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Free Verse Home Poems | Free Verse Poems About Home

These Free Verse Home poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Home. These are the best examples of Free Verse Home poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

In a Winter Cabin

Couched upon the mountain tops,
Winter bleeds white on stone.
The blinding haze of a million spots
Speckles the morning air,
Vaporous through crystalline glass.

Words woven like tapestry
Spark a fire from within.
Seeking answers to intrigue
That fill one with wonder --
An explosion of words to the heart.

Warmth from fire and leather
Fills flesh and bone with life.
Though seated within this cabin,
Ink and paper give respite
From a harsh landscape
Beyond the oak and nail.


Details | Free verse | |

Under the Willow Trees

A path strewn thick with rusty leaves led to nowhere and everywhere in our fantasies, rescuing us from after school chores and homework pages wrinkled in time; a memory come and gone returns to me. Back home, under a row of willow trees, I weep for my childhood friend, for the innocence lost, I thought I could keep, for the faded line between joy and pain that suddenly comes with age; I close moist eyes to see you dancing in rain showers and climbing up rays of sunlight, imagination uncaged; running carefree for hours - just us, two, whether skies were shades of gray or blue. We said forever, a pinky swear I remember, naïve in our make-believe world. How many years passed by, distance growing between you and I? A phone call once-in-a-while became just a Christmas card once-a-year. I hope you always knew the truth, I loved you, my dear friend. Time cannot erase our laughter caught on the autumn breeze and the childhood secrets shared on that path strewn thick with rusty leaves, trodden bare each year come fall of winter snow. Our laughter now echoes in dreams, chaffing the row of willow trees still sulking low, moss brushing tears in timeless beauty, waiting for you to come home.


Details | Free verse | |

The Mirror Of Time

I hold three magic rocks, in my hand. Rolling them over and over and over. Leaving this 
reality behind, far behind I stepped into the magic mirror and there I was back in 1959.  It 
was the same month, November.  I looked around and it was the same as I remember it had 
been then.  Mom looked so young and beautiful and said, "The school bus will be here in a 
few minutes."  I looked at the calendar and saw that it was November 25th, the day before 
Thanksgiving.  I said, "But mom, I haven't been in school in forty years."  I got this strange 
look from her but she didn't say anything.  Walking toward the door I caught a reflection of 
myself in the hall mirror.  I was so young.  My hand immediately went to my face and I 
stopped and stared at myself for a few minutes. I said, "Mom, can I stay home and be with 
you today?"  Again I got that strange look from her, then she smiled and said, "Sure, it's 
your last day before Thanksgiving anyway, why not?"  She and I sit down and talked for 
hours.  Then I said, "Do you mind if we go next door and visit with Maw Maw and Paw Paw?  
I haven't seen them in so long and I've missed them terribly!"  Again another strange look 
from mom. Next door I saw Maw Maw and Paw Paw as they had been in 1959.  I wept and 
they all looked at me so strangely.  I hugged them and kissed them all and we talked for 
hours.  Dad finally came home from work and I ran and hugged him so hard. "Dad why did 
you have to leave us in June?"  Again I got strange looks from everyone.  My tears were 
falling.  I saw Aunt Frances and Uncle Bill who lived beside Maw Maw and Paw Paw. "I've 
missed you both for so long." Strange looks again!  They didn't understand because to them, 
it was just another day in 1959.  The day grew late and I knew my time was soon ending.  I 
got near the magic mirror and mom and dad were standing there so young and healthy. I 
said, "Mom I'll see you on the other side of the mirror, but dad, I'll see you another time, 
another place."  They didn't understand.  I stepped back through and my reflection was as it 
had been before.  Mom was sitting in her chair at age 84.  I said, "Mom, do you remember 
the day before Thanksgiving, 1959, when I stayed home from school and we spent the day 
together?"  She said, "Yes, it was so strange that you could never remember anything about 
it.  It was as though you had amnesia.


Details | Free verse | |

I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,

I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,
I have heard the tales of horror, from my dark skinned foes.
I have heard the tales of terror, from others who became my friends.
And I have walked with a dark skinned woman of their tribe.
We walked in the beauty of her courage, together. Tearless. 
Tearless we both were as she spoke, for tears, only gods could cry for her.
I am a Red Skin dog.
And yet we walked together and we talked – together, fearless,
I and this swaying ebony sapling, sprung from the roots of my foes tribe.
We talked of the pitiless reality of that life she left behind, of that time
That she has left, far, far behind, like a useless scar
That has toughened over. And made her stronger. 
I learned from this daughter of my foes
That true courage is never fearless, but always stronger. Victorious,
Stronger she was by far, to this Red Skin dog
Than the thousand sons who died, in her honor. So they say. Ridiculous,
But I have heard the balance of their sins.
And for all the tales I have heard from those angry young men, and their vengeful fathers
Her horror was a thousand times more sinister. A thousand times more callous.
Horror took up residence in her home but never in her heart.
But for others, I cannot speak.
“…splinters and bursting fragments…in my mind
Ai! Tearing! Memory of tearing flesh, swallowing tears and mucus, blood and bile
…bruising and ripping garments…off my body
…filthy, familiar hands tearing at my dress…
…my legs split and broken like a wild pig slaughter, my screams smashed from my lips,
With the butt of a rifle, just used to kill a Red Skin dog…
Aieee! Clean this floor mama, mop up this spew!
It cannot be mine!
This child is not mine!
It is not mine! It is the devils own creation born in hell fire!
Born in my death! 	
Aieee! I am dead, I cannot be alive. 
I am dead and the Red Skin dogs have eaten my corpse.
Those spirits in their wingless chariot flew over the land and sea, to rescue me?
Rescue me from that black devil who said he was like Jesus to me.
I thought you were my uncle-brother…
Who else could have found us here?
Hidden away from the Red Skins and their Wingless Angels.
Only you my uncle-brother
Only you could have found us
Only you could have killed us.
And now the progeny of your evil deed suckles at my breasts
As I lie dead in the home of those Red Skin dogs you fought.”


Details | Free verse | |

The Heart Of The Edifice

                                           The Heart Of The Edifice   

                                           In the midst of the forest 
              Of skeletal trees, green cedar, pine, and brush is the thickest
                                        Standing so tall and  blissful 
                    Enduring weathering and erosion that slowly chisels,
                            Earth's rock into ever evolving work of art
                              A rock structure that use to be the heart 
                             Of the edifice where long time recurrence
                                    Of lives that lived with endurance 
                                    The, hiss, crackling fire persuades 
                                                    Warm comfort 
                                        From a chilly cold winter day, 
                                Or soaked from the hard pounding rain
                                             That chills to the bone
                            The scents of smoke, mixed with spice food,
                       Coffee, and bread cooking in a cast iron Dutch oven

                               Now habitat of natures small creatures 
                     A rock structure that use to be the heart of the edifice
                                       Standing so tall and  blissful 
                                          In the midst of the forest 
               Of skeletal trees, green cedar, pine, and brush is the thickest
                      Enduring weathering and erosion that slowly chisels,
                               Earth's rock into ever evolving work of art

                                                  By: Eve Roper
                                                        1/2/2014

 


Details | Free verse | |

My family is everywhere

My family is everywhere like wild seeds sown
On the whim and bluster of a wind
Some left for Cuba before the revolution
Bring green stalks of sweet grass to sugar
And are still there, root sunken in the earth
Grafted branches without memory now
Or recognition of ancestral home,
Separated by language and new history
Thick as the depth of our watery boundaries.

Some in Panama built the canal, but no bridge
For home when their meagre cents were spent
Too soon. I met a few with little knowledge
But no anxiety for early morning mist of blue
Over the mountain, looking still to see them
Coming home like birds when summer is done.
Some went to Venezuela to see the oil
They said was black as Africa in the new world
Brazil: there football is more than economy
Gladiators: bloodless troubadors of the new army 
And many drifted into the squalor of Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, Ecuador, searching for light
Amidst old civilizations brought to ruins
By Conquistadores majesty and Roman might.

The only one who report are those from Canada
Is it because of the language, because they proper
As they do in America. Is there nothing in them
That longs for home, to leave the Mexico to her Aztecs
Her cactus lace with golden strands of sun.
When I was in Germany, Austria, France, far away
As Holland, Rhine and Danube linking invisble
Heritage, I met them, distancing the old decay
"We are thinking to move to Taiwan or Japan"
They told me, poverty does make a barren land
So I understand the boat people, not lying
Like Columbus, they seek the same treasure
And yet for their truth reap some displeasure.
I could package it for them to sell, but cannot agree
When the wind rattle the wattle of desolation.

My family is everywhere scattered like wild seeds
In fresh forests fretting with the burden of the wind.


Details | Free verse | |

Her Lover

Moving quietly so not to wake her,
My lover half covered sighs like a purr,
We have had our pleasure
And now it's time for me to leave.
But the sight and smell causes me
A moment's thrill as I remember
our first kiss.
But I must leave, no time to dwell,
Thoughts of what could be,
Bow down to what life must be.
Without her my life is grey,
At home my other life awaits,
Here I am a lover,
At home I am needed -
but as a wife and mother.


Details | Free verse | |

A mother's treasures

A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother 
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her 
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this alletrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevaient from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths, roles and qualities
of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job 
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s


Details | Free verse | |

I Do Believe

"I Do Believe" 

The purpose of LIFE is to {Living In Faith Ever} 
to enrich God within us 
to an optimum level 
so that We as Humans 
can be guided by God 
to fuel out brothers and sisters 
with the same driving force 
to connect with the living God, 
to His existence and 
to See the Invisible, 
Believe the Incredible, and 
to Receive the Impossible 
to our everlasting journey 
to Heaven.

Rev. Samuel Mack
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com


Details | Free verse | |

A Blessed Year

    "A Blessed Year"



in the Year of 2012 our reflection
reminded how truly blessed
our family felt with strong emotion.
a new home with lovely trees
and blossoming bushes flourished
green grass for animals to enjoy
beautiful birds singing melodies
acres of ground for gatherings
and celebrations.

happiness surrounded new parents
my military son and his wife
welcomed new baby boy with
pride and joy and love.
God has given us so many reasons
to cherish each other and Life
for love rules our home always.


through sickness and death
we fought the good fight of faith
and trials made us a strong family
material possessions allow feelings 
of importance ... but ...
we learned that love is the 
key element to this earthly existence.

so in the Year of 2012
we share this love with everyone
thus extolling God, who loves us all
unconditionally.


*For Carol Sunshine Brown's In the Year 2012 Contest. 


Details | Free verse | |

In The Land 'O Green

Sun declines, beneath the emerald rim
And I'll be headin' home...
to a cottage in the moor lands 
with a fire to warm me' bones

The kettle of beans are boilin'
and some coals will bake me scones
I will rest my weary shoulders
And be glad for what I've seen

I've witnessed bracken turn so reddin'
like a wildfire on the mountain
And wee nanny goats on hillsides,
too many now, for countin'

Heather waves in summer breezes...
Granite stones, and bogs of grass,
water gleams like shining glass
and harshness blows for but a reason
to turn around the seasons
Thar' be wavin' sails upon the blue
And leafy shamrocks on the green 
Where rugged shores, and seagulls cry,
and pink skies capture me

Friendly folks be bearin' ruddy cheeks,
There's a colleen, fair thee lass
Who will tip our mug at village pub, 
And we'll make a toast to Patrick's kin
and order one more glass

Let me always sink me' Irish eyes  
upon the rugged land
Upon the skies, upon the streams, 
where druid legends live
Upon the grand home of the clan, 
where many roots began

Where the ole' pale moon at nightfall, 
scatters me memories all a'glowing
Of fair thee rose of old Tralee,
over garden trellis growin' 

Charming valleys, greener hillsides,
fill thee heart of all 'me clan
Pick ye' a shamrock.... look for gold, 
shake yer' hands with leprechauns
Kiss a Blarney stone in sweet Killarny, 
come to all that's home to me
Where names of O'Reily, or McDougal sprung
and the color green began

________________________________________________


Details | Free verse | |

A homeless bride-w

I shall daily visit the beauty parlor
And make myself beautiful for you.
I shall never clean the house
So that my skin is not tarred.
I shall ever watch my figure,
Eating calorie less foods and drinks.

I shall stay home all day
And will never be stay at home mom
But will go for Disco at night.
I shall not take drugs
But a drink or two in limits.
I shall awake late in the morning
So that you are not disturbed.

I shall adorn the house to earn
Adjectives from the neighbours.
I shall buy the furniture to invent
Nouns to be told to the visitors.
Our house will be all pronouns
But will never admit verbs as
They shake the very foundation.

*** I wrote this poem much earlier noticing a young married woman of a modest family adopting the modern living going astray from the household chores *** Based on a real
person.

The poem was posted on 1/16/2007

========================
Dr. Ram Mehta

Tenth place win in:
Contest: Any Twisted Poem sponsored by Destroyer A Poet


Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Free verse | |

My India

Let me set something straight -
Right here, right now!
Let me put India in the right perspective,
Let me banish some myths,
Some gross misconceptions,
And take you beyond elephants,
Sacred cows, snake charmers and yoga,
Beyond Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Taj Mahal,
To a civilization rooted for
over 5,000 years in the past
To a land rich - majestically rich -
In many cultures, customs and traditions,
In a bewildering variety of races,
Religions, languages and folk arts,
In a vibrant tradition of dance and music,
In religious festivals and traditional events,
In saints, sadhus, gurus and sages,
In gods, goddesses, munis and mahatmas,
In temples, palaces, shrines and monasteries;

I'll baby-steps you through a land
Of Vedas and Upanishads,
Of epic stories and incredible mythologies,
Of Ramayana, Mahabharata and Bhagavad Gita,
Through one of world's great spiritual sanctuaries,
Where religion is a way of life;

An overwhelming, complex land -
Its charm, its vitality and yes, its confusion,
Atonce alarming and enticing.
And that's the way India is:
Elusive, confusing, contradictory,
mysterious and exasperating!
Beyond easy description or analysis,
A phenomenal diversity of dress
and manners making one aware
of a different world -
A veritable fairyland!

No other country offers quite such
A spectacle of teeming masses that
continue to enrich the heritage of mankind,
Nowhere do the past and present
coexist in more colorful promiscuity -
An incomparable country,
Easy to love, hard to forget!

"There's only one India!" raved Mark Twain,
"A wonderland of fabulous wealth
and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags ..."
"The cradle of the human race,
The birthplace of human speech,
The mother of history,
The grandmother of legend and
The great grandmother of tradition."

This, indeed, is my country
Where I was born - 
An Indian at heart,
An American in spirit!
Namaste!
Khuda Hafiz, Jai Ramji Ki,
OM Radhe Shyam, Sat Sri Akal,
Jai Hind!!


Details | Free verse | |

Button

The ashtray sat upon a cherry wood side table.
She smoked in the house,
upsetting her coughing roommate.
Under the ash was a white button,
now smeared gray and black.
It fell off of her blouse in 1989,
the year her mother moved away.
Every time she lit a cigarette
she thought of her mother,
far away somewhere collecting
porcelain dolls with rosy cheeks.
Nothing fazed her,
not even the last hurricane 
that soaked the first floor.
The only thing she ever winced at,
was that old white button.


Details | Free verse | |

The Evolution of Learning (Part One)

It amazes me how much man has evolved
Yet, How little he has learned
All around the globe
Millions die of disease and starvation
While the ever so intelligent creature known as man
Spends millions upon millions of dollars every single day
Killing each other
Instead of finding cures for the ill or feeding starving children
Oh sure, we dabble in those efforts
But we are committed to killing each other
Governments all around the globe
Spend most of their money
On their armies
Either to defend or attack
Their enemies
Supposedly, the most intelligent creature on earth
The intellectual creature known as man
If I may go so far
Mans commitment to war and killing
Goes far beyond any one mans term in office
It goes far beyond any one mans lifetime
It goes far beyond any century or any one era
From beginning to end, top to bottom
East to west, north to south
Red, yellow, brown, black or white 
Our commitment to killing each other
Is undeniable
How can a species that is smart enough to split atoms 
Creating weapons that will kill millions
Still be stupid enough to do it?
And now I see on the science channel
That man has now devised the Platonic beam
A beam of light that just disintegrates the target in an instant
At what price you ask?
Well I don’t know but I reckon if we diverted that money
To say solar energy projects
They could probably put a solar energy system
On every home in the world for free
Thus solving the energy crisis
Not to mention food in the icebox and medicine in the cabinet
Because of course when you create such an amazing new weapon
You need an entire new type of ship to deploy it from
Thus is born the next generation of war birds
They jettison into space 
Then go into super afterburner (A jet engine minus oxygen)
Which they said would reach like 20,000 miles an hour
So you could shoot halfway around the world
Disintegrate your enemy
And be home in time for supper
I believe when speaking of politics
It’s not a National Crisis
It’s a Global Epidemic


Details | Free verse | |

''home of my childhood''

 ~~

my mind takes me back through the tattered pages of my life
                        to a place of warmth, security and love . . . . .
    
   to my mother's kitchen with its big cupboards and old stove
and a blue teapot on the kitchen table and grandma telling me of life
                                  of people in the family long dead . . .

it was at that same table that I read my first poems while sipping tea
     oh!  I recall father shovelling snow in winter all bundled up

and a warm fireplace waiting within . . .
                       then at night in an attic room this little girl was tucked in

                with forever loving hands, hugs and kisses . . .  .

_______________________________

January 24, 2015

Free Verse

Entered in the contest, Home Sweet Home, sponsor Skat, placement N/A

________________________________

My poetry is not measured by the number of contests I win,
but by the poems I create that take my breath away . . . 


Details | Free verse | |

Saving my Brother -- Trevor Depugh

Dear God, He's done it once again,
He had to go back, and take care of them,
His real momma and his sister, and his step Daddy too,
They needed things, that only he could do. 
It's a bad part of town, he's told me so,
I asked him not to leave, but he said he had to go.
Bring him back, I want him in one piece,
You brought him once before, 
Now Please God, return him to me.
My brother is my savior, I worship at his feet,
I need him in my life, his presence is so sweet.
Whats that!? 
I heard a slamming door, that must be him now,
I'll pray again later, that's a promise, my vow.
Thank you God, for bringing him home to me,
If he was awake I'm sure he'd agree.
He came home last night, with a black and blue eye,
His lip was swollen, and he had hidden tears in his eyes.
He ribs were bruised, in fact I think one was broke,
His head was throbbing, when he came in he barely spoke. 
I helped him down the hall, though he's much bigger than I,
And when his knees gave out, you must have been nearby. 
I somehow found a strength I never had before,
And with my arms around him, I got him through the door,
I laid him on my bed, and told him not to sleep,
I stayed up all night, and tended to his needs.
Dear God, thank you, for keeping him alive,
I don't know what happened, but I didn't let myself cry.
He's my brother God, and my love for him will thrive,
We watch each others backs, you don't have to ask why. 
You answered my prayers, you brought my brother to me,
You gave him a home, God I hope you can see,
We don't need an answer, though our question is as simple as can be,
We sometimes wonder, did you give me to him, or him to me. 


Details | Free verse | |

My Journey Home

My journey home is closer today,

than it was yesterday.

Someday my heart aches and pain

will pass me by.

My journey home will be a

most beautiful trip,like no one

has ever taken before.

Mother has been waiting for me,

there on those goldend shores,

ever since her parting from this old world

many years ago.

Taking one day at a time,

until I take my

journey home, when I sit down

with my Lord and thank Him

for what he did for me

on Calvary that day so long ago.

written 4-24-11


Details | Free verse | |

Lost myself in Mexico

Well, I jumped across the earth to the other side
and found myself in a place called Mexico
I wanted to home so I told them lies
about what I thought how much I hated it here

I left my green card in my passport
and I left my passport alone at home
So I walked to a bar in a place called Mort
and I had whatever they gave to me

I woke up later with some energy
So I walked down to the beach to swim it off
it was getting dark and I lost all since of me
at last request I stayed the night with ?Maria?

I spent day two ATVing down the drive
and spent my money on a donkey
I got bit by a rattlesnake on the ride
no one helped me but I stayed alive

I limped to the nearest shelter
and I drank some more anyway
until someone screamed to go help her
as I turned around to see a dying girl

I gave her a hand and we fell in love
I still can't explain how it pulled it off
or what she was dying from- some-thing?
we slept on the couch of the bartenders club

In the morning we ran away 
to find another job to pay
for my trip home in May
and all my boss had to say... was:

How was your stay in Mexico?
and I spoke very softly
in spanish I never knew
"Nunca encontré un Taco Bell"

And that's the story of what I went through


Details | Free verse | |

in absolute darkness

Do you know what its like to be 
in absolute darkness?
I do. 
And I want to be back
on a foggy night
where winter doesn't fall too far
the only thing you can see 
is a distant street light
yellow and gold
glowing from the distance
the wet leaves that fell from the trees 
fill the night 
with a dewy smell
darkness. 
I turn the key
bright headlights
flood the road
one line, two lines, 
they all combine
into a white blur keeping me 
from crossing into the abyss
I could drive forever 
alone. 
I want to be gone again
back to my home.


Details | Free verse | |

If Shoelaces Sang Little Rich Town Blues

Not in tea leaves, in shoelaces tie existence--their harsh and meshing material
bound, tethered, undone with a gentle pull. 
 
The bunny ears
and clumsy fingers bouncing along the faux-marble
hallways: the future politicians and CEO's and poets
wiping caked mucus on the white-washed brick foundations--
babbling babbling babbling babbling.
A blood-stone bed surge of tidal maturation,
soon to be lost in the variant eddies of life;
the finger-painted puzzle-box open and unsolvable.
Their parents, for they are honorable, as
picket-fences are honorable, as
tracksuits are honorable, as
Zoloft is honorable, sit ajar
on school streets of vibrant myriad cars quietly dilapidating
behind Armor-All dashes. Old ladies waving dutifully
at lifeless lawn ornaments like lifeless lawn ornaments soon themselves in front of homes because
the youth only want something old when it's time to marry,
Googling what the heart feels for the occasion.
 
Smokestack color windows of depreciating souls searching drunken
down the glossy oak
bar through bent light of whiskey glasses and broken values
they blame on Nietzsche and the price of condoms,
finding a sad reflection seated at this world's dampened end to spread
like ashen snow
again and again and again on sweat-stained futons,
after the lurch toward the water, sloppy with kisses
and lace.
Church bells sound off one and two
O! clock tower
marching Heaven to Hell but got lost in Devil's Lake. They do not hear
the beaten shopping cart radio wobbling like a tripodal Dog, 
telling us Jesus stayed inside because White is translucent in the rain.
 
But,
the wander-footed waywards, leaden eyed, tranced in droning hums of small town streetlights--
or red red copper hangers
or lucid jaundice confessions
or gangrenous light-slivered closets--
break half-empty
beer bottles on familial-faced slogans plastered to an under-bellied bridge and sway
like ebbing wind on the unsure-step shore banks, drooping wasp legs
over the ever-rising precipice
to vein-rush Hellgrammite powder
with their one remaining shoelace
and leave their shoes behind.


Details | Free verse | |

It hurt me

Sitting here knowing that you are laying in that bed
Helpless on meds that you dont want to be on
Not knowing were you are
It hurt me to see you that way Mother
Praying to the Lord that you are going to be ok
Praying that he dont take you so soon away
I hate this so much
Seeing you in and out and its nothing I can do
I just wish apon a star
That all your sickness go away
and you dont have to deal with this no more
It sucks spending your Bday in that bed 
I pray that that you get better soon
so you can come home
I pray that all this go away and you never have to deal with this any more
No matter what we go though
I only have one mother
and I dont know how I would live my life without you
Please come home and get better 
So i can stop this crying
Please all your pain and sickness go away
So I dont have to worry about getting that call oneday
and I am not there by your side
You are my mother and I love you
If you have a mother and you all are not on the best term
Its best to do that soon
Because you never know when they time is up
I love you mother
My one and only Queen
Please get better and come home soon


Details | Free verse | |

The Silence

In the silence of the night
I hear the Owl's call 
Haunting 
Melodic 
Beckoning secrets 
secrets kept locked inside my 
shadowed Self 
I wander, not entirely aimless 
Searching
and
seeing by sounds and
smells
The muted warmth of my footsteps 
lead me down 
This path 
Encased in twilight 
and
Mists of waking dreams
I follow the call, hidden meaning 
Of deep roots and hanging moss 
Draped from branches of Oaks 
I emerge from the darkness 
Bathing in moonlight...
 
There before me, He stands, 
welcoming me home 
The chill of the night leaves me 
shivering 
Wanting 
Warmth 
I feel tired, succumbed
to this endless plodding 
But I'm finally home 
I follow Him in
Through
Down...
Deeper into this Forest of all 
beginning things 
He turns to me 
As the Owl speaks the midnight hour 
He lays me down 
On softness 
Dead fall 
Wet soil
And scents of my first birth 
He covers my needy mouth with his 
Breathing Earth and life and
Heat
And the scent of wet, growing things 
I inhale, sucking it in
Past all barriers
Until it spreads, takes shape 
As a vision behind my mind's Eye
As I lay cradled on the forest floor, 
this god's arms encircling me, 
becoming me...

As darkness fades into the dawn,
I wake from this misty dream, but 
find no god...

Just my Self, staring back at me


Details | Free verse | |

So Soft

                         So Soft

Serene and silent the head caresses pillow
Landing soft and slowly with a sigh
Quiet sounds of silken quilt
In covered warmth
Receives the fragile woman worn of age
Contentment on her face
As she finds comfort and companion with relief 
In design and form beneath
As she slips between the sheets
A slower moving body
In the cozy bedroom for some tranquil sleep
Outside, snowflakes count down the hours  
Blanketing the relaxed house near heaven
In penetrating peace
Mounting are the flowing mounds of white 
Building moments upon other open moments
Smiles take the woman on a cloud
To drift as well
Composed and calm
Upon her pillow down

             8/21/14 Seasonal Bliss poetry contest


Details | Free verse | |

December

She didn't remember who I was
But it didn't really matter
Her eyes would light up like sunshine
Each time I entered the room.

She'd say, "Oh! Please, sit a spell",... and I would pull up a chair...
I handed her the bag.  She peeked inside.
Her smile was like a happy child.
A cookie....she could always find delight in a cookie.
You would have thought it was a pot of gold.

As we chatted, she told me her birthday was coming.
"December 19th!", she would remind me..
Forgetting that she'd told me many times before.
Although it was only summer...I said "We'll have to celebrate!"
And she said...."Oh yes..let's have a party!"
Everyone knew that this lady loved a party.

"I must be going!", she suddenly said 
Said again, with a worried brow...just as she fretted the day before..  
"The girls will be home from school!"
She looked around for her purse.
"I have three girls, you know,.....they will be coming home from school."
She repeated once more...."I have three daughters, you know."

I told her the girls will be fine...and that I'd like to visit a little longer.
That seemed to calm her.  "Have you seen my ring?"..
She held her gnarled and withered hand high for me to see.
A flash of glitter graced her finger, sparkling just like the stars in the sky.
"My husband gave it to me, ...a Valentine surprise!" she said.  "He was a rascal, you know!"
"Oh,...it's beautiful, Irene"...I responded. 
"Did you know", she smiled again...."My husband gave this to me as a Valentine surprise!"...

Finally,  it was time for me to leave, and I started to say goodbye.
"Oh...would you mind taking me with you?"...."The girls will be coming home from school!"
I told her I would check on her girls...not to worry.
And then I told her I would be back again tomorrow..

"I have a birthday coming", she said....December l9th!!"
Once more...I said..."Yes...we will have a party"....
"Did you see my ring?"..."My husband gave it to me on Valentines, it was a surprise!"

And I said..."It's lovely Irene....as lovely as the stars in the sky"
As lovely as Irene....
Goodnight Irene goodnight....the stars will shine brighter tonight,...
Goodnight Irene, goodnight....


_________________________________________________________________________
Submitted for Dane Ann's contest "What Kindness Means to You"


Details | Free verse | |

Fields of the Black Rose

Flowing fields of black 
Roses the hue of night 
Dark meadow take me home 
Relieve me of my fright 
And take me back. 
Blackened fields of ashy rose 
Take me to my home 
Where I'll never see the sun again 
Where I'll never hate 
And never bend 
Where we only see in shades of gray 
Where summer sun has shone its last 
And November wind is here to stay. 
Where I can go forget my past 
And never have to pay 
For the things I've done. 
Blackened fields of ashy rose 
Take me to your home 
Where we all see in shades of gray 
And I can rest in the coldly blowing wind. 
Forget my face forget my name 
Forget my form forget my sin 
Let me stay and waste away 
Please won't you take me in?


Details | Free verse | |

Innocence of a Child

Mister,
Why did you hit Mommy?

Mister,
You can't punish me,
You're not my daddy!

Mister, 
You say not to hit,
But your actions declare you a hypocrite.

Mister,
You push Mommy down,
But you say not to tell unless I say she fell.

Mister,
I try my darnedest to be good,
But you say I'm not action like I should.

Mister,
You hurt my feelings,
But you say you're just teaching me something with meaning.

Mister,
You come home with more than just Mommy,
But you say I saw nothing

Mister,
The night you came home drunk,
You know the night you shot Mommy with a shotgun . . . 
The night you left her beaten, bruised, scarred,
Bleeding on the ground. . . 
The night she went to sleep and never woke up

That night I was left alone,
Helpless,
Nowhere to go.

Mister,
Why did you do it
When you said you loved Mommy?

Mister, 
Why did you leave me stranded 
When you said you cared about me?

Mister,
Because of you
I am left here to die
Beside this dumpster where you told me to lye.

Mister,
I've been waiting here like you said,
For days,
Weeks,
Months,
But you r face I have not seen

You have let me down, Mister,
But that is nothing new.

You always told me to be a good child,
So I will.
With what's left of me, 
I will wait,
Calling your name . . . 

Mister . . . ?
Mister . . . ?




Details | Free verse | |

Lost and Found

She once said
on a stormy night
before the first drop of rain graced tongues:
"Passion is overrated.  It's out of style"
The crack of clouds blew grey into her face at that moment.
Umbrellas turned their skin inside out
The surf tasted it's own salt and spat it out in disgust
The black beyond broke rain capsules and sang in thunderous laughter.
Passion. 
Lost?
Misplaced?
Nonessential??
We caught her up in our raincoats and hurried her into the nearest cafe.
Three hot coffees and her chattering lips.
Steam in swirly rings 'round her fingers as she shook.
As she cried.
Passion swarmed out of her words and caught the cafe on fire
It burned while we sat there
Peeling paint and freezing fingers
Raining sky in midnight's palm
We listened as she brought up memories
All ignited, having slept long past deadlines of ardor.
We cried with her in conundrum dreams
and kept the burnt out structure erect by our finger tips to scaffold.
A woman grieving should not be disturbed.
Suddenly, her words made sense.
The sky cleared
Her eyes swallowed their blue and returned the ocean to it's salt
We held hands, stretched across a cherry red booth reflecting every broken capillary in her gaze.
Sisters united in empathy's grasp
a circle of an undivided enclave
We stepped over the ashes of her memories
and walked her home despite her obstinate refusal for one of us to stay over.
Count down to 3am
and the petunias lining her front walk
kissed her ankles with the thanks of rain
She smiled and passionately picked the velvet purple 
and placed it in our palms.
We saw the full spectrum of rainbows and heartaches
and growling thunder on the verge of lost adherence to love
all on her face in one evening
That night, she went home alone, to sleep on her side of the bed
with the shivering almost subsiding into the faintest scent of brewing hope.


Details | Free verse | |

LOVE

Loyalty
One self
Virtuous
Eternity