,
Is color of rotting flesh,
This God-awful house!

*Til Eulenspiegel was a German buffoon who delighted in playing
nasty tricks on the nobility. He was hanged.
*The E flat clarinet is high pitched, capable of sounding the pitiful
cries of Til as he mounts the scaffold 






Details | Narrative | |

Remembering The Children of Beslan

It was the first day of the new school year
The children of Beslan had no need to fear
In anticipation they eagerly left home for school
Some walked hand in hand with Mom and Dad
Others skipped along the well known path
Excitement filled the sidewalks and the streets
As fleeting thoughts collided in mid air

Some thought of new friends to be made
Others of old friends with whom to play
A little sister left at home 
Of baby brother asleep in his crib
Much too young to run and play
Some favorite lullabies which Grandmama sang 
As Grandpapa played his violin

The first day of the new school year
Mothers beamed with such pride
How their little ones had grown
Never would they ever want to let go
Others gave in to their children’s cries
‘Mamma, I do not want to go to school.
May I stay with you today?’

On wings of hate evil had already arrived 
With diabolical plans and bombs in hand
To maim and murder the children of Beslan
Who became captives in their little school house
After the dastardly deed was done
Dreams and aspirations lay splattered 'cross the floor 
Childhood innocence forever vanished! 

On the day of internment the sun in his temple hid
Earth wept pouring rain, her bitter tears
As Mothers’ voices cracked and strained 
Cried out loud, their children’s names
While others pleaded in vain for death
Fathers in a state of shock stood stoically in the cold autumn rain
Wearing faces carved in stone

The blood of children cried out to Heaven
Where at the throne of mercy 
Sits a God who is just 
Though their bodies lay broken in tiny white coffins
On angels' wings their souls did ascend  
He will judge all men and their deeds 
All, on one appointed day

A tribute to the children of Beslan, No. Ostetia, Russia 9/1-3/ 2004


Details | Couplet | |

Autumn

Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind
Memories and places they haunt yet again
Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf
Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream
A current to carry from birth right on through
Filling our moments with cares which ensue
A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends
Babies and children and time long since spent
Familiar, intangible, just out of reach
Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech
Winter is looming and summer is past
A time for remembrance the years gone so fast
Beauty is captured in my last breath of life
The sparkling colors in the warm golden light
Do mimic the glory and wonder be told
In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold
 


Details | Kyrielle | |

HERE WE GO, HERE WE GO

tick-tock  tick-tock
times edges the Seasons around
tick-tock  tick-tock
outdoors ,Summer sounds
tick-tock  tick-tock
times edges the months around
tick-tock  tick-tock
the Autumn harvest abounds
tick-tock  tick-tock
times edges the weeks around
tick-tock  tick-tock
Winter freezes the ground
tick-tock  tick-tock
times edges the days around
tick-tock  tick-tock
then Spring renewal is found
tick-tock  tick-tock
times edges the years along
tick-tock  tick-tock
what will be our song
tick-tock  tick-tock
times edges all,towards another place
tick-tock tick-tock
life eternal,comes only by grace
tick-tock  tick-tock


Details | Rhyme | |

He Can't Tell Her Now

He is playing in school
Acting like a fool
Little girl makes his heart go Wow!!
He is kind of shy
She's the apple of his eye
But he can't tell her now.
It is a few years later
And he starts to date her
She fills his dreams somehow
He wants her to stay
To never go away
But he can't tell her now.
It is the secret of his life
He wants her for his wife 
He would take that final vow
Though the years go by so fast
He knows his love will last
But he can't tell her now.
Now in the Autumn of his years
He realizes his fears
That life has past them by somehow
He knows his love will stand
As he touches her cold and lifeless hand
But he can't tell her now.

    Of all the emotions we go through in life, the saddest is regret.


Details | Verse | |

The Solemn Wraith That Passes

The solemn wraith that passes, 
once a child whose life in stasis 
fell, cursed by the cruel kiss of fate, 
scuds as the Autumn clouds across 
the full moon of the grieving mind.

Disappearing as the Winter snows 
when Spring rain drills the grey repose, 
young victim of an adult hate, 
in memory you still bear the loss; 
each sorrowed thought serves to remind. 

The solemn wraith that passes, 
wept and shadowed like molasses, 
fixes at your throat an amulet 
and holds there fast the albatross, 
the cross-born love of womankind.


Details | Epitaph | |

my angel

i met you in the springtime when the flowers were in bloom
and i knew yyou were my angel when you walked into the room
i knew that god had sent you down on the wings of a big white dove
just to be with only me and tto bring angelic love

our hands were ever so entwined and united were our hearts
we knew that we would walk together until death did we part
when sprringtime turned to summer we were happy as could be
and i just could not imagine all the love you had for me

now when summer turned to autumn and we felt the gentle breeze
i was ever so elated because you were still with me
but the time has turned the pages and i am so all alone
today god sent other angels just to guide my angel home


Details | Elegy | |

Autumn Leaves

I first met Autumn when I was very, very young,
she was just a shy, quiet girl, but so very bright.
These maple trees were our favorite to play among,
as our laughter faded away with the falling sunlight.

I can still see her brown sweater, and reddish-orange hair,
blowing around her smiling face, like a flickering flame.
Her innocent voice still whispers on October's cool air,
near the place, where our lonely swing remains the same.

As the summer days said goodbye, and welcomed September,
the death of my dear, young friend came all too soon.
Autumn was one of those whom you'd always remember,
her soul was as beautiful as the shining, harvest moon.

She was here, then gone, leaving words that were never spoke,
to this day, I have never understood why Autumn had to leave.
Her presence lingers on the wind, like drifting wood-smoke,
as once a year, her playful spirit arises on All Hallow's Eve.




August, 4th, 2014


Details | Rhyme | |

Why all this Destructions

Why all this Destructions? – Zamreen Zarook

God created this whole universe for the mankind,
He gave everything lavishly, thinking that we might be kind,
Even though people are able, they seems to be blind,
Whereas people failed to mind.

The sky which was created for the man started to scream and cry,
Since good morals and ethics were decry,
The fire started to do the mimicry,
As the water lands cannot bear, it came to man with a battle cry.

Land couldn't hold and it started to gorge,
Fresh air merged with chemicals and started to urge,
Whatever created for the man have started to over charged,
Stop evil and let the merits be enlarged.


Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Autumnal Dirge: Translation of Paul Verlaine's Chanson d'automne

Autumnal Dirge

(One of many possible translations* of « Chanson d’automne » by Paul Verlaine)

	for Sandra Feldman

Drawn out sobs
Violins
   of autumn
Wound my heart
Through a languor
    Monotonous

Hardly breathing
And turning wan, when
    The knell tolls,
I recall
Days gone by
   And I cry

And I have to leave
With the unwelcome wind
   Which bears me away
Here now, there then
Much as  a
   (Wafting) Dead leaf.

•	This is as close to a literal translation as I can get, for I do think the original visual structure ought not to be disturbed and as long as the poet’s « meaning » (Intentional fallacy/Affective fallacy notwithstanding), if any, be not overly distorted.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013


Details | Classicism | |

Flight of Fall

As I lay one sullen autumn morn
on pearl dew turf with the day unborn
staring at the grey grimacing sky
with the mood and moment not quite high
sepulchral static wherever I looked
when my dreary dizzy gaze was hooked
at a lone leaf's death-descent down
to join its wilted kin on ground
then a sudden silent slithering breeze
deprived me of my warmth and ease
and the disturbed withered shroud of Fall
hustled revived in a rustling brawl
hurled and curled in the fading mist
till the whispering winds chose to desist
but Nature lies dead once again
until the wind resumes,retrieves restrain
and I know this flight of life is brief
for I'm none other than a fallen leaf.


Details | Ballad | |

Antigone

I am the face of misery
My life, a dissonance of autumn and spring,
The years are written in the same
Lugubrious, nostalgic grey
How can it be the author to blame?
I cannot scream this all away…
Burn nor Bleed this all away…
To Death I am Ordained

Lacuna ever growing
With Velvet sheets of life flowing
Aeons apart of my "royalty"
Under the mask the cannot see...
Can you dispel this tragedy:
Antigone - Epiphany failing

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

No words of hope
No words of hate
Do I have Lenore to send to me:
The sordid child of Thebes
Caught In the longest nightmare
life - the slowest way to die

I know this is my life 
But I'm not under control
under the mask the will see
Just Another Human

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

Can you dispel my life; this tragedy?
Can you control the storm in my mind?
I'm asking you: can you rid me
Of The Curse of Antigone?


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

if i had one last minute Dad

  If I could tell you just one last thing 
  I would tell you Dad, I wish I had more time with you 
  you taught me how to stand tall , do things the right way 
  If I could tell you Dad , before you flew your plane that Day..

  You had asked me to go , and many times I wish I did .
  For my fate would be as yours and Friend , Death,  by a crash in the end.
  I think what was so hard for me Dad , is I always felt something special 
  This was only something you could give me Dad ,  no other ..
  
  Since you left September 4th , a bitter afternoon , not just losing you , myself  too.
  I lost you Dad, maybe I could have told you not to fly your plane that day..
  Or maybe you were just too good for this World , and could not stay ..
  For I have found many judgments in life , no one builds me up like you did .

  If I had just more minute , after your remains were discovered after 9 months 
  I would hold you , and tell you I love you , Please don't go , just stay with me.
  And still , I can't let go . If I could just free my soul.. Dad, if I had just one more minute .
 
  In Honor of "Thomas Francis Kelley " your proud Son , Mark L. Kelley, 
  wrote by; Shanity Rain. 
  I hope your playing Golf in Heaven so when I get there , we can play 9 holes.


Details | Free verse | |

the color of october

it's October
the air around her is cool
like her thoughts these days
she looks at the branches, twisted
much like her mind
they are reaching upward
but she is grounded
forever in time
 
she heard the clatter of branches
smacking against walls
and the crash of metal
screeching brakes
screams of pain
and then nothing
but silence falls
 
she  runs to the window
sees the audience
stare at her
then through her
riches to rags
gold to nothing
her fame is gone
 
the trees below are turning
from gold to red
the leaves tossed about
in a slight wind
they spin
so graceful as in dance
a slow spiral down
and she longs to join in
 
she reaches towards them
tastes the cool air
as she falls down
grounded with the leaves
 
the pavement turns red
as silence falls
in October's air
 
 
 
 

The suicide of Dorothy Hale
October 21, 1938
(painting by Frida Kahlo)


Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.


Details | Couplet | |

When Shadows Fall

Summer is on the turn, into Autumn we now head So close this day approaches, inside many heads now dread We now view through our eyes, our windows of life What do we see now, do we absorb our awaiting strife Be like me and others and listen to peripheral sounds It's what we have come to know, it's us all around Day by day we view, the turning of life's greenery But what are we going to see after, on this future days scenery Is it intrepid anticipation, human wondering entering it's abyss We're the blind leading our blind, just what do we make of this *~* The eve of this reckoning day, in hourly wait we await Autumn has taken it's turn, are us humans in use by date This morning we have awaited, curtains drawn I view There's something different about the sunrise, sees me a through From my balcony I witness, now seeing from where I am Shape shifting no longer applies, I just don't understand In sorrow fill hungered loss, I lose life's lust for thrall From my balcony I now witness, I view when shadows fall *~* Inspired by "Touchstone's" <> "When Shadows Fall" from their album "The City Sleeps"


Details | Rhyme | |

The Darkness Where I Lie

Witness now the darkening sky,
leaves of autumn darting by,
red so pure, they make me cry,
against the blackness where I lie.

At dusk the sky is oddly lit,
clouds of gray with purple bits,
heavy sky, as I sit,
wondering when my heart will quit.

Morbid thoughts match the scene,
as I against my pillows lean,
in life and death, I'm in between,
the sky, I think, knows what I mean.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Wound

When my mother died
My craving eyes rained
And tormented soul cried
Blood sucked and energy drained

The sky fell, the sun eclipsed
It was a horrifying dark day
The fragrant breeze turned into easterly wind
O God! Orphaned at the age of twelve, why say

The spear of loneliness pierced my heart
Causing deep bleeding wound
Pointed at me was misfortune’s dart
All my hopes and aspirations drowned

Seasons came and seasons went
In the desert of heart autumn never changed
Gardens were filled with bloom’s scent
The butterflies with colors artfully arranged

My heart remained a symbol of despair
No one ever shared my grief
My cancerous wound alone to bear
I searched and searched but no relief

(Winner in the Member Contest of Destroyer Poet judged on 6-20-2012)


Details | Free verse | |

If I Shall Grow Old 2K13

If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.


Details | Free verse | |

Work

Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Details | Quatrain | |

Ode To Autumn

Autumn is my favorite season,
The green leaves are turning red,
Falling with no rhyme or reason,
They are crisp, gnarled, and dead.

Lightly they fall in the chilly air,
The leaves are brown, orange, and yellow,
Brightly, they tumble without a care,
Indian summer days are beginning to mellow.

Gray clouds form, you rarely see the sun,
Through tree branches, see the cold wind blow,
The leaves come cascading down, one by one,
And, at any minute now, it could start to snow.


Details | Free verse | |

I Remember

She had beautiful hands, I remember
Strong and brown and crude under the choking lamplight 
that wintry autumn of the potato blight
I saw them cringe and turn over and over 
She thought I’d fallen asleep, but no
I watched her silently in the dark, well past midnight.

Her hair was rich and long, I remember
Coarse and uncombed and tangled on sweaty afternoons
One sweltering midsummer before the monsoons
we crouched in the fields and together worried
Masses of hair spidered across her wet cheeks
Sweat or something else, running down those weathered prunes.

She had eyes like the sea, I remember
Stormy and clouded and murmuring of a shipwrecked sorrow
That spring day the wind swept away the morrow
she stood with her back to me and hung her head
I saw her weak frame jolting and stiffening
and my infant heart was splintered by an invisible arrow.

Her voice was a melody through the reeds, I remember
For fifty years her lips could give only sighs
Unbroken silence shivering beneath frozen skies
Her throat rippled when she looked at my blossoming face
Quivered and quivered in a song of muted melancholy
Then one day away she flew, like a flower, without goodbyes.


Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Leaves

Trees shed

Their Autumn Leaves.

 

Autumn Leaves-

That fall,

That twirl

And then embrace the ground.

 

Autumn Leaves-

That flood

The pathways I tread

And the horizon I see.

 

Amidst them, I halt

Amongst them, I sit,

Stare and admire

Them as they shower from trees.

 

I listen to them,

As they rustle,

And cuddle

In the soothing autumn breeze.

 

Wondrous it is to listen

To the tales they tell,

Tales spelled in their toungless accents

Tales that are the soul of each of those

Falling, twirling, rustling

Autumn Leaves.


Details | Free verse | |

The Last Oak Leaf

My heart goes out to the last Oak leaf
The one that clings until the early spring
When the buds swell giving a nudge
The last leaf that falls onto the earth 

The new bud full of vitality__youth comes forth
To experience life_spring green_then summer's depth
Fall comes to it bringing the color of autumn russet
The cycle has nearly gone full circle__winter slowly moves in the last leaf falls


Details | Free verse | |

September Weather

Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.

Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.

From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.

September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.

But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.

I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.

Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.

I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.

Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.

September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.

I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.


Details | Kimo | |

Among the Fallen Leaves of Rust

Wind sings a dirge where leaves have turned to rust. In the autumn of his life my dear friend has left me. As I release his ashes to the wind, they scatter like dust among the fallen leaves of rust.
For the Contest of Rick Parise: "Rust"


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Tragic Feather

Oh, tragic feather what is thy tragedy
No longer freedom gay or certian loft
How is this thy new translation
From a majesty, unto a wing thou hath mighty dropped

Were thou thus, shunned, cast away 
Or merely, cut out or off
As limb from downward spiral angel
Perhaps, a troubled finch or insanity in wayward hawk

Lie, if thou must, be it amidst a deafening silence, lonesome soft
But, I plead, please tell me fallen feather, what hath befallen thee
Thy tuft to ne’er evermore touch again
What life should be, warmth of the summer's breeze

Sleep, sleep now 'neath the alley's gutter greys 
Catching Weeping Willows damning drops
Adrift as the drowning lily dying
In seas of the myriad scattered rots

An accomplice I shall say, within a winter's willing white
And alas, buried ordinary in this doth the corpse delight
Far beneath the crowds held at bay and forever lost
Now thou hath become the naked grove of wicker and then...
                                   the more of naked souless crops


Details | Free verse | |

Death

The autumn sun has risen
But yet to attain high noon-
Make hay, my roses fair.
I would not be happy to see you,
Decaying with the hasting day.
I have short time as you.
Growing too quickly to decay,
Dying as the summer’s rain-
As the pearls of morning’s dew
Never to be seen again as I’m.
 ======================


Details | Lyric | |

Scarlet Moons and Indian Suns

Written August 29, 2013


She could have had my son
As we'd spell our names as one
On scattered ocean shores
Beneath that Indian sun

I loved my ma
And I loved her well
I loved my pa
And that musty smell

I hope to see them some day soon
I hope to see them smiling too
This Earth they left a bit too soon
Much thanks unto the scarlet moon

Some day well all be joined as one
Under scarlet moons and Indian suns

I love my family
How I miss this feeling
Of constant embrace
Awaiting at my feet

So come and pray for rain
To wash away our pain
Before the winter stains
What autumn left to drain

I hope to see them some day soon
I hope to see them smiling too
This Earth they left a bit too soon
Much thanks unto the scarlet moon

Some day well all be joined as one
Under scarlet moons and Indian suns


Details | Free verse | |

In my grave

A weak shout louder than a gun shot
Out of a mouth full of depressed misery and dead emotions
A walk to infinity
A search for the light in a place so bright, yet so dark
Between sun light and dawn
Where birds sing for roses

Away in distance
Where destiny lead my way

It's going to be okay
Last words my ears choose to hear
To relieve the pain in my heart
Darkness filled my eyes
Don't try to make it shine
I smell the end
I feel the tears of grief drowning me alive

I lay down in my coffin
Under the soil
In the freezing ground
Isolated from all around
No need to make a sound
Or wear the mask that hides what's beneath

Surrounded with woods
beneath the ground just as I was
Tossed as a stone
Like a leaf fallen from an autumn tree into a lake so deep
With my skinless skull and wrist bones where cuts of regret cant be seen

I lay In my cave
In my only home
With my only friend
My rival my enemy
I can't let go...

Thoughts rushing into my mind
Bursting in and out
Words I never thought I'd speak
Words my tongue never dares to say
Well...now I know how it feels
Now after I'm gone

My lips are fading
My soul is drowning
My body is decaying 

I reach the limit
Where heart beats doesn't matter
Where I can't breathe the air
Where my only road is to hell
I'll bathe in fire from this day and forever

Never made you proud
Forgive me and make it better

Two roses laid on my grave
Endless time passes as the sun goes by
Nothing stirs 
Pure melody in silence
A selfish wind blows taking with it one 
and there goes one in vain dropping it to far away
I gaze through emptiness
Waiting for my eternal time to end
For my angel to appear
And save my weeping spirit from my sins
Which have become my reality...


Details | Quintain (English) | |

A Single Tear

~~ In the mist of memory comes a single tear I lingered weary and longing It was in the Autumn of the year The leaves were red and falling At your grave I stood crying ___________________________ Written, 2012 Quintain Submitted to the contest, Poems of Reality(old) 2nd place


Details | Tanka | |

Autumn


 
 
Beauty has fallen painting the pastel of love in a breath of fire below the bare heights of mist Autumn's tapestry lies strewn _______________________________ 11-4-2013


Details | Personification | |

To Be A Scythe

On the days the wind does blow life gets caught up in how things should go and winds gather up the harvest from the field to tow to blow up harvest in good flight it may freely flow but what of those who never know and never feel the warm winds of autumn blow and the scythes will never come home and all hope of good harvest is then forever gone


Details | Tanka | |

Rudolf Christian Karl Diesel (Sentanka)

He had do fight all odds
A man of unbreakable idealism
Alone with his ideas

A mysterious death at high sea
The truth will never be known
--------------------------------------------------
Gegen alle Widerstände
Ein Mann mit ungebrochenem Idealismus
Alleine mit seinen Ideen

Mysteriöser Tod auf hoher Sea
Die Wahrheit wird niemand erfahren
-------------------------------------------------
En lucha contra todas probabilidades
Un hombre de idealismo irrompible
Solo con sus ideas

Una muerte misteriosa en alta mar
La verdad nunca será conocida


Note: Rudolf Christian Karl Diesel, 1858-1913, was a German engineer and the inventor of
the Diesel engine. He spent his youth until 1870 in Paris and surroundings. When being
extradited after the start of the German-French-War in 1870, Diesel and his family left for
London. He as a child travelled alone to Augsburg, Germany were he lived for five years
with his uncle and went to school there. He started studies of mechanical engineering in
1875 in Munich and applied for a patent of a „New and economical power engine“  at the
Emperial Patent-Office  in Berlin. From 1908 on he developed the first functional model of
his engine with the financial assistance of the Krupp company. In January 1898 the first
factory for Diesel engines was built in Augsburg, Germany. A Diesel Engine Company was
inaugurated by autumn 1900 in London. The first motor vessels with a Diesel engine were
built in 1903. Diesel was at a state of bad health due to numerous patent-lawsuits. He was
not a good businessman and lost his complete fortune. On September 29th Diesel boarded the
mail-vessel Dresden to cross the Channel for Harwich to participate in a meeting of the
„Consolidated Diesel Manufacturing Ltd.“ in London. He seemed to be in a good manner when
he was last seen on board of the ship. On October 10th 1913 the crew of a Dutch 
government pilot ship saw a body drifting in the water at heavy sea. As the body was
highly decomposed, the crew only got hold of some personal belongings (a pastille box,
purse, pocket knife and a spectacle case) which were later identified as Diesel's
belongings by his son Eugen. The real cause of his death was never clarified and his
dependants never believed in suicide, but in murder  to steal Diesel's ideas. So his death
is still remains a mystery.


Details | Free verse | |

Silence

It makes no sense to 
Withdrawals what left with yesterday
Anonymous love...
We await the return of the dead,
Wondering what is it on the other side!!
Yet.. Nobody comes, and nobody speaks to us,
Silence overnight,
Without croaking frogs, without sparkling stars..
Only an abstract panel, 
Where the sky with the earth join in the line of sight
Hunger for beauty,
An explosive eager attached to the shoulders of gods,
While funeral prayers embrace yellow autumn leaves.. 
Then I asked you: do you remember when we infiltrated beneath the scrolls of time?
Ambigous destiny awaits my love
Oh, I got my soul in after life...


Details | Free verse | |

Eternal Breath

With bicycles and a big shoulder sling bag
You were there, at the other side of my fence
Throwing the paper toward me with a smile
Awarded me with a wonder-stricken time lag

I remember, you were ten and I was eight
It was in 1940, our first met
So soon later we allied
And all these times, I always sure that it was truly a fate

I remember, it was on an anesthetize Sunday morning
You put a ring on my finger when I was just seventeen
We started riding our life together in a rollercoaster of emotions 
For years you are my one and only paperboy prince charming

Today, on your grave that is shrouded by Autumn leaves
Knowing that our love surely went on endlessly
I smile and take another breath in the eyes of eternity
A splendor moment, for our memories, far away from griefs




~ Shirley Candy 
Indonesia, 11/05/2013 05.36 AM



Details | I do not know? | |

The Obscure Love

The cash and carry of love
Which summer doth requisite
When will thou birth me a dove?
Soon autumn will bid for hunt-		5
To gratify winter’s drudge
Oh! Far is the sight of spring
None can pacify better
For season flies without wings
And quick does it charm scald beauty
 Of whose time shall be pleaded?	10
As vaguely summer doth leave
Crow beckons with a caw
The womb that is long barren
Whom for eon is not loved
And in earth’s hate it joy is lost		15
Quick drains life off it victim


Details | Etheree | |

NATURE STUDY

NATURE STUDY (Etheree)

things
stipple
are diffused
pointillist view
the makings of things
reds    yellows   greens     and browns
in patch-dots of bright color
summer ends and autumn begins
a time which is both joyful and sad
death    but deep down    god’s promise of rebirth


Details | Rhyme | |

I just kissed you

A white sheet covered over the malformed head,
A cold cadaver resting on a steel bed.
They asked me to identify the remains,
But I couldn't bring myself to touch the sheet with blood stains.

If I don't look at what was there to greet me,
Your death just wouldn't, couldn't be.
I just kissed you, with a morning good-bye,
Smiling as you slowly drove on by.

My hands shook like an autumn leaf,
My glass heart frozen in perpetual grief. 
The sheet felt cold, starchly stiff,
Like the body under the sheet, I just couldn't lift .

They told me you weren't a pretty site,
But that's not true I just kissed you, in the morning light.
My palms were clammy as I lifted the starched sheet,
It had to be your dead eyes that mine would meet.
My world stopped turning I had to look away,
It couldn't  be true, I just kissed you today


Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.


The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Twist In Time

 As I stand here in front of my closet , starring in to the space...
I wonder which black dress to choose, and how I am going to face..
All the guests that will be there, at your final resting place...
I look in the mirror and what do I see  ?
But cuts and scratches all over me...
Although I don’t feel any physical pain...
Oh, what’s that I hear?... could it be rain ?
I miss you already...just what went wrong ?..
We were driving along just listening to our favorite song...
I remember the curve on that old mountain road...
And then heard the train crash... and then explode...
Time to go called out my Mother...
It was a cold November morning, and very heavy rain...
And I swear I heard the whistle of a train...
As I looked around I could see...
So many friends and family...
Standing in the crowd was Aunt Sarah and Uncle Fred...
OMG  ! I thought they were dead...
And there’s dear old Michael...
I had heard he crashed his motorcycle...
All of a sudden I saw YOU stand...
With a bright red rose, you held in your hand...
What are you doing I wanted to shout...
But then I realized what you were about...
You dropped the rose upon MY grave...
It was then I realized... You  were the one, that was saved...


Details | Free verse | |

Above the Rest

Guileless, autumn lay upon a land 
past the tiresome days of summer,
above the tender roots of jaded lawn
blanketing the bulbs for nubile spring
left in kindness ~
calling winter's winds
to rest…

Wasted are the teeth of winter
on the bloodless throat of fall, 
no dinner will the withered rent-shirt 
of well spent life make
only a soft and cozy remnant 
left in kindness ~
where winter’s hoary form
can rest…



*Inspired by Bob Quigley's tanka
Autumn's Death


Details | Free verse | |

The Oak Tree

On a meandering
road, many years ago
Our destination
unknown
We came upon an
ancient and majestic
oak
Its branches, bare
of clothing;
Autumn’s demand of
an offering to the
soil
We stopped and did
not venture forward
Observing only from
a distance
Knowing that if we
walked among its
greatness
We would not see the
fullness of its
truth
You sketched it
I sat in awe of it
Years have passed
and she is but a
memory
The tree no longer
stands except for
the lifeless
remnant,
And your sketch
A cruel beheading
I live knowing that
it's greatness,
Rooted below the
earth
Is a soul larger in
death than in life


Details | Rhyme | |

love's drowning

over waves of the sounds from the glass of the sea
comes a shreak that dispersed on a night that was cursed
and flys cold with a chill; it lands squarely on me
my eyes did turn quick and wonder about
crystal pale blue was the scenes only hue
hand to my head, filled now with doubt
but was there distress on that morn i awoke?
with the sands at my feet; on an air crisp with sleet
as the autumn sun's light had not yet full broke
the question that's posed in these ramblings you'll see
for she lay down beside during moonlight's high tide
why that night my love left, n'er a word spoke to me?


Details | Ballad | |

JOY

As the autumn of life drifts in
The lights of my eyes grow dim
With the joy of my years
Still beside me here
There is not much that I will fear

As the winter of my life arrives
My voice will be just a whisper
With the joy of my salvation
Waiting for me at the station
I will in quiet adoration kneel

In my mind spring will beckon me
The baggage  old and beat I'll leave
With the joy of my life just within sight
The constant yearning will cease
As perfect  joy will become complete
~*~




Details | Narrative | |

Up Late

-Inspired by my temporary English instructor, Mr. Phinizy <3
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Evening had diminished to night; how very quickly did She fly It is funny how quickly time passes, as if our brains tweak the clocks of life The night was of moderate warmth, and my house suffered terribly still And with the stifling heat inside, many hot questions filtered through my mind I asked myself, Where did the summer go? Why must our suns die? Why is it sweltering in September? Why has sudden anger blown her aside? I really need some sleep, thought I, looking at my face through the murky glass Tracing dark circles under my eyes, I was reminded of sagging Death longing to ensnare me Yes, Death followed me that night, dwelling upon me, boiling away the autumn breeze As I looked into my sleep-deprived eyes, I knew Death waited for my ultimate slumber, When all commemoration of time, that flew so rapidly before, suddenly just…stops. With many a sigh, I turned on the faucet, soaking my hands in the cool, flowing water I needed some relief from the heat…I needed a refreshing new idea, I needed cleansing Anything to clear my mind of the negativity daring to break me every day of my life For such depressing thoughts spewed forth like a wild river, the rapids racking my brain But these waters were not living; they were dead and hot like blue blazes of hell I turned off the faucet, for there was no Balm on this earth to sooth this soul There was no clock on this earth tweaked enough to return me to earth The warm breezes, the sickly pale cast of many thoughts had driven Her away And though the everlasting sleep of Death sounded soothing, the Balm does not assuage me… It only burns forever, in obstinate constancy; angered to the core, That night stuck in this fractured rhyme of time, I was up late…too late


Details | Free verse | |

passion and persuation

The Illuminating path's Serenade my Vision, The Blindening Rays of faithful horizon leap into me, Our Memories of togetherness clasp me to the loop of life, still I am lusting to cross-over and meet the Chaismatic-End!! After which,our souls will intertwine and remain in enlightened glory forever! Life had been an autumn full of blossoms, My love lay in my arms in unrequited glory, life was a maze of puzzled quotes, the dooming evil recruited you into its gloomy shadows, and i learn't my first chapter about death. DEATH is a slow poison gushing through time and seeping through seconds, Blistering a thousand souls, abandoning a many infants, sucking away the more needed ones, Thwarting pain and inflicting illicit wounds. BUT losing hope means losing "US" At a jerk,our infancy angel crosses over with warmth, And the hallucinating illuminating paths fade away!! And i realize my quest in this unfarthomable journey, TO LIVE,LOVE AND SUCCEED DEATH!!


Details | Free verse | |

Rakes and Flames

As the dawn expells its authoritive cast; they awake, but are abandoned. They
turn--but their friend the sun ignores  and they understand.   They commune
their relationship and part with their memories;   and sigh.

They say their good-byes in a tone of fullfilment, but aface their anxieties
toward the skies for hope; but are denied. A clouded sky brings a chill in the 
air and a rustling of rakes and flames. 

Old as hell, written in HS for publication, circa 1971 by me. When I was young in the 60's in Ohio, we burned leaves in our backyard; sometimes our household trash too. You had to be me to be there GV. Count me in as last place. Take care.  


Details | Rhyme | |

We Are Dying

we are dying
we are fading like the setting sun
we are dying
each and everyone
we are living
collecting experiences
to take or to leave behind
we are dying
in body and in mind
who are we 
a shadow of our former selves
who are we
once a treasure
now like dusty ornaments
sitting on abandoned shelves
we are dying
a little everyday
we are dying
as we lean over coffins and pray
we are living
but we know not why
we are dying
along the way we laugh and cry
we are dying
like the autumn leaves
we are dying
as we rush to live our dreams
we are dying

Forgive me for this one. I know it isn't uplifting.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Baby Fawn

A baby fawn leaps into the meadow,
I hold my breath and try not to scare.
I watch in beauty as she grazes,
And smile as she becomes aware.

She stares at me intensley,
Eyes deep with young innocence.
She slowley goes back to her grazing,
Her ears flickering to my presence.

She takes a sip from the stream,
Before she frolicks toward the trees.
She looks back at me one last time,
Then hops through the autumn leaves.

An emptyness sets inside me,
For now the fawn is gone,
Left out all on her own,
To defend herself towards harm.

To know i can't protect her,
Sets my stomach in unease.
But I tell myself she's happy,
As free as the flowing breeze.

Because sometimes to hold on,
Can hurt the one you love,
And even the sadness of her being gone,
She will be pain free from up above.


Details | Free verse | |

A twilight melody

Roar of the wind racing in a seeming halt.
A sudden rainstorm it is.
A salutation farewell to a mournful of two hearts,
Which formerly fused with love and cherish.

All the trees shed their leaves.
As they feel canticles of the broken hearted.
Sing delighted now is the devil,
For he sees another soul to seduced.

Shortly afterward in time to come,
There were a lover lying lifeless.
Covered with the golden leaves of ferns.
An evening, with poems and songs and death.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Leafraker response

Leafraker, was deep and insightful
Though through his woe, one can be spiteful
To drag his body from the depths
And succeed beyond that of the flesh
So, too he joins in mans defeat and the dawn of anew
Grasping hold of the light as darkness acts in que

The autumn leaves are a sign of a coming winter
But hark in the coming joy! For with earths fire is tinder
A conclusion, climax, end, and final adieu
Speaks of the history of a separate story starting like you
Birth!
From the great mother, her bosom springing 
A new species adjusted like Darwin’s singing!

The dead leaves shrivel and crumple underfoot!
But so to fire creates ash to pock grainy soot
As prelude does not one enjoy the coming of?
The brining about that comes from action and love?
The love of the here and now as Joseph Campbell spoke
Eternity exists with every now provoked

The fields of leaves abound ever acre in scores
but all creatures must attend to this for more
Whether hiding from beast or building an empire with decay
Others growing underneath battling the colds parley

A party exists for what gain? Only to happen again and again
Composer’s notes yield a pause only and refrain
The leafraker is a symbol of change my friend
A semblance of the spring of that’s is rapture like the wind

I say to you under starry sky tonight
Focus on what you can attain with every flicker of the light
But do not sadden when your book is at an end
Look to the new world that exists in your mind to begin
Spark! The light does reign in but wobble under a black hole
So too does the leafraker as new seasons take hold

Speak to me? For when it is spoken it came into being!

--10/18/08 in response to stimuli


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Silent Wave

A silent wave rushing inside my heart

Your hand leading me so far we won't depart

Your voice I heard in away that's taking me far

Into a silent wave rushing inside my heart.


Oh the thrill it was to hear

your voice so silent as I opened up to you

so wonderful this silent wave rushing inside my heart


I was searching for a answer to a question for so long

there it was a silent wave rushing inside my heart


Your voice Lord, in ways I never found

a silent whisper so very loud

inside my heart the silent wave replied

to me your love is so divine..


So when the shattered dreams are filling your mind

please please listen to the silent wave rushing inside your heart.


Written by:©Betty Bolden


Details | Rhyme | |

Seasons

As the Summer Sun
Is fading 
The Autumn frost
Spent three months waiting
To come and put
All those to sleep
Cherished children
I could not keep

Now the deed is
Duly done
The willows weep
With leaves, they'll shun
The summer greens
Have turned to grey
Thus winters wind
Is on it's way

Snowy blanket or,
Shroud of death
The piecing chill of
Winter's breath
I stand impatient 
"Till it be done
And see once more
When Spring 
Has Sprung

And in that day
When Sun is new
And does the job
It's destine too
My children will
All rise again
Until this cycle
Once more, begins


Details | Free verse | |

does this gun in my mouth make me look suicidal?

guilty war pigs with nowhere to hide
the shame of a nation that doesn't try
the obsession of bad to the bone
does this gun in my mouth make me look suicidal

no
not at all

die for the cause of someone elses desire to kill
blackmail and pigeonhole the stool pigeon
to finaly have a taste of rocky road
the quaking leaf you are shaking on that limb
ready to let go of the autumn wind

someone bought the farm
new names for anthrax the whitemen brought to heighten their power
does this gun in my mouth make me look suicidal?

no 
not at all

makes you look like a war pig about to do the right thing

the smiles on every childs face will haunt you for an eternity
the celebrations you persist to endure to breathe as a scapegoat for your own mercy
won't come
the lie you live can't be escaped nor washed away
alas the clouds tell the breeze of the birds wings and the flowers of bees
the smell of death and decay in the spring won't let you sleep

does this gun in my mouth make me look suicidal?

no
not at all

the string on your finger
to remind you of the note in your pocket
the one of the sign as to when and how to blow your brains out
an instructional video you don't need difficulties with
for the spider web weaving trouble
merciless doubtfull remorse of an eteernity entrapping you
the oak and ivy replacing the sadalwood and stone
soapy hands washing clean in the mud
forever and ever
to never be forgiven
unbearable good news from the sheep from the bull on parade
the massacre you want can start with you today

does this gun in your mouth make you look suicidal?

no
not at all

looks like the death of a war pig
and i get off on stuff like that

no salvation
no mercy
no love
no forgiveness

die 
in the
streets of
society
eventually
nothing will be
tolerated

does the bounty on your heads come cheap?
not really
we all add to the pot
and this obvious heart will feast
on the dirt upon the floor you belong
from this gaping hole like a wrecking ball
that crucifies us all nailed to a grudge
you call a rollercoaster

this curse of simplified things can not be undone
forever spider weaves webs
soapstone and clover
the complete take over
nothing to believe
but the death of the devil i place upon your shoulder

the gun in your mouth looks suicidal
as you creep and creak up the stairs down the hall
knock knock ding dong ding dong
father time and lady luck
offered this fate my destiny

666


Details | Light Poetry | |

As I rise this day

As I rise this day,

thoughts of you go through my mind.


I thank you for another day,

I pray I can do things your way.



The winter is in full bloom Lord,

the chill in the air today is cutting

through the trees,

The branches are crisp and the sky is cloudy,

I pray the day is warmed by your touch,

Lord,I love you so much.


The day is beginning now,

help me to live a life today

that glorifys thy name.



Written by:©Betty Bolden


Details | Free verse | |

Elegy on an Autumn Day

Change comes sometime late August, a mellow feeling to the day;
A gentle sun, offering friendship, joins me walking in the lane.
Between defiant borders of late bloomers--proud yellow, maroon, and red--
Queen Anne's lace adds frilly softness to weed hardness, a smiling  feminine face.
The gardens yield up their richness, spilling ripe bounty from over laden arms.

Peaceful is the attitude autumn offers; a tender sadness trims the edge
Where silent stone markers gently gather beneath trees' reverent, flame-haloed heads.
The year is slowly dying . . . not fast gone like these quietly remembered,  the beloved dead.

September 10, 2014


Details | Verse | |

The Red Death

The days grow shorter. With each moon-rise there
are newly deceased leaves resting on the cold,
frost-covered soil.

Their lace-like edges adorned with death's crystal kiss.
Forever red, never green again. Their death paints the forests
with vibrant colors, and no one stops to mourn the loss of life.

The trees let go of their dead outer furs, showing bare, ugly bones.
Their skeletons stand starkly against a pale winter's sky, and
only then does it seem fitting, because the bones now mourn 
the red ones, forever gone.

But after a few bitter-cold months, 
small cocoons start to form along the tree's barren limbs,
promising life during the new season.
They forget their lost red coat and sing for the green yet to come.
For they will look alive again. Forgetting the red death.
Seen as skeletons no more.


Details | Verse | |

Unfinished Love

() I read all your letters as I fall asleep each night all the words of encouragement and beauty you helped me find for time never did cease and beauty rolled away with the tide and now the relentless rain pounds deep inside For your smile that lit my heart through endless nights of despair and your poetic words that always touched gracious heights my life, I now find, is a bitter sweet song of yesterday's memories and tomorrow's alone As the morning sun comes to rise in peaceful hues of painted light where once I sat in despair, but, now I can find, a small inkling of hope as gracious memories pass through my mind Although the Lord took you home.....that cold Autumn night.... () A Brian Strand Contest


Details | Rhyme | |

WILTING AWAY

WILTING PETALS UNDER A BURNING SUN
EACH PETAL FELL ONE BY ONE
AS THE LAST PETAL FELL
A SEED DROPPED TO THE EARTH
MOURN NOT THIS DEATH
BUT CELEBRATE REBIRTH


Details | Lyric | |

Moon Light Bright

                                                     Moon Light Bright.

                                                Oooh you shine so bright 

                                in every full autumn night without your friend in cite, 

                                       that helps you dominate the night sky 

                                                with your dens chilling light 

                    which helps me seek my ways throw the hunting mystery of the night,
 
                                                  without a single flashlight.

                                        Theo I wish on every day and every night 
 
                            nature can deliver such a beautiful cite... Moon Light Bright.



Poetry 2/23/11 by Keith K. Relf


Details | Blank verse | |

Mirrors Age

As morn braces against the emptiness of night
And cock crows echo in waves of yellow light

Fallen mixed colors brush along the coarseness’ of stone
As fall would have them, these leaves of gold

Age as time moving swiftly through coveted hope
Laid far along twisted roads, yearning there and then
to be not parted here, have alas a distance near

But what of it, who so best to have it, more!

I tire now on thinking further, 
and would love to simply settle
On piles of leaves bright along the way
To answer no more
to things that must stay

‘Cause with any wisdom here,
I would have experienced it there
On piles of leaves I will stay, and rest a time 
before another day

And should it be the last of things, then so be it,
for I would have had 
what it was before its last,
and what more can I ask -
to take on roads we can not stand


Details | Classicism | |

Apocalyptic sight

Apocalyptic sight

 

Six pairs of Homeric children’s eyes
Over the tomb of ice gray world
Multiply my infinite sorrow into sins with no eyes or ears
In tangents of nostalgia
I kiss the death there that life suffers lung cancer

 
Biblical accusation pierces the silence of solitary harp in the Century of Hamlet’s
Four soaked tears eyes
Cannot set in a web of art neither in the depth of tired aquarelle eyes
The old childhood love into triangle breaths depth
Shed tears in salt of survival 

 
In the geometry of continents
Time impasse like me in the Scandinavian saga
Logical mathematics does not capture lines neither feast of hieroglyph tears
The root of injustice divides only parents' pain
Above the European dried moral

 
Six pairs of eyes and four pairs of eaves accuse
They live autumn of loneliness
Any number does not define emblem of loneliness
Not even a prayer of compassion
Cosine of loneliness interferes in verses and the poetry of human love
And the death doesn’t suffer the reception 
because I draw lines while remaining just a number


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Trees of a Dreary Autumn

Trees of a Dreary Autumn 
Arabic poem by: Saad Yassin Yousuf*
Translated into English by:
Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
========================
 

At a light
Said to be "dawn" We got to the shoulder of the Sea book;
Our wrecked boats were floating 
As wood stained by bloody waves,
Heads of children slaughtered
By the voracity of a false 
Prophet, Eyes yearning farther than the kingdom of light,
Wooden pencils robbed of their sun color,
Withered flowers,
Pictures of palm trees, standing
Drunk on the cliff, waving to other banks,
Butterflies that lost their color of light, 
Remains of time, 
Cut-off- ears and marks of defeat.
A beach shoulder crying over the nests of its seagulls 
Mumbled:" A cheap spring 
Is what the miracle doves 
Have paid their throats a price for its singing!!! “
I loosened the ties for my steps,
But I stood as if pinned to the ground;
I tossed away the moment, in which I bereaved my sea,
And went on flirting with
The fuzz of my dreariness.
The couriers of death, 
Still in haze black jackets, 
Raised a mast stained with clay mixed in
Oil of desires; 
It’s a spring chocked with the blood of flowers, 
Smoke of the lost horizon, 
Pirates and autumn
Branded with palms 
Stained by the blood of a grassy dream
Beneath a cloud of straw
And ashes......
And
Trees
The sap rising in it stopped to green and give colors 
To the branches of dreariness.
Oh! How reckoning troubled us
With all that comes with it;
The jars in its coffers
Are full of
Forgotten pains, 
Fear of the moment, 
Broken wings, 
Songs shattered in the voice 
Of reed pipes trying to play it, 
And days of spring
That turned into
Trees of a dreary autumn.
 ***
 Translation by: 
Em. Prof. Inaam Al-Hashimi (Gold_N_Silk)
 USA
 March 6, 2013
 * Saad Yassin Yousuf is a poet from Iraq
Link t0 the original poem In Arabic : http://www.alnoor.se/article.asp?id=204317


Details | Verse | |

Ultimately Sadness

The song she sang of morning, sweet with life,
And how she walked the mountain ridge to bathe
  Her flawless form in sparkling springs;
Blackberry hair fell sleek to statue shoulders,
Pale and marbled breasts brushed by the strands,
  Her parted lips sighed of wondrous things.
Eyes that glowed of chestnuts, glittered
Flecked with glints of rain and melting ice,
  Blazing sheen of autumn fire;
And the smile, spreading arc of sensuality,
Wrenched the hearts of men with sweetest pangs,
  Invested them with tenderness, desire.
All the world bowed down, her intellect and beauty,
Young and as close to perfection’s ideal
  As the earth could hope to hold;
But ultimately sadness, the black spot, mushroomed,
Nestled hidden in her brain - it took her out one day
  And laid her rest when life grew cold.


Details | Rhyme | |

I See You

I see you in the springtime
as flowers start to bloom.
I see you in the lovely sunsets
within the month of June.

I see you in the Autumn breeze
as leaves are lifted high.
I see you in the stars at night
in the cold December skies.

I see you in all things beautiful
throughout the day it seems.
I go to sleep at night and still,
I see you in my dreams.


Details | Free verse | |

Bon Voyage

tattered, yellow napkin
softly settles into the murky lake
as it absorbs it's last spill
our names in gold, still legible

this ring, never fit, seldom worn
"I love you" etched innermost
I know you do, I just couldn't say it much
now I can, but you don't hear

it's cold out, especially on the water
our favorite time, autumn's change upon us
our old craft, tattered sail I told you I'd fix
before your birthday that never came

now why bother, It's the final voyage
a muted splash as the ring follows
and I sit, shivering silently in the blue dusk
the cold urn between my knees

now raised, and poured
a cloud of dust, your earthly remnants
ashes to ashes to water to earth
our dreams unlived, dissolved like you

in the muddy waters we once loved
nothing left for me: no us, no time
I follow your lead, but not softly, not muted
a last gulp and it's really not bad

Sinking, thinking, wishing
watching our boat bobbing beneath
silence is screaming, I gasp
I'm warmed as I see your smile.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Hidden

The innocent child still crying,
That you nailed up on your wall,
Her tears are freely flowing,
As the autumn leaves do fall.
The wind of time still blowing,
Across the lonely way,
As the soldiers march to battle,
On this bright and sunny day.
I couldn't get the words,
To leave my knotted throat,
I couldn't get my loved ones,
To leave the sinking boat.
I couldn't think the thoughts,
That could protect me from the light,
Couldn't see your beauty,
Hidden in my night.

And now the end is coming,
Riding on the wind,
To blow away illusions,
To blow up everything.

The riders horse is thunder,
The swords are flashing high,
As the angels of destruction 
Fall from the darken sky.

A million times I told you,
Whispered in your ear,
A million blessing hidden,
Behind the demons of your fears.

The innocent lamb is bleeding,
As the lightening flashes by,
The autumn leaves still falling,
From the sadness in your eye.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Verse | |

Double Decastich-AUTUMN BELLE

Autumn Belle
fell in a deep well,
the animal rescue team came,
but the well's cavity was too narrow...
they waited until Tom brought a drill. And meow
after meow she gradually became ill;
and more famous than Hollywood stars she became,
but could stardom have helped her fright, 
if she was hungry and trembling with fear?
Yes, the chance of survival was slim for Autumn Belle!  


Autumn Belle,
loved to play with Ginger and Bill,
but they warned her of the danger
by pointing their finger
to the direction of the well,
but as agile and smart as she was,
she never understood what they meant...
'till  tragedy stroke as her claws dug into the wet grass,
peaking inside to satisfy her curiousity in a minute or less.
No, death wasn't foreseen for Autumn Belle!


Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci


Details | I do not know? | |

Pleas and Poison

Who takes the last breath in the summer sun?
I'll die in autumn disaster smiling for the purity I've seen

Sullen sun rain on me
A fleeing soul into the dark and deep

Sleep
No thought
No Touch
No words


Kisses never here
Smile forgotten

Make me stone when i am dead
Take away my name

Tell god i've been shamed since Cesarean escape....
...I didn't know what I was getting into.....

I'll take my last look when the summer comes


Details | Rhyme | |

Autumn murder

Do they recall,
do they remember,
who I once was?
I wonder under the autumn sky,
though I see,
as they fall,
that time,
is passing me by.

I'm not afraid,
not this time.

I turn around,
and as I thought,
it is dead.

I did not commit murder.
It happened just like that.

Life went around,
behind my back,
grabbed the fallen one,
and stabbed my lonely heart.


Details | Kyrielle | |

A monastery grows from the songs

A monastery grows from the songs of its strange crew,
Monastery painted with blue of unique Voronezh blue 
And a new comer, blond icicle, bare footed, gnarled 
Deaf and mute -it is said -singing “Have mercy, God!”

Stalactite and stalagmite in their cells, monks and nuns
Some of them so innocent like the sober day that runs;
Hanged from the heaven of their great expectations held
From the glass dawn to noon singing:“Have mercy, God!”

The others in their rusty autumn or white winter,
All calling the Promised Land that started to glitter
In their heart and from this light the sky seems fired
And the forest`s echo repeated: “Have mercy, God!”

In the twilight mist two monks try to cut down 
The evergreen tree to bring it for kids in the town;
Children glide on sleigh and even tired go later to bed.
They learnt carols and angels sing “Have mercy, God!”


Details | Rhyme | |

cycles of love

my mark is fresh like snow in air
brisk and mist will crisp on hair
fists ball up from risk to care
whisper and stare but all is fair
love and reason, flow like seasons
the endings blending and quite seeming
parts of hearts, tho awake or dreaming
half is seeing, the other believing
eyes align and beats will sync
eyes a line for heat to sink
taken quickly for a fall
lovers stroll through memories' hall
echoes stir sight and scent
my senses flight keeps suspense
until logic teaches what it meant
all good things come to an end
summer lighting longer days
more hours to burn for lovers lay
precious tokens we hope to stay
from constant change or parting ways
spring into action to save those astray
a few more years can cost a pay
with lives and sacrifice displayed
perhaps tomorrow will be okay
years can fly like clouds in sky
feelings revealing what to decide
and just like that were back to try
to love the same until we die


Details | Free verse | |

He Never Shook My Hand - Epilogue

I think back now to the man I was,
Before I met my friend,
How different I was,
Altogether an average Joe.

I now sit here a nervous wreck,
Dishevelled and unshaven,
Virtually a recluse,
Keeping interaction to a minimum.

I wonder what he did to me,
How he took my mind,
Took my world,
And left me with these horrors.

We briefly met one wild autumn evening,
He never shook my hand,
But uttered those words,
“Allow me to share with you a different view of the world.”


Details | Lyric | |

Autumn's Arms

Written November 17, 2013


The summer dies slowly
Into autumns arms
And winter does linger
Until spring breathes at dawn
I've fallen for you
Cast under your spell
My gaze as stone
As the old towne well
My face as pale
As the moon in the night sky
My heart unspoken
Left wondering why
These days are so chaotic
Yet these nights so serene


Details | Narrative | |

How A Blue Rose Came To Be

"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."

                                                           

Once upon a time, many years ago,
There was a sweet and lovely -  red, red Irish rose,
That was plucked prematurely, from the garden vine;
A budding beauty, taken in her prime.

She was laid to rest, upon the death, of a lovers dream;
Upon a chest of ebony, where lie, his would-be  Queen; 
Lowered deep into the depths, of the church yard cemetery;
Her scarlet petals, wilting in the summer breeze.

Then the earth begin to fall, like autumn leaves;
Upon  her petals, and the chest of ebony,
From above her tomb, where stood the grieving groom
Weeping , weeping,  like a willow tree.

Then the sky begin  to disappear, amid that mournful cry,
As  tears - from above, fell from that lovers eyes,
And came to rest, like dew drops on that  Irish rose, 
As she disappeared beneath the earth, there in his grief below                                      
     
In time, he laid a stone of ivory - upon her grave;
Etched deeply  - with the promise he had made:
To love his Irish Rose - forever and a day.

The years and all their seasons came and went
And a million lonely tears were cried and spent
Upon her grave where everyday he knelt and prayed
And dreamed of her until his dying day.  

The epigram has long since faded on the ivory stone   
That still stands alone today, upon her grave
Where from the million tears of love he gave
A seemingly impossible - blue, blue rose has grown.

                                  ~~~~~


Author:  Elaine George
For the contest: Writing In The Sublime ~
Awarded: First Place


Details | Haiku | |

Samurai Song, Haiku


delicate blossom
rests in the still gnarled hand
bruised petals weep tears

weary eyes open
tiny cuts, the body bleeds
peace still years away

sun rise breaks the hill
heralds another battle
draw your sword and charge

Trisha Sugarek, 2011
From The World of Haiku


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves.
The ones that coloured my days golden, I long for them during the winter of my life.
I long for their warmth and how I long for their beauty.
Why have they left me?
I cannot bare the cold.

Numbed by the snow I gaze out into what is left of the seasons.
I cannot see clearly as nostalgia dances around me, twirling among the blinding shadows,
always just out of reach.
I can never hold her again.
She taunts me, but I can never hold her again.

My heart, my poor suffering heart.
There is no fixing this break, there is no going home again and there is no hope for
another Autumn.
I have come to the end of the road and there is nothing left but fields of white.
They beckon me.
I take a step and all at once a feeling of calm, complete calm, washes over me.
The world stands still, waiting for my descent.
I realize, then and there, this is the final chapter.
My last season, ending.
I take one last look at the dancer and dream one last dream of Autumn leaves.
My finale.
I am forever now, in the endless white.


Details | Free verse | |

O' Sandy

As we lay beneath the moons glare
A simple look will never prepare
It seems quite
It seems peaceful
Without the light nothing appears displaced
Only that sight is a lie, not really a sight
The suns arrival comes with the truth
Now we can see what needs to be seen
It disguises as if it was a dump
Yet, it never was the place of any garbage
A day ago it was a living society set with a stage
The performance came her name was sandy
The audience took her act to heart
She took lives
She took memories
She tore us all apart
A scary performance, always to be remembered 
Now to fix up, the damage that was widespread



Details | Free verse | |

Come

Come, let us walk this broken street, you and I; 
Explore the infamy we share before we die. 
After all, will death not seize man's birthright 
When this day gives way to night? 

Signposts all along the way, today, 
Creaking in the autumn wind as they sway 
And swing their monolithic rhapsody - 
No time to gently die with dignity; 
Our tongues so rough and dry 
Must see the wasted remnants 
Of the world, before we die. 

You ask me why? 
Observations made though flawed as art, 
Is all we have as we depart. 
Our eyes observe for those whose 
Eyes have long been pearls 
Within the locusts' den 
Where fog and dust now swirls. 

I hear no sound of water's drip - 
All is rock and pebbled sod. 
No sound of wind-whipped sail 
On seabound ship, 
Nor voices raised in praise of God. 

All be still at His last will! 

Come, let us turn this corner to the past, 
For there is where we find 
All unexpected treasure mined 
Will never last; 
Our blood can boil 
In passion's heat, 
But cools and turns to dust 
- complete - 

After all, will death not seize man's birthright 
When this day gives way to night? 

Where are the jewels once sparkling in the sun 
And woven through her black and braided hair? 
The pyramids stand idle, each and every one, 
Above the bones that wither there. 
Was not their time as equal then 
As ours is equal now? 

And who should steal the sacredness 
Within the sacred cow? 
Those who follow desert prophets proud, 
Or those without perception 
Shouting loudest from the crowd? 

Hear the purloined jester chuckle from the grave. 
His light and airy voice spoke truth 
About the grayness of the cave - 
Plato's shadows tell the tale, 
How reasoned men will surely fail. 

After all, will death not seize man's birthright 
When this day gives way to night? 

Come, and you will see the mystery 
That none have seen before - 
The glory of society 
Before the tyranny of war. 

Nothing stays unique 
Beneath this vast expanse of sky - 
Lest brightness buries bleak 
Which is unique, 
As you and I pass by. 

Come, if you will, 
Notice all these brittle leaves 
Upon the broken street, 
So still, 
As autumn breezes cease - complete. 

After all, did death not seize man's birthright 
As this day gave way to night? 


Details | Quatrain | |

The Lost Child

She had ten little fingers
and ten small rosy toes
she wore a gorgeous smile
and a little button nose
she laughed the sweetest laugh
and her skin was soft and fair
around her face, dark ringlets
she got my curly hair
she had her daddy's eyes
a vibrant greenish-blue
she was my little girl
that never made it through

By Morgan Mise
Written November 3, 2012


Details | Cowboy | |

Border's End

I did not drive the roan that day,
Just saddled up my old dark bay,
To check out fences far afield
And breathe in life with all its yield.

Near border’s end I came upon
A fresh, dead cow down by the pond.
I wondered why it had died here
With water and spring grass so near.

I spurred my horse and reined away
But something said that I should stay—
I creaked down from my saddle’s reach
And saw the cow had died in breech.

I knew they should be buried soon,
By light of day or dark of moon. 
I left them there, that calf and cow
And rode back home in thought somehow.

I had forgot that scene of death
Till summer quickly took my breath
And once again I passed that shell
Of twisted skin and faded smell.

The worms had done their work it seems 
On frenzied flesh and faltered dreams.
Yet, still I stared like at a grave—
Thought how we took but seldom gave.

Then autumn came and tinted trees
With colors each low creature sees.
So on my horse I sought them out,
To answer what this life’s about.  

A mute Madonna—sticks of bone,
Still nestled there so all alone.
We live and die, the season’s dawn,
We’re all breech born before we’re gone.

In winter’s wind the world turns cold
As cow and calf and man grow old.
Yet, now there’s no sinew or hide 
To hint of life or what’s inside.

Death’s passion passed and so did I
To pay respects and say goodbye.
For man and beast all die as kin—
I will not ride this trail again.

 




Details | Couplet | |

Fragile

I feel like an autumn leaf,
Fragile in the wind.
Leaving the tree to fall underneath, 
With the life of the branch within.
I fall through the depths of time,
With a fluid, dance like motion.


Details | Sestina | |

Autumn Breeze

   A whisper of beauty sets to the night
In ancient time of Autumn breeze
A flightless feather to soar the sky
Records the silent echos of sorrow
Carries through on seasonal change
Keeping time with history's eye.
   A feather passes a tear filled eye
The sacrifice before the night
The day of blood held in the breeze
As a gentle wind through summer sky
Pierced by the blade of sorrow
The Holy man of change.
   New land wandered for man to change
A wishful time to England's eye 
The eagle spies the foot step night
The pilgrims beyond the breeze
As children cry to burn the sky
A massacred Indian sorrow.
   A black man echoes sorrow	
The pain of life to change
Freedom from the blood stained eye
His cry seeks out the night
Caressed by Autumn breeze
As another feather floats the sky.
   Blood stench streams in horrid sky
The bodies of broken sorrow	
The feather sights upon the change
As delusions form in hatred eye
Secrets under night
Their souls become the breeze.
   Reaching upon the new day breeze
A scrape of cloud and sky
A world united in mornings sorrow
The view of landscaped change
Laments cry the tearful eye
Through restless lonely night.
   Unto the land of darkened night
The feather of recorded sorrow
A moments break awaits, the next Autumn breeze.

     BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
     September 25, 2008


Details | Free verse | |

Enigmatic Lane

Enigmatic Lane

This enigmatic lane-
I’ve walked long.
And now I see
Only barren lands,
A mere setting sun,
And a vague horizon.

I turn to look back
Along this enigmatic lane.
And then I see
Those umpteen vicissitudes,
Those sudden meanders,
Those familiar turns,
Those abrupt detours.

Down this enigmatic lane,
There have been
Many a rich meadows,
Many a bleak wastelands,
Millions of pompous marches,
Millions of disconcerting dirges,
Several comforts of love,
Several cruelties of reclusion.

Along this enigmatic lane
I may no longer tread, for-
As I now halt, I ponder-
Perpetuation has always been
The ruse of fleeting phases,
And what worth has it been
To walk this enigmatic lane.


Details | Light Poetry | |

You are greater than the pain

You are greater than the pain


Who can I turn to

No one but you

You are greater than the pain.



Your love endures forever

When I'm weak you are strong

Your greater than the pain.



I long to be with you

I long to hear your voice

Your greater than the pain.


Help me to see the sun

help me to know you have won.



Your love is everlasting

your love flows from the very

depths of my soul.



Your love is in my heart

your love will never depart.

Your love is greater than the pain.


Keep me standing Lord

Help me to hold on

Help me to reach up and take your hand.


You are greater than the pain.



Written By://©Betty Bolden


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

visiting burr oaks cemetery

Hand in hand I'd remember a sultry dance that gather autumn leaves surrounding the balance. between here and now while fashions sway in a temptress breeze beyond the craving thoughts that mingles throughout a mindless maze words becomes tokens of grains of sand while laughter bounce off cemetery walls awakening sorrow above slab stone fencing catering to a calming purgatory
quieted by jaded hymns and silent whispers being carefully covenant above the cities shorelines as abandoned depris of poshed plageristic values tinged with forgotten anger amidst the tainted hints of torn angels wing blowing desperately about heavens sphere why covered in weather and waste moss and mace blueprints lay an awakening map of lots and busted up burial plots as my heart dangles behind my soul


Details | Free verse | |

He Never Shook My Hand - Part 2

I stepped out into the autumn rain,
Took a deep breath,
Pulled my coat around my ears,
And started on my way home.

The street was full of people,
Hurrying about,
Trying to get home,
I made my way through the crowd.

I decided that what happened at the bar,
Was nothing,
A waking dream,
In an instant I felt a hand brush against mine.

Her warm hands around my throat, Small, yet oh so strong, My arms trapped within my coat, I wheeze my final song.
I turn to find the stranger’s face, But she’d already gone, Vanished into the ether, Still looking, I was jolted forward.
BANG! I stare, It looks back, Into my soul, The iron eye blinks again.
I could still feel the pain, “Sorry.” Came a voice, From where I don’t know, Cautiously I stepped into the gutter. Water seeped into my shoes, But here was safe, My path clear, Away from the horrors on the pavement.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Road to Nowhere

A road to nowhere A picturesque scene of trees turning bare Fresh autumn scents filling the air And a young woman on a journey traveling from here to there With a slow, steady pace and tapping shoes She creates an east rhythm to hum along to Walking along, not a care in the world Living her life, and living it well The cool crisp air softly blowing at her knees Coming throughout the autumn trees For a moment it almost seems Things aren't really ever as bad as they tend to seem Soaking in the last bit of light with a peaceful flow She passes along the last few trees with golden leaves shinning abode The now setting sun begins to give off a warm orangey red glow Setting off her long blonde hair as it moves to and fro Then out of the gleaming sky Fighting her rising fear from deep with inside Her heartbeat quickens, as she tries keeping a steady stride Hairs prickling up upon her neck, a raven screeches as it swoops by The absence oh heat, so abrupt Leaves her with chills, so corrupt Touching her soul as if almost freezing up Upon her face lay a perfect cut A gush of wind cuts across her chest And her forehead quickly covers with little beads of sweat Just as she's starting to fear she can't go on She twirls and turns then starts to run She whirls around but falls to her knees Blood slowly dripping down from her cheek The raven appears with an open beak Ans lets out a bloodcurdling screech "Raven, Raven, oh please don't die!" She laughs And looks upon the bird with a menacing smile Then lets out a satisfying sigh "Just please don't die" She gracefully stands with blood-lust filled eyes Her tapping shoes carrying her off into the night Her Raven black hair rocking to and fro And off down the road to nowhere she goes
Inspired by The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe


Details | I do not know? | |

No Return

Sparkling drops of purest light
Roll down and merge on crystal glass,
And looking out on skies of grey
She sees not what she hoped would pass.

So in those eyes of autumn brown 
Are pearly tears that mirror those
That stream past eyes but are not seen
By any but that widowed rose,

For though she heard she cannot hear
The news that came one hour before.
The sorrow heaves but strength beholds,
For with those tears her heart would pour.

And auburn tendrils frame her face,
But neither does she know nor care.
Though what is wrong should make her blush
Silence reigns for that is fair.

The windows foggy surface gleams
As realisation starts to dawn,
Her knight is never coming home
Across the parks and tendered lawns.


Details | Rhyme | |

Five

The light of my life is the tide of the tight
Which half of witchcraft is blight to unbright?
Paper of papal intent in the tent
Fare of the fate to the wittingly went

Knives are nice, but butter is better
A flick of the wrist and a twist of the fetter
Burn through the binder and break down the bricks
The deluge of delusion that stickles and sticks

Ruptured erruptions of singing to sin
Enraptured in rapture by fiddling the fin
Won't will your wont until the wight's won
Sorrowful song of the son of the sun

Lice come less when Winter won't wrest
Sum of the Summer rests in the West
Oughn't the Autumn to singe from the binge
Swing with the Spring of the tingling tinge

Donning the dawn of the bleeding night's blight
Moon dies at noon at the frightening fight
Dust of the dusk falls to slickening breath
Bright light of deep night dreams quickening death.


Details | Verse | |

Leaf of Doubt

A person's last breath
Should be that
Of an Autumn leaf
Gently gliding 
To land serenely on
Earth's surface.

Doubt is like 
A cold wind's whisper
Declaring it's presence, 
Whisking the beautiful leaf
In two directions:
For it floats toward
The abyss and the heavens.

As much as one 
Does truly doubt
One equally yearns to believe,
And as the leaf disseminates
In a sort of malign peace,
We fall apart.


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku 5


In its final soar 
Finds the limb it learned to fly 
Lands, to fly no more 


Gene Bourne
06-08-14




.


Details | Free verse | |

Wealth flagship

Lift up from the rotar weeds
 Summer bleeds the last still born
 As autumn greed fights decay
 To save the date from phallic fortunes
 Gather brand new gallop horse distortions
 
Where poles putrify at stockholm
 Is this the way the world ends?
 On battery pulse with no remorse
 Sucking hospital cupid with no hope groan syndrome
 
To make alive the image
 Of fly's circling round chopper wheels
 My primal ordeal is to shake it thin
 As carcass evaporates mermaids into wave maids
 
Concrete headaches will remember the bloodline spilled
 Out the skin fold mouths of gyrating myth
 From belly up suckers that just gotta bust the date
 Wealth of the flagship sailing straight into paper fates


Details | Free verse | |

He Never Shook My Hand - Prologue

Allow me to share with you a different view of the world,
A view which was new to me only a year ago,
I was given the sight by an old school friend,
A man I hadn’t seen since we were both boys.

He appeared to be at least ten years my senior,
Despite the fact we were in the same class,
His clothes were crumpled and loose,
And his sunglasses did not leave his face.

We briefly met one wild autumn evening,
He never shook my hand,
But gave an exhausted smile,
And joined me for a drink.

He seemed to speak for endless hours,
Tales about his recent past,
Tales unbelievable,
About the things he’d come to see.

And then he simply walked out the door,
Barely an hour had passed,
But somewhere in that meeting,
He passed his skill to me.


Details | Narrative | |

Murphy's Law in Autumn (part 1)

There’s a piece of sheetrock in my aunts house.
That’s newer than the rest of the pieces.
It hasn’t experienced the joyful times
The rest of the ceiling has.
I remember the days when life was normal,
Before that orange extension cord came into our lives.
My uncle bought it real cheap at a garage sale.
He said it was a bargain! He loved that extension cord.
Well, that bargain played a savage role that would plaque
The rest of our natural lives in the months that followed.

It was an Autumn morning, 
boy, how I love brisk mornings.
I stay up all night just to catch the morning sun.
I’ve always done this, ever since I can remember heck, I guess I always will.
A call came that early morning,  
I felt on the inside something was wrong.
It wasn’t normal for our phone to ring so early.
My cousin spent that night tallying up his list of unfortunate events.
I was suppose to spend the night, but I didn’t.
The issues of that day, drove him to take my uncles bargain 
and bust the sheetrock from the ceiling.


Details | Quatrain | |

Heroes Who Never Die

There has been oh so many
And many are still around
They surround us old and young
For in our hearts they can be found

They can be members of our families
Who inspired us in many ways
It could be a writer on the Soup
Who displayed their way your ways

They could even be in the field of sports
Or even on a movie screen
But the ones who are heroes much more
Are in the places we will never have been

They are the ones who fight for our future
For when they are lost, we cry
They are the ones who lay down their lives
For they are " Heroes Who Never Die " 



Inspired by Bryan Josh of Mostly Autumn who wrote 
   " Heroes Never Die " in memory of his father




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-7.php


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dance of the Dead

Like autumn leaves blowing in the winds of time
Whispering tales of heartless crime
Your spirit resonates all around
I cannot escape the chilling sound
That last golden beam of sunlight fades away
Resuming once again this midnight play
Ghosts of the past smolder in the moonlight
Silver flame such a beautiful sight
Look but don’t touch is what they say
From fingertips they prance away
Endless dance in a lonely night
Lasting until the world begins to dew
Separating fantasy from what is true
Left to wander aimlessly through another day
Will the guilt ever fade away?


Details | Rhyme | |

Standing on the Edge

As I stand on the edge
Slowly looking down,
I cannot help but wonder
How far to the ground.

Inside I am shaking
I’m trying to act real brave.
Should I close my eyes and just do it
Or should I smile and wave.

As I stop and look around me 
All my friends have gone,
I’m the only one still hanging here,
 Time that I moved on.

It’s just that I had such a good life,
I loved it so much being here.
I know that my life has expired
But I hold every moment so dear.

Finally I know I must do it
So close my eyes and let go,
I actually feel like I’m floating,
Or flying really slow.

Now as I land I’m astonished
How soft the ground seems to be,
And the pillowy pile where I landed,
Are all the leaves that left before me.

Brenda Meier-Hans
10. 12. 2013


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Fantasy

I want the world to burn,
I want to disappear.
I want to stop the pain I feel, 
I don’t want to be here.
I feel overwhelmed,
And wish to die.
Just to feel a simple emotion,
When I cannot cry.
I dream of ending my suffering,
Of slicing through every vein.
But each time I try to escape,
My efforts are in vain.
I dream of emptiness,
Because I cannot feel the joy.
I dream,
But feel no release.
I live a life I destroy.
And each time I cut,
I come closer to what I fear.
I wonder what would happen,
If I let go and lie here.
I’ve often thought of dying,
So much better than crying.
I dream of it,
Like a fantasy.
A dream I want,
But cannot see.
There are so many times I’ve had the chance,
The chance to end it all.
Yet I keep falling,
Falling and failing just to stall.
Maybe I’ll finally make it,
Kill myself and end the call.
Then I’ll find peace and end my endless fall.
But don’t cry for me,
I feel nothing at all.
I’m better off dead,
Than enduring the pain of my brawl.


Details | Haiku | |

Try to the end

Brown leaf hangs on tree.
Struggling to stay for longer
before it must... Fell.


Details | Rhyme | |

Fall

Come autumn rain, come wind of north!
Blow your darkness forth and forth –
I defy thee with my own strength
I fight against thy powers length!

Hail on me sleet, hail down your ice!
Smash down this human twice or thrice –
I will resist against your try
No matter how your storm may cry!

Embrace me night, embrace me cold
like arms of death and fog on wold –
oppose I can with my death heart
ward off the cold and lethal dart.

No storm is like dark feelings gale;
no hail can hurt like loving’s flail;
no cold can kill as amor’s arrow -
compared with love is fall a sparrow.


Details | Rhyme | |

Day's end

An autumn dream of pure white snow, interrupted by a strong wind's blow. Wakes me from my deep, dark slumber, Up I stand and start to lumber. O'er hills like brown-orange pills, Summer's faded, Autumn stills, The fragile leaves around my feet, Are my heart; it's Autumn beat.
Robert Dixon 10/20/2011


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Drink When Thirsty

Within a vast sea 
under a calm and distant sky
is a secret solace known to few.
This is a place of peace, 
silence, and tranquility.
Here dwells knowledge in the purity of living, 
simply breathing life into a glorious texture of emotional bliss. 

High on the oldest tree are the words Drink when thirsty.
Masked phantoms move past, 
with a ceaseless breeze against their backs. 
They speak in riddles with jigsaw mouths, 
in mirror eyes they watch themselves.
Evening falls again. 
Day has closed her eye to another freckled veil of starlit hue.
A memory, now lightly nudging my shoulder,.. 
I see again their dances,.. around autumn fires,.. 
when the forest floor smelled of dry leaves, 
and the moon spilt shadows though naked trees.
Moistened now I drink life's sorrow, 
I tastes life's joy, 
and death awaits with menacing indifference.


Details | Verse | |

As Autumn Approaches

As autumn approaches my time draws near;
the bloodlust in me has deepened.
My heart and soul are consumed by fear
and my desire to live has weakened.

My eyes are bathed in a pool of red
from an early setting sun.
The vampire in me must soon be fed,
while from my wrists the blood will run.

The great oak outside my window
speaks to me of his pain,
for as his sap ceases flow
to red his leaves will change. 

And the geese headed south in flight,
are calling me to the end...
as the brace themselves against winter's bite
onward, to Hell's gates, I'll be sent.


Details | Rhyme | |

SPRING AND THE DEVIL'S ARM

      SPRING AND THE DEVIL'S ARM
Abbreviated by an early autumn night
the summer, once tormented by a torrid sun,
relented to September, as if dying might
give reason to all things the heat and time has done;

The stalks of corn, if touched, explode into a dust,
and water tables sink down to a new found low,
but love always goes on, as love, it always must,
through drought and flood, and shortages that come and go.

There in the field, an old man points his maple cane
as if a prophesy, and something we should know,
always, always, always, there will be too much rain,
or not enough, and only love can ever grow.

There is a blizzard brewing, it's part of the plan,
up in the wastelands north, with tons and tons of snow;
and on a winters' morn, snow will be deeper than
the fences seperating everything we know;

and how the wind will howl, and everything will freeze,
there's little we can do, but hope for early spring,
always, always, always, we fall down to our knees
in love and prayer that times like this always will bring.

Next spring the rains will always fall, perhaps too much,
for some the devil's arm will reach down from the sky,
and twisting life about, there is no gentle touch,
excepting love, and that is all that gets us by.

Always, always, always, love has to always be,
though borrowed from the wind, though sought in pain,
though snatched out of the grip of some cotastrophe,
if not for love, there'd be no welcome summer rain.


Details | I do not know? | |

NATURES DEATH

The trees are shades of yellow 
The leaves are a frightening red
And now the leaves are falling off,
This means nature’s dead
The autumn leaves succumb
To winters icy breath
Now the flowers are all gone
For this is natures death
Before the winter packs to go 
She returns the leaves 
Green and new
And she takes back her frozen snow
Spring and summer come to pass
Once more the birds all 
Fly away
Right before winter, comes to stay 
All the flowers, trees, and grass
Know their lives have once more
Come to pass
And once more winters icy breath 
Spells our misery 
And 
This natures death 
I was always taught that death is sad 
I was always taught that death was bad 
So why is the death of nature the most beautiful death
Because in the end 
You know this death will come again
But before death there is always life
And this is why winter is the 
Most breath taking sight


Details | Verse | |

I've Got You Now

Upon a lonely Autumn night
I spied my prince by artificial light
Our eyes then met, and all was well
His voice, so sweet, said "Go to Hell!"

I laughed it off, assured he jest
And vowed that I would do my best
To win the hand of that valiant prince
By exposing my heart, my love to evince

For many a day, I followed his ways
Learning the patterns of his days
Careful to hide in alley and bush
Awaiting the moment of the ambush

My love, I knew, would fall to my feet
If ever I worked up the courage to meet
Aided, perhaps, with a hint of persuasion
Enhanced by the use of anaesthatization

Too shy to approach lest the ideal I mar
I followed the life of my love from afar
He seemed not to even know I exist
Oh, but I knew that that I could fix!

Upon a lonely Winter night
I spied my prince walking by streetlight
Our eyes then met, and before he could speak
I silenced him with professionally employed technique

Alas, we would finally be happy as one
Belong to me or belong to no-one
I'll have my way, as I always do
I know that I was made for you

Don't resist my psychotic persuasion
I've an episode for every occasion
An embittered word you devise to delay
Will only make you easier to sway

When in the darkness you feel fear
You can know that I am near
Waiting, watching, alway there
You will be my cross to bear

My dear, there's no reason to be blue
I promise I'm not going to hurt you
All I want is your fickle heart
You and I will never part

Something wicked this way will come
Resist all you want, we both know you'll succumb
Be it by poison, blackmail or lie
You can't escape me, however you try


Details | Free verse | |

Broken hearts

Love deceives
when it comes to family
It falters
just as Autumn wind hits trees

Leaves fall
just as tears begin to roll
down cheeks
Barriers appear we meet a wall

Words played
battle as we disagreed
Unfaultering
both stood firm decisions made

Battle grounds
Left, dark, dank, pools we cried
Half dead
we split. No longer passion found.


Details | Ballad | |

What's This All About?

Buildings crumble down much like castles made of sand.
The circle is unbroken, the brotherhood of man.
Flames burst out, they seem suspended in the sky.
They can’t stop the terror, no matter what they try.
Then comes a calm, like after a storm.
The people feel the sorrow, as they begin to mourn.
Although I wish that things, could be like before,
As the flames are extinguished, their beings are no more.
Step to the ledge, poised to make that jump.
Jolted from the path, it’s a pretty big bump.
A cloud of destruction shrouds the way back to the path.
I try to add up the numbers but can't do the math.
Smoke so thick, you can cut it with a knife.
It becomes much like a plague, as it takes another life.
The sun returns, but things don't look the same.
Sometimes I wonder, are we getting better at this game?
Darkness returns, with silence by it's side.
You're tossed and turned about, it’s a pretty rough ride.
You try to find your way but it gets lost in your head.
It's seeming to get harder, to just get out of bed.
So you stop and look around but you can see that you are lost.
The autumn leaves start falling, as they float down towards the frost.
Coldness starts to grow, you need only to feel warm.
Try to find shelter, to get out of the storm.
I can see the winter up ahead, trying to get out.
Then I'm left here thinking, what this all about? 


Details | Pantoum | |

Abele Trees in Autumn

Above the lake abele trees are golden
Now that autumn has reached its pinnacle
Two muted swans surrounded by reflective color
Snowy white swans face longing for each other


Now that autumn has reached its pinnacle
The lake reflects gold and red like miracles
Snowy white swans face longing for each other
Knowing winter is coming with its bother

Now that autumn has reached its pinnacle
Two muted swans surrounded by reflective color
Knowing winter is coming with its bother
Above the lake abele trees are golden


Details | Epitaph | |

Eternal Goodnight

If I say your name loud enough,
It sounds like the truth. 
And still you don't listen.
Still you don't move,
Out of the room that I'm laying,
My secondhand heart on the line.
You turn and your eyes tell me,
You're saying goodbye.

But if I had known,
I would have tried harder. 
Until my body was spent.
Anything to stop what happened,
Your pale skin cleaned the pavement.
The night the world ended. 

Your family was there,
As I ran through the rain.
Trying to find your arms,
That lay empty again.
Your fingers wave softly,
There are tears in your eyes.
They close and you tell me,
You're saying goodbye.

The funeral ends,
Now midnight draws near.
The autumn leaves descend now,
But I am still here.
I'm paralyzed by my guilt,
In the freezing night air.
I light up a cigarette,
And take out my guitar. 

I sit there strumming,
Out your favorite song.
And sufficate on the memories,
Of how you always sang along.
But tonight the voice is only mine.
I leave another red rose,
But I can't say goodbye.
So my darling, my love and my life...
Eternally goodnight.


Details | Free verse | |

The Dream

The Dream

On it’s  final journey – destination – a coma –
realization, a stagnant pool of reflections,
images on fun house mirrors –
surrealistic paintings
upon the walls of times passing,
it’s life diminishing, slowly, upon wings
of a sorrowful, soulful, agonizing flight
into the realms of death’s domain.

Dreams come to the midnight hour – hovering above.
Dreams fade - in quiet desperation – in twilight’s dust.
Rainbows mist, slowly blanketing, dark oceans deep.
Dreams of – depths of love, of joy, of a relationship,
all lost inside the vessel of heartache,
heartache’s pain washes over this sinking ship,
the ship of this fool and fools in love.

The dream shattered, fragmented – as is the love, lost
at the hand of indifference, of prejudiced perceptions,
of judgmental criticisms, of a belief of unworthiness 
that is displayed upon the screens of a mind hiding, 
avoiding – a lifetime of pain, disappointment, 
shattered dreams, unattainable expectations –
the monster – created, influenced, became the food
 for control, critical. judgmental indifference,
the façade of such pride, superiority, aggression.

The dreams, the love,–into Davie Jones’s locker deep-
there lay the skeletons of memories’ hope, life’s desire, 
- for no other entity, no essence, no energy source
of such beauty will come along to extricate, validate,
bestow vitality, resurrect, breath life back into
that which was dead and now drowning.

Oh, if it could only be shown, there is more than one,
shown that two can be as one in their separateness.
If only the deep, dark, shadows would give up, give in,
relinquish their control, release the anchor, 
the chains that bind, that weigh you down.

The lungs of this Love, are filled with dew drops.
Suffocating from an unloving, uncaring, uninterested.
indifferent body, ( water the mother of this life, influence long gone ) oxygen it’s name - it’s father -rusting it’s hinges, doors no longer open 
for this child loved, for the spirit, 
the soul of dream’s destine - to love – seem not
 to be able to bring life to this dead soul – adrift.

Shun the dreams essence and life drowns.
Shun love’s embrace – energy becomes less then static,
static becomes loves death - death by electrocution - 
a shock that stills the heart that loves.

Love is dying at the hands of “ I do not want ! ” 
Soon the day approaches when Love, will not want
what the hands of, reach out for – emptiness
will be all that fills the world of superficiality.
In the end, the aesthetic pictures, points of view
will be nothing more then dust in the winds 
howling through the empty spaces
- once beautiful Autumn Green  Eyes.
  
B. J. “A” 2
May 27th 2008


Details | Haiku | |

Decaying Gown

In decaying fall, They, deadened colours abound Leaves granted leave, gown .


Details | ABC | |

Deer

Deer
Deer running through the forest,
As graceful as can be,
Her white tail in the air,
Saying "I know you're there",
As majestic as this beast could be,
It will be in great agony,
For the motorized beast has caught it.


Details | Rhyme | |

Last Great Adventure

Last Great Adventure
 
The road had mysteriously beckoned.
One more great adventure I reckoned.
Alone ?, maybe ?, - this fair haired Lady –
would she be my companion ?, just maybe
she will join me – this autumn green
eyed beauty – in my dreams I’ve seen.

Journeys End

I’ve come back to a lesser place than before.
My Princess no longer – closeness no more.
As the plane arrived – she seemed to close the door
on the beauty we shared – from shore to shore.
I wonder ?, where she will take us, what place ?,
what plane ?, will be my fate – what will I face ?,
as empty days, photos, memories become all that is left.

B. J. “A” 2
September 8th 2007


Details | Free verse | |

Shooting Blanks

Just
In time corpse shine twilight sun  had tainted my inner vision
Twisted
Shooting blanks at the rooster just supose another number feeling somber
Doesn't any wonder?
Torpedo
Torn,
The inclusion within vile pathetic outrage
Shooting blanks as busy as Tyra Banks in bikini eating linguini
Torpedo, remember Frank Serpico?
Frantic in Autumn looking brightly colored orange 
In pivotal choices sense of remoseful inclusion
In dirty laundry vile smell who could tell
A window opens air will blow to breath in the steam,
Shouts of glory to untold story morning glory;
Shooting blanks getting lost in the shark tank
Dellusional
Insanity
Romantic interlude toward vanity
In tuned harmony to its hidden beasts menagerie
Shooting Blanks in the phone at the door

At the beach while Mrs. Polly eating a peach.


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Of Autumn

The air is cold ;so is my heart
the world starts to die just as I.
 In somberness I see the beauty of it all.
the reds,oranges,browns and golds give us hope
that the coming winter will help the earth regenerate,
As an artist paints the wonder of the coming fall, as his
eyes do see the wilderness change, so to do I.
 My death is my fall, my rebirth will be my winter.
I hold such splendor tight to my love and close to my heart.
For in truth lives life and in death lives the light.
My autumn shall become what my eyes behold.
an interwoven pattern of the world, a world unknown.
these beatious mountains of res,oranges,browns, and golds.
 Now what do your eyes see in this empty land surrounded by sea.


Details | Free verse | |

I Never Saw A Tree

 I never saw a tree
To shed a tear of despair
Nor one to whisper into the night 
Never once to speak unto a crowd
Of the many deceptions of government.
~
   I never saw a tree
To put the wisdom of hatred in the air
To turn a man against a man
Nor remove a punished man's dream
A fallen child of society.
~
   I never saw a tree
To question the right within the wrong
As Man expands the grasp
To flatten the brethren woods
The intoxicating death through greed.
~
   And once, I saw a tree
Standing in the flames
Watching as our nation burned
Slowly from within
The deception within the lies.
~
   I never saw a tree
To wipe a nation clean
Sending humans to the grave
Extinguishing a source of life
A tree would need to breathe.
~
   I never saw a tree
Whispering unto a child
Lies
To fill a mind with forced illusion
Governmental hypocrisy.
~
   I never saw a tree
To charge me for the view
Nor to spread the false laced truths
To keep a people weak
Nor exalt itself unto another tree.
~
   And once, I saw a tree
Swayed by Autumn breeze
It shared with me the importance of life
The reason to torch the lie
As death became the leaves,
  As death became the leaves.
~
By: Darren J McMurray
       October 28, 2009


Details | Free verse | |

The Drugs

Last week of my summer break
Hanging with my friends like always
Thats when I stumbled acrossed you
And suddenly I felt my heart grew weak

Instantly I fell in love with you, thats no lie
My soul fell for you as soon as I looked into your eyes
For they looked as though the sun was shining 
directly into them

He looked at me with more compassion
Then I had ever felt
Talking all summer just me and him
About everything and about nothing

What changed that autumn??
Was it your new friends
Because I saw what you did to your old ones
What made you into this kind of monster???

Although I never told you how I felt
I would still stay up at night and cry about it
Then the final day came when I found out the truth
How drugs were destroying the man I loved

From autumn to winter and from winter to spring
I couldn't believe how different you looked
Your eyes no longer shined like the sun
Your muscles weaker than ever before

I knew you were dying, I told you to stop
But you told me you didn't care
I wanted to leave you 
But I knew you needed me now more than ever

Summer comes around, schools are getting out
And off you left, leaving me all alone on this earth
Not even old enough to graduate and yet your gone
I never stopped warning you, but I still feel I'm to blame


Details | Light Poetry | |

On Chantrelles

In the mountains, 
where the berries grow;

Hides a treasure, 
some friends may know;

Among the summer flowers’ leaves,
Are golden treasures such as these;

If I could choose where I will lie,
When it is time for me to die;

Then let it be a quiet place, 
That these fair beauties yearly grace.


Details | Haiku | |

Fairy Nature

THIS POETRY IS WRITTEN IN 3 HAIKU/2 TANKA FORM, AND NOTES REFER TO SENSES.

I'm fairy nature,
come to collect fall's leaf wares
to help make a coat.


A coat of sunsets,
a last breath of summer's glow
to wrap up autumn.


I disguise myself
living amongst the woodlands,
squirrels, bugs, birds, bees.


Slowly with magic
I single handedly turn
the seasons over;

sweeping winds and driving rains,
giving nature rest till spring.


I nourish the land.
Autumn's blanket becomes crisp,
stark, white, purity,

I contrast, redecorate 
new, sleek, sexy, wavy tones.




AUTHOR NOTES

All 5 senses are expressed within this write, looking at touch, taste, sight, sound and smell.
'make a coat','wrap up' all indicate being touched or enfolded for warmth/protection...as does 
winter's 'blanket'
sounds - could be taken from the animals, and weather...'crisp' evokes sound also. 'rest'-
evokes quieter times...
smell - comes from earthy woodlands and fallen leaves, contrasted with freshness of icy or 
snowy air...
taste - evoked from 'nourish', 'last breath' of Autumn and new breath of winter air.
sight- comes from the autumn colours evoked from the 'sunset' and greens and browns 
of 'woodlands', 'sexy', purity of ice and snow, 'falls leaf wares' - reds, oranges, yellows and 
browns...


Details | Free verse | |

Pollen AmberLamp

Emblazoned in Turkish cordial, 

Your father's facade looks illusory and hoary, 

Further cooling, 

Rigidity,

And all round freezing,

Will abscond the perpetually young look,

Pleat in the minutes, 

 

Decisive the weather of autumn or May, 

So much so that hoarfrost accumulates, 

In your mouth when you, 

Complete your breath, 

Forming a word that couldn't denote, 

Much to a loving one, 

 

You lug your fathers crest in secondary name,

If you're a man this is spliced down the lineage, 

Or in egg sack,

Say you're a woman, 

And picking out your mate, 

Running her fingers down the spine of your length,  

Arid in this winter of heats, 

And a tribute to your running theme, 

Your ache for truth in the liquid, 

Seeping down your thighs, 

 

And the lack thereof a sequence of words, 

The binding words,

That can halt the ring finger, 

In more ways than one, 

A dark glass is not filled 

Or empty as the contents, 

Do not regale a sense of whim, 

Or desire to the be speckled ache, 

Of the user, 

The end of user license agreement, 

Is in full swing, 

Once stopped your shallow.


Details | I do not know? | |

vanish

yes we all must vanish
so true you see

As a puff of smoke
in a gentle breeze

As a rising warmth
on a winter freeze

Our moments  numbered
- leaves on trees

Til the autumn dawns
and tugs them free

yes we all must vanish
so true you see

yes we all must vanish
both you and me


Details | Elegy | |

The Gardener

He spent the golden years in his
garden growing vegetables like weeds.

With a Midas-like touch, instead of
gold, everything turned green.

Spring, summer and autumn, something 
about growing brought him great joy.

Perhaps he saw in the garden's changing
seasons a semblance of life others did not:

Childhood as spring when like young 
shoots he first grew,

Work and family as summer when his
crop began to yield,

Retirement as autumn when the fruits
of his labour were consumed.

And winter... well winter was his time
to rest and reflect on his crop.

He died in the winter of his being,
content with his harvest.


Details | Rhyme | |

Selfish

Why would you leave me here alone?
I feel abandoned and unaware
You could have chosen a different path
Leaving your loved ones behind is so unfair

No one had a clue to your tears and mental despair
You always hid your feelings so well
Looking content and happy with your life
No one would think of bidding you a farewell

So many broken hearts were lingering
Remembering the day we had to let you go
You looked so innocent and peaceful 
And you have always had that special glow

I recognize that I’m not the only one
That you’ve caused this resentment and pain
There’s all your friends and family
You’re careless decision they could never explain

Kyle you’ll never be forgotten
In our hearts is where you’ll find your place
Even though there will forever be that void
Without you here will always be an empty space

© Autumn Mae Franklin


Details | Crystalline | |

Seeing Autumn's oak adorn

Painting sky before I was born,
Draping my grave in leaf and acorn.

----------------------------
Contest: Crystalline
Sponsor: Rick Parise
11.22.14


Details | Free verse | |

DEATH

The yellow worm with elusive legs

And sluggish smell stealing stealthily

Into nerves and veins-

camouflaged under

dark leaves

shining like skin of cobra

It creeps like snail and keeps its 

surreptitious advances invisible from mortal

eye, 

A gust of wind blows off the candle

church bells toll within ageing cells

Lord Yama stalks trampling yellow autumn leaves

Under his stamping foot,

gates of Hades stand

wide open ,

new growths bloom and blossom

on graves 

sucking putrid plasma of his

predecessor,

amnesia saveswalls of souls from

defacing -

Stripping us from the coffin of life

 where dost Thou leadest us all thus incognito

 Tell us Ye sullen shadow,unmask Thy enigmatic ugly

face 

or bestow upon the mirthless mortals

The cursed boon of i,mmortality.


      
    
  
 
   

 
 


Details | Verse | |

Memories of you

We met in October and walked hand in hand
Kicking leaves  down country roads with canapes of gold
Picked our pumpkins from fields of yellow
Made love amongst the creaking stalks of dying corn
And rode a tractor together, laughing
Summers spent at Dover, licking ice cream as we walked on a pier, kissing 
behind the lighthouse, lying on beaches under a tree which rustled in the 
summer wind, we lay in the sand and made angels
And now after so many Octobers together, you again lie 
under a tree in eternal sleep, and as I sit by your grave
I think, how ironic, as I brush away the Autumn leaves 
that dare to cover your grave, and I see them swirl  upward in the wind forever, 
away and gone - like you, never to return...


Details | I do not know? | |

This is My Last BattleField

This is my last battlefield
I am tired of fighting a hopeless war
Filled with sleeping corpses and nonsensical peasant strides
Feverish Generals who keep shooting down with empty gun barrels
Soldiers who wanton march in the mists and bog of the long forgotten mansion
and inns of the tortured citizens that live without hope but no longer can be seen
I am the last Old Man of this ruin and wreck of a once prospered Nation gone Dead
The arms that I still wear are weary
these eyes which endow me to see does not wish to vision any further
Every step that my feet do walk is ready to fall for a long autumn sleep
Forget the rage that fills every blood in the veins who seek to destroy any sight
or fancy of the rich and privilage of the hierarchy that only seeks Wealth and Fame
NOT ME DEAR SIR AND MADAME..I AM TIRED OF PLAYING YOUR EVIL'S GAME!!!


Details | Couplet | |

Wisdom Of The Last Leaf

How can you ever reap my sweetest fruit 
When you cut me entirely from the root?
A root sage as the last leaf of autumn 
Descending downward to its unknown tomb
With its words of wisdom of which I sing 
In vibrant voice but you hear me nothing!




Details | Elegy | |

Last Thought

The asphalt against my face
Sirens in the background
My fresh warm blood censuring my eyes
Over whelming feelings of regret and remorse rush through my mind
What am I to do in the last moments of my life?

To lay here and cry or to quietly die
Or to scream for help or to fade in the night
Wish for a new start or to pray for what I had.
What about my mom and my dad?

How are they going to take it without me by there side
I didn't get to say good bye or tell them how much I loved them both.
They should now that I will always be there with them.
I don’t want them to be sad, they should be mad, I made the selfish choice.

Having them by my side would make this better
To have my dad tell me “Its okay son we all make mistakes”
Or my mom to say “I can relate to how you are feeling, and that it will be okay”

But it won’t, because I’m feeling my hopes and my dreams all slipping away
Like a leaf falling off a tree on a windy autumn day.


Details | Verse | |

The Nihilist - Five: Dog-Tired Days

Parallel went the universe someplace along the line
When autumn French-kissed winter with tongues of leaf and ice;
The lamp-posts dripped drab amber with a dark and dreary shine,
A devil's brew of garnished sleet, elemental egg-fried rice.
Night caved long and colder as day fell short, sedate,
And I felt somewhat older, in my heart a dying spark;
Crying out for love rekindling to alleviate the fate
Of departing in pitch-blackness and returning in the dark.
Tedious treadmill grinding as the Christmas pines were sawn,
Down in the valley decorations sagged and popped and spat;
Sizzling bulbs of neon death, ramshackle and forlorn,
Greeting cards from no one close had piled up on the mat.
My eyes blurred red and jaundiced in a fiery bourbon haze,
Well-past midnight I still sit and hungrily imbibe;
Toasting all the ghosts I knew throughout my dog-tired days,
On glitzy wrapping clawed the wishes I wished to inscribe.
Never has the relevance of nothing meant so much,
The face of unrequited love recedes in mist and snow;
The angels on the Christmas tree bestow no healing touch,
Pull up the covers, settle down, there's nowhere left to go…


Details | Free verse | |

In Loving Memory

As I lay back in the tall grass
An uncontrollable emotion tears deeply into my heart;
I attempt to understand, "Why?"
Why has God taken one so precious?

Just then, a soft pile of radiant autumn leaves
Forms a plush pillow, and my senses sharpen.
The warm sunshine and a soft gentle breeze
Lovingly touch all that we call life.

Birds in their melodious splendor,
Fly close , and deliver special messages.
Colorful flowers wave gallantly in the wind,
Each having a unique life of its own.

The sound of crystal clear waters 
Carrying crisp and vibrant fallen leaves,
To a distant and Heavenly destination,
Bring fond memories of those we will love forever.

Suddenly, in the midst of floating clouds far above,
Images of those held so dear touch my heart.
And they appear in fond  memories-both comforting and touching.
Only now can I begin to understand, "Why?"

All of these precious souls who we feel we have lost
Are lovingly watching over us from Heaven above,
Helping God create a Heaven on earth,
Enhancing and spreading beauty with everlasting love in their hearts.


Details | Rhyme | |

In The Cool Autumn Morning

In the cool autumn morning,
When leaves did softly fall;
I heard the geese fly over,
The beckon in their call.
And in the day's dawning,
My mind began to roll;
Back to fields of clover,
Where as a child I'd stroll.
To a clear summer's morning,
In woods of green I'd roam;
Seizing the moments forming,
Till mother called me home.
And as my mind did wander,
I longed for those days known;
All that time to squander,
Oh my, how it had flown.
The geese calls grow dimmer,
Quiet now fills the room;
Heaven's light doth glimmer,
A brightness in the gloom.
And in the darkness looming,
Twas angels I heard call;
In the cool autumn morning,
When leaves did softly fall.


Details | Elegy | |

Unknown Soldiers Grave

Struggling to put face and name together
You passed so long ago it is difficult to recall
Those bright hazel eyes that sparked of life
Dirty blonde hair as it shone in the daylight
Gone in the autumn you fell with the leaves
But you won’t return with the natal of spring
They regret and apologize for wars long over
Now old and crippled time cannot return to me
I have wept at your loss and done nothing
To repay the heavy burdened debt I carry
You were someone’s son and lover
Felled by my eye and bullet.


Details | I do not know? | |

September Something pt.1

I remember well, standing outside in the clear autumn air,
  we stared upward,shielded our eyes from the distant sun's fierce glare.
Looking back:I quickly looked down,saw her dark hair,her pale face,
  already,her last impatient strides at an amazon pace.
The heavily burdened breeze,still too soon to fear,at our back;
  ominously above,as below, a flight-cast shadow's black.
We foolishly believed our Life,like our Love was immortal;
  our future was our haven,our passion to be our portal.
But,our grand designs were soon to fall before the ruin of Fate;
  unlike massed rain-clouds,this storm would not eas'ly evaporate.
     You look to see it's September something,all your love's in vain;
     Though you swear you want for nothing,these winds only carry pain.


Details | Free verse | |

the first of april

the first of april 
looming over the horizon
one step away 
from the coming
summer, 
with a spring that 
will zoom through
quicker than you can say 
the word quick &
we’re standing 
on the sidelines 
in our t-shirts &
vitamin d-soaking skin
with all the 
sun worshipers awaiting
the coming of their 
fiery burst of amazement &
all the water worshipers
ready to wade for months &
submerge themselves in 
the cleansing moisturizing
of the earth’s embracing 
liquid force,
right before it all begins
to fall in on itself
again,
when autumn brings
the death of leaves &
the death of flies,
to satisfy
me. 


Details | I do not know? | |

A Simple Life

If only life were as simple as the rising sun and the setting moon
The cold of winter and the early spring bloom
If life were so simple, the growing of grass would be an event;
The rain from the sky, heaven sent
Imagine a life where we’re born to live
Where we live to love
And learn to accept the inevitability of death
The unavoidability of drawing that last breath
A simple life where fate and fantasy work hand and hand
No 9-5; No Rush; No demands
But life isn’t simple like the late night calling of a bird
Or writing letters to form a word
It’s a complex enigma of contradictions, fallacies, and convictions
A mixture of death by design and death for no reason
It’s a combination of cheating, stealing, dealing, lying, crying, dying
Trying anything to get by; anything to survive
Mind and body trapped in the mindset of our surroundings
Trapped in the fabricated lies and stereotypes of those who tell us who to be
How to act? How to live? What’s wrong? Who’s right?
There are endless philosophers, professors, and professionals who try to offer 
insight
But who tells them if their right?
Centuries show that no one really knows the secret truths about life
Not the pains and pressures
Not the garbage or treasures
But the simple complexities of our euphoric pleasures
The simple joy that only comes in small doses and measures
If only life were as simple as the cool autumn breeze
The delicate blossoms on the trees
If life were so simple would there be joy in nothing?
Or does the pain before the pleasure make complex simplicity everything?
If only life were simple 


Details | Rhyme | |

Slightly Out Of Tune

So now
            the very thing you feared
                                                   has come to pass,
as you
            watch the sand pour through
                                                      the hourglass.
Now the
            autumn trees are splendid
                                                  in their colors,
but your
            windows stay closed, locked
                                                     and shuttered.
Sometimes you
                       hear music playing
                                                   faintly.
Intently listening,
                         your face looks
                                                almost saintly.
In abject
             stillness you watch the
                                              tiny spider weave.
In your mind
                    an illusion,
                                     just make-believe.
Without alarm
                     or even normal
                                            consternation,
you're aware
                    your legs and feet have lost
                                                              sensation.
You see
             the irony that death starts
                                                    at the toes,
as the smell
                  of gangrene wafts 
                                             past your nose.
Shadows seem 
                       to glide across
                                              the room.
Somewhere a
                      piano's playing slightly
                                                        out of tune.
You're like
                 the spider herself,
                                            sitting stone-still in her web.
searching for
                    the music playing
                                               faintly in your head.


©Danielle White


Details | Verse | |

Falling Leaves

A tumult of orange and russet hues,
the falling leaves of Autumn glide,
trajectories swirled in a northern wind,
to lie untended, cast aside.
From slate grey sky weeps pregnant rain,
peppers the earth with angel tears;
on the border of Winter's icy promise
the memories strip away the years.
Golden reflections fix the eye
on an innocent child of infant grace,
at play in a world of faraway dreams
in a past that is now a foreign place.
Taken too soon like the falling leaves,
veiled in a curtain of angel rain,
bestowing upon the ones who loved
rough justice of timeless hurt and pain.
Yet through gentle tears and loving smiles
a heart beats in an Autumn gale,
for the soul of a child is a sacred prize
and in love, down the years, will forever prevail.


Details | Narrative | |

Epilogue

I remember being loved very much
Of loving you too in the day, in the night and  . . . 
And I remember waking in the early morning
Before the sun rose
Before the moon fell
I remember watching the sighing of moonlight across your skin
How it rained just for us, for you in March
And how the skies shaded the sun on that one-day in October so slightly
I remember our children
And Mary
Rhane
I remember our first child and the way you smiled in those first moments

I remember
In the sighing of my life I remember you
Watching over me
Loving me
Always loving me
And . . .

I remember dying

Growing old together with laughter and tears
Of looking back on our life together
Of being eighty-four summers old and new 
Of celebrating your eighty-third autumn and spring
With our children
And our grandchildren with their squealing laughter and “Nana, Nana!”

I remember my last breath
And how my eyes fell upon you to the last

I remember dying

My story . . . 

It was supposed to end there


Details | I do not know? | |

All Things Must Pass

The seasons flow and summer dies 
  To autumn dusk and winter fall, 
Cross fades to spring, revitalise 
  The life that moves throughout them all. 

The carriage of the human shell, 
  Propelled through day, laid rest in night, 
In seasons of the heart will dwell 
  The memories sealed and watertight. 

Of all she did, and all she was, 
  And all she means and all she made, 
Of her entirety because 
  She was the sweetest serenade. 

All things must pass eventually, 
  The sun will rise and likewise set; 
She ruled the very heart of me 
  And never will this heart forget. 


Details | Verse | |

Wherefore Art Thou?

Wherefore art thou now?
When clouds descended from the brow
Of hills remembered, fields where plough
Churned the earth to take the seed.
Growing like the wheat,
That rose up high to face defeat,
Cut down and ground that mouths may eat
And on the flour feed.

Falling like the snow,
Sent swirling through the streets below,
As human traffic ceased to flow
And halted bowed and still.
Creeping through the throng,
The choir sang a silent song,
The funeral cars progressed along
To take you up the hill.

I remember times
Of childhood days and nonsense rhymes,
When we committed harmless crimes
Upon the sleeping town.
Fires lit to burn
Makeshift swings and no concern  
Life to live and love to learn
When sun shone brightly down.

Wherefore art thou now?
Laid rest beneath the bough
Of oak that will endow
The marble with its shade.
Is this all that remains
Of blood that flowed in living veins,
Of summer dreams through autumn rains
Of all that life had made?


"For Paul Vaughn Evans - In Memory, My Friend."


Details | I do not know? | |

Errant Firefly

If I ate chocolate naked 
 
While lounging on red satin sheets
 
Beneath the light of a pale autumn moon
 
Amidst a Smokey glaze of heavily perfumed incense
 
With no else to admire the sight,
 
Would you then pay attention to me?
 
 
If I cursed you
 
Taking myself into a burning house
 
That had no windows and only one door
 
Out in the middle of the desert
 
Miles away from nowhere
 
With no else in the world to be frightened for me,
 
Would you then rescue me from myself?
 
 
What will it take to bring you back?
 
My husband, my lover, my torture,
 
How long will it take for you to realize
 
That I am dieing?
 
Dieing to be touched, to be loved,
 
Dieing for compassion, for some passion,
 
This girl you fell in love with
 
Is going to fade away
 
Unless you stop this petty selfishness,
 
And save Her!...
 
 
I am an errant firefly
 
That some child has caught,
 
And locked in a jar.
 
If this lid doesn't come off,
 
I will be dead by morning.
 
 


Details | Verse | |

She Passed This Way

She passed this way, 
her fashion by the will of fate 
that shaped her clay 
and forged her build compassionate. 
In midnight's dreaming spires 
she railed against the witching hour, 
the waning of the fire, 
and faded like the Autumn flower. 

She passed this way, 
her sweeping skirts and gentle style, 
that ruled the day 
with sadness hidden deep in smile. 
And thus we count our gain 
from knowing of her fight to stay, 
enhanced we will remain 
because she passed this way... 


Details | Lyric | |

A Game with Death

Deep within the confines of my mind, I play a game with Death itself
The pieces set, black against white, the game played a thousand times before
I move the pawns to block the enemy line, and I feel a tinge of empathy
The pawn and I, so alike, both pieces in someone else’s game, expendable
The greater pieces, knights and rooks, bishops, and queens protect the king
The King, the representation of my mind, if defeated so shall I fall
The pawns charge and clear the way against the line of Death’s allies
Reaching to the sky for their chance at glory, but stricken down before
Death’s cold and brilliant moves seduce me, like a forbidden dance
Haunting and frightening, but tempting all the same, I allow the moves
The pieces fall like leaves from an autumn tree, a piece of me dies with them
For this is no mere game I realize, but the struggle against the embrace of oblivion
And I’m losing, the king backed into a corner, no way out with foes in pursuit
The king in hopeless retreat moves further into defeat, and I tremble
My hand reaches for something, could it be that I’ve succumbed to failure?
I take the king in hand and it falls to its side, the match is forfeit to Death
But as I offer my hand to him, embracing my fate, the phantom simply smiles
A chill smile not seen, but felt in the heart, a stinging pain that told me his intent
He would not take me to the afterlife, but abandon me to a life of pain and hardship
Just like so many times before, the game played over the course of a lifetime
And Death cheats every time, every loss becomes another chance for misery


Details | Free verse | |

Spirits of Life

Silken violets, faded musk and jasmine, jasmine floating like some dim angel 
above the candles.... 
Ah, this is the passion of God -- brutal sadness, clash of humanity and beast! 
Muted indigo wafting through the rafters of this perilous heaven... 
Deliver me from this constraint, this trap, it so squeezes, flexes its cruel arms 
around my neck, around my little world of lilies and  beaches on autumn nights, 
when all the world is lit by the great faery dome of the skies in crystalline 
blackness, 
The painted colors, the blurred, soggy, miasma of dulled fragrances, odors, 
Lifeless textures and sensations, feel them not! 
And live past the paintings, admit yourself into the halls of life’s enchanted gates 
into its swirling vortex of emotion, misery and beauty, and that most primal of 
essences- 
Yes, fear itself, worthy sirs! 
Fear itself shall always tick, it is the portal of that past life, that startling, gnawing, 
tearing, infusions  of animals, that is man’s pathway to indulgence and despair!
There is no shine like jewels in a murky pond, for a rose dying in a garden of 
sacrilege, 
There is no greater romance than  Godly valor hopelessly caught in a tapestry of 
worldly shame and dark riches...
You shall not have me , bleak coward death!
For I stand in this night as the lone maiden of Truth... 
No there is no truth in beauty, there is truth in  the  blinding light of the 
shimmering spires of the realm above! 
Hear me, cruel silence, for I know greater love than your  cold eyes! 
Ah, yes, LIFE, let it ring, mortals, for ye are not mere beings, live more for life itself!


Details | I do not know? | |

Not Yet

Destituted from the highest throne
Shivering under the cold rain alone
To excess I am prone, but this I will demand
I beg you, Beloved do not leave this grey land

The steps echoing with the memories of your smiles
I can still see your laughter dancing on the tiles
Of this empty hallway we used to share
I dare yell, plead, don't you dare!

Leave me stranded into this foreign winter
To none of my needs it is able to catter
Oh, Love, there is still so much to do together
Your luminescent presence gone, I catch a feather

Symbol of utmost radiance
As I lose all my patience
I can't stand it anymore, I forbid you to leave!
To find yourself being alike the autumn leaves!

Not yet Love
Not yet a Dove
Not yet Love, not yet, I'm not yet in Heaven
So please, run away from the ominous Raven

Don't die yet, my one true Love
Don't depart for a land high above
I've yet to gain those porcelain wings
As the oppressive bell of death rings

I have yet to earn the title of Angel
A spirit to hear the chorus of a bell
With your name inscribed on it with impurity
And I know I will not get away with impunity

But in the end, it does not matter
As I watch it go down, this meter
Soon, it shall come unavoidable
The Bittersweet, so damnable!

I will not try to lie
I have still yet to die
So please, be patient, just a little longer
So I may welcome you, in those lands yonder...

And instead of crows eating at our rotting corpses
Into the night where the firefly boldly dances
You will find us to be nothing more than pair of dove
Dying together, writting The End in common, for Love

A flame long divided, united in demise
Bound into eternity by scarlet ties

A wildfire, spelling words of Us


Details | Imagism | |

vengance

Black is but the ebony
The road is but the souls
Souls are the corrupt ground
Which bellows in shallows
And is mellow in the blackness of broken arrows
The blood, which trickles down is the soup
And the faces, which lift, are but the black clouds
Find as they may
Or run as they prey
The few have sacrificed the iniquitous
And the just have brought the new iniquitous
Tis this a great place
Nor not says the grey man who stills with pipe
The elder of the calm moon night
Who stands and chuckles like a mountain waterfalls might
Bring it to the whole he spackles
And bring it to the place of caged bats he ripples
They only but listen to his ruling commands
And ferocious yawns
Then with some ill-mannered rejoinder he picks at the tip of his faceless finger
And those who stood in awe, now plea in pardon
The wrinkled hand of chipping bits whips and bids
Heads bobble and sooth in melting white
Then those who have perished are put abroad a boat
Aboard a ship which sits, anchored on a fishing locus
The flashes of persistence, and the roars of talking metal rain through the sky like lighting
And the flares of white, and the orange suites and illuminated crafting wands wave them away
While the man in sleek pitch black hits a cat with a shallow blunt stick
The last of his many sticks
And with it the sacrifice is placed, and his name will never drift
For his goal of death
Has allowed him failure on recalling what has happened erstwhile. 
The time when he was bleak
And his life was but a crescent, which was not bright
But bled in plight
Plight for his kin
When the arrows of the autumn night had ended their life
And vengeance was but a mere tear sight.
 


 



Details | I do not know? | |

Soft--First Scripture

Born of windy delight and softer than a light breeze
blows your soothing blissful breath amid the swaying trees
So cooly it whispers to my upturned ear
that you have not left me so early this year
you are with me still and the world is ours
we are free again to covet the seas and the stars
The world is not this cold shriveled dead thing
and you are still able to sing in clear joyful ring
I love you with amber and gold from my beating heart
with your softer than cloudy embrace touch i never wish to part
though i know that this be only dream
i linger on in this peaceful stream
wishing you were still here to bathe me in love
trying so hard to still stand to look for you up above
yet the light fades into the dusk
and the living tree is creaking into dried husk
the stars turn cold and the breeze is bitter stone
there is no softer than soft wind when i cringe alone
I sigh and I cry
why wasn't i the one to die
then i crumble into this heap
fallen into nightmarish sleep
the angels have gone from my side
and the love i once had has fled to hide
no more Autumn in this place
when i can no longer kiss your face
so fragile i am now in this decrepit state
my world of love has twisted to the clawings of hate
how could heaven bestow such a gift
and steal it away on death's wings so terrible and swift
I given up all that i had just for you
but i guess much more than that had to be due
i loved you more than those pearly gates
and maybe that is why i angered those vain fates
i love you and have you not
underneath the ground is where you will now rot
it has been more than 15 years
you would think by now that i would have conquered those fears
you didn't really love me in the end
but i was still so glad to be called your friend
the roses blush with my obsession
but it was not one derived of possession
i loved you with a love that was pure
but it was a love life could not endure
for you see there can only be one heaven
and that can not dwell here on earth
the angels turn sour in their blessing
when another heaven is given birth