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Introspection Autumn Poems | Introspection Poems About Autumn

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Details | Quatrain | |

Windowpanes

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.


Details | Free verse | |

Unfettered Words

Sometimes between the lines,
trembles the hallows of unspoken goodbyes,
expectant and charged, like a theater scene,
in the moments before the curtain rises.

In the dream that I've had,
I am southward bound, so it must  be early autumn.
Someone has turned a giant dimmer switch,
and the sky is grayer.....
Wild thorn-berries have been picked, all the branches are bare, 
the gutters are filling, and evenings are long.
Through the limbs of knotted trees, 
a sun flitters between light and shadow.

Leaves are adrift, disturbed,
littering the  twilight sky
with unfettered words,
clamoring against the leadlight of a window,
pleading to be heard.

Somehow, the leaves are swept away,
by a bridled hesitation.
No summer aria has been sung,
and the words go unsaid.
Leaves fall to the ground,
and the light leaves the world.

The red velvet drape descends,
leaving unfettered leaves, and unsaid words, adrift, in the dark.






______________________________________________
7/29/14
For The Contest "Vibrant Verse"  Sponsored By Charlotte Puddifoot


Details | Free verse | |

DECLARATIONS OF A SOCIAL SCIENTIST

DECLARATIONS OF A SOCIAL SCIENTIST Indeed, I am that Poet and know it. Just in transition to a more enriched poetry form. I want to talk about life, politics, and religion. Maybe not simultaneously but how I am feeling today. I tell you life isn't a bowl of cherries. I am not harvesting berries. I live a vivacious existence. I nature walk and take beautiful pictures. I thrive in my leisure time. Even more so, I work until my mind unwinds. I am just a thrill seeker but not an extremist. I am an illustration of wellbeing. In fact, I am striving for better physical dexterity. In all, my body desires more agility. To eradicate the clumsiness, My ability to monitor my own quickness is propensity depleted. My mind, body, and spirit have superseded. Oh, I am told that it is all right to be big headed. Of course, gloating is good for your inner being. Dwindling is not something I will let occur. I am the booster of morale. Be assured that I am there for others who seek a physiological mental form. Do I appear to be titivated? I am what I have stated. Doubtlessly, there will be jealousy. Without doubt, they will envy me. Undoubtedly, this will not hinder. I have overcome obstacles since the being of my existence. Liberated from birth via a nation of government, I am free. I can wave my hand and be seen. I can stand up for what is right. I can ignite the political fire. I can educate my mind to genius. I can defeat enmity. Negativity may come but I disallow it to be a formula. I am abreast. |_____________________________________| Penned on October 31, 2014!


Details | Etheree | |

Cruelest Winds

Autumn leaves released against the cruelest winds
unmoored, without  a distant shore to land
have no instruction, nor direction, 
swept up on waves of winter seas
Drifting boats without their oars
curled tight against themselves
Here, there, ...soaring where?
until they fall
and crumble
into
dust

While
I must
not stumble 
and must not curl
tight against myself
but be kin to nature...
soar the waves of winter seas
adrift in a sea of knowledge
following directions of my heart
unmoored, but with a distant shore to land
against the future of autumn's cruelest wind



__________________________________________
9/12/14  For Shadow's Contest: Double Etheree


Details | Free verse | |

Where Frozen Embers Still Burn

The sun had a way, of lighting the fires that would often die, and turn to ash, and dash our hope The wind had a way, to spread the flame, to light the way or die in vain Sun-ripe gold and red leaves have lined each trail and every road with heavy brilliance Our eyes, perhaps unwise, were often blinded by the glare But embers, frozen there, remained alive Approaching autumn, there is new fire Ripe with the sun, we have been shaped and formed grieving over postscripts, of a faded summer sky while the outstretched arm of autumn reaches through the trees--- Her leaf-fluttered hand opens fingers wide brushing passed branch silhouettes, to look into the sky and has tossed the evening embers to light our way
________________________________________________________ For Gail's Contest: Where Frozen Embers Still Burn 8/27/14


Details | Personification | |

MY POEMS

.                         ‘Violin’ was written on a soft dark velvet night,
                As I drifted - in the dreams -  of the flickering -  candle light;
           Ne’er pre-planned -  nor pondered - nor was she - pre-conceived,
        She came from deep within me, appearing  on the screen,
               As did my favorite poem - my darling ‘Cannon Lee’.

                ‘The Love of a Gentlemen’ -  and ‘Where the Heart Resides,’
                   Came from treasured memories - I tried to keep alive;
                   With words - chosen carefully - to create solidity,
                          I brought them back to life - to live eternally,
                  In vivid hues - more beautiful - than all the autumn leaves.

                   Others - fell like drops of dew  - from flying fingertips,
           That raced across the keyboard  - in hopes they wouldn’t miss,
                The chance to share the beauty - my eyes now fell upon,
           Through the kitchen window  - across the river -  and beyond,
            Where fields of liquid diamonds - glistened in the early dawn.

                    Others came in metaphors -  disguising secrets held;
                      To painful in reality - for me to ever tell. 
                ‘The Rose and the Thorn’ -  poured herself upon the page,
                     A sonnet of over-whelming grief  - rising up from hidden rage,
                         Releasing me forever - from my gilded cage.
                                           
                                                     ~~~~~

                        These poems I write - come day come night,
                                  Come candle or come neon light,
                       Come wind, come rain, come joy, come pain,
                They are the life - the Great Creator -  breathed in me;
                                         They are my breath! 
                                          They are my poetry!

                                                      ~~~~~


                               Author:  Elaine George
                               Written:  January 13th, 2010

Inspired by:  Deborah Guzzi's contest 'How Do You do It - How do you write your poems'?
PLACED: SECOND

Authors Note:  This poem was written on route to Bath, North Carolina via Ferry 
crossing.  It was written on a note-pad from the' Hampton Inn' and transferred 
to my lap-top after returning to Swansborro.


Details | Free verse | |

Transitory

“Look up,” she cried,
And the rains came swiftly,
Overwhelming her youth
With migrant purpose.

Summer’s demise,
So abrupt,
Interrupted her sound-scape,
Giving her pause.

“Look around,” she said,
And autumn bowed to her,
A colorful character
In shades of golden afternoons.

Sequestered among
Such vividness,
She found solace and comfort
Through the grace of experience.

“Look up,” she laughed,
And silver dusted her hair,
Weighing the diversity
She wore as a crown.

Abstract changes
Became her teacher,
A benevolent
Yet unforgiving presence.

“Look around,” she said,
And spread her arms wide,
Dancing in the perspective
Of winter.

This life is transitory,
Best marked
By the seasoning
Of one’s attitude.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Seasons and Imaginations


Wind so cold.
Blowing.
Fondles my face.
Tickling.
The tears from heaven.
Pouring. 
Tapping. 
Dancing.
Unrelenting.
I wonder if i wish
    to stop them
From numbness,
    to waking,
          then sensing.

The little voice in me says,
Wait, don't go.
Stay a little longer. I plead.
Sing for me today, rain.
With the gliding rhythm on my piano,
                                                  I'll play.
Chilly Wind, caress my bare skin 
     with the pure coldness that you bring.
Unusual,
     like it's my first time in the snow.
Somehow, 
     the fire tree never fades in the picture.
The yellow sunkissed leaves, too.
What is it about Summer and Fall
    that I can't forget?
Memories. Sweet imaginations.

The chilly rain. The misty wind.
You are here. 
Freeze me with the sharp coldness you give.
Calm me. Maybe, comfort me.
And, if you leave
Will you visit me when summertime comes?
Before it gets too late
   And again I fold.



Details | Free verse | |

Dreams and Reality

When I awoke 
from that place once dreamed 
when I was seventeen, 
and looked around
and saw how swiftly autumn came
with falling years, ….
I have no tears
yet, still, I get,
a few small pangs,
remembering….

A tinge of blue, a bit askew, construed regrets
So futile yet…they linger near... 

My eyes were wide, with expectation,
when youth was mine, 
So little did I know
what line or direction I would go

The plans and dreams and schemes I chose....
I would touch and teach and rush to change
And make an impact in the chain...

My offerings would change the world...
I would be heard, leave a mark, light a spark
A legacy would be my life….
No matter pain, or consequence, or sacrifice

_

   Instead of course, I stayed, on course…like others do
   My dream turned into sanity…
   Those youthful schemes had sincerity, 
   I see them now with clarity
   
   What I've learned since then, makes sense to me
   Some things are simply meant to be
   Those dreams became a family…

   My offerings have changed the world, in grander ways
   I do believe
   My children came, first one, then two, then three
   I never dreamed of dreams so full
   Three supreme adults, are the result 
   
   How dreaming dreams, can still come true
      and often is
            in fact, the true, remarkable
                                reality….


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Inspiration

I never knew I'd be in heaven
In the autumn of my years,
Or that I'd be immerged
In the brilliant art of words,
Or float above operatic notes,
Or view ballet through
My elated tears.

I never thought I'd meet
Inspiration face to face,
Or feel it rise within me
With a poet's surrendering grace.
I just know that I'm contented
As profound love keeps flowing
From my impassioned heart.
This is the gift that artists
Of this world yearn to impart.

© Connie Marcum Wong


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 | |

When Autumn Comes

When autumn comes to drop it's leaves.
Unreconciled, the branches greive.
To enter winter's long goodbye.
Awaiting spring, again to sigh.

Amidst the heat of summer's sun.
The planted seed will soon be done.
Only the rain of heavens love.
Can help the plant rise up above.

The seasons we all have to live.
Are waisted if we don't forgive.
A heart that's full of pain and sorrow.
Requires hope to meet tomorrow.

When someone needs a helping hand.
It's nice when they can join the band.
To know that they can sing along.
To harmonize in life's long song.


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 | |

Woodpecker

I keep pecking at the tree of life
Only finding the bugs of strife.
No nourishment for my aching heart
No detailed map or starry chart.

Pieces of bark I chip away
Searching for the essence of yesterday.
Rings of wisdom in the tree
My eyes too blind to clearly see.

The autumn of my life is here
For spring and summer I shed a tear.
For if I knew what I know now
Would have done it different somehow.

Yet different choices would have led
To different sets of regret.
Better to stop pecking at the tree
Maybe it made, for a better me.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Words Like Wine & Water

It's difficult to fabricate a verse
whose words convey like water in a stream,
but one should try, for there is nothing worse
than words that cannot flow nor form a theme.

I wish to write with words imbued with spring:
the kind that bloom within the reader's mind
and linger with the scent that season brings;
no better words than these can writers find.

Though, words of autumn also can console,
and so I'd like my words to warmly fall
as different colors toward a common goal;
and, like that season, may such words enthrall.

Upon my page I wish for words like oil:
acutely bold and never poor in point,
the kind that gurgle under ivory soil
and long to meet the eyes that they'll anoint.

Have not you ever yearned for words like song--
the sort of dialect that sings when said,
or maybe words whose voices carry strong
within the reader's mind and ring when read?

I want my words to thrive like fervent fire--
engulfing every eye that wanders near,
to dance with little match and never tire,
for words should last and never cease to sear.

It's also my desire to write like ice,
with words akin to water-- smooth yet sound,
the kind that naturally form and gleam concise
when brought to light where thirsty eyes are found.

But every word at least should taste like wine:
a flavor fermented and rightly earned--
the kind when sipped again, tastes more refined,
the kind that urges readers to return.


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 | Ballad | |

A FALLING MAN

The wind passed through the trees 
A delicate touch 
A delicate leaf, 
fell on me 

Crisp and tan, 
down it fell... 
You cannot change 
A turning leaf 
A falling leaf 
A falling man 

I held it in my hand 
So light... 
So fragile... 
How this leaf could withstand 
A Summers season 
Now a dying Autumn, 
in this changing land 

The colour turned... 
The leaves fell on me 
A falling man, 
in a changing Autumn land 

A delicate touch 
A delicate leaf 
Could be crushed 
Yet, with a soft blow 
I let an Autumn leaf go 

The leaves falling... 
From an Autumn tree 
Crisp and tan 
A falling man 
A falling leaf 
A falling me 

I will appear 
Lush and green, 
in a summer next year 
A delicate leaf 
you have seen 
you have let it go 
in a changing colourland so 


Details | Verse | |

Past

Another year has gone, it just slipped away,
Without notice or warning or eulogies to say.
On purpose, I barely register its passing…only crack
A bitter smile;
A half-raised, quizzical eyebrow, maybe, laced with a brief 
Sense of a long forgotten once close friend
Giving up the ghost.

From starved tree branches the leaves tumble down,
Sheets of rain guillotine on this dirty old town.
I watch the autumn gale axing…havoc from
The frozen North.
I'm digging graves for memories, perhaps, meticulously fast,
For they really need interment
As they are the living dead.

Funny, it's the first time ever, I realise I'm getting old,
The heart misses beats and the room feels always cold.
I see the lines etch on my face…gritted warp
Of aching bones.
And try as I might to shove longing and regret back into
Their woodworm coffins,
It does not keep the pain at bay
When the past craves resurrection.


Details | Free verse | |

Down Fall

Pride and prejudice has been ripped from me,
and my strength has abandoned me,
yet my will still crashes against the 
breach within.
My citadel a long forgotten fortitude
left to rot and decay.
As my soul seeks refuge in other hosts
to take and mingle while balancing
my mental ballast before it erupts.
With guilt peeking in on me 
to remind me i'm still in debt.
While my Autumn years have yet to arrive,
I feel vandalized,sterilized,and alone.
The very root system of my essence
has retracted the twilight of my descent
is not as dark as one would imagine,and
yet I am still a minor in time and
I can not consent to my downfall.


Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!


Details | Rhyme | |

Autumn Nights

Oh Autumn, how I love your days
Your brilliant multicolored sights
But, I'm sorry that I just can't say
The same thing about your nights.

For your cold damp autumn nights
Bring with them your autumn mists
And within your mists dwell sights
That I would just as soon resist.

Those Painful sights that stab the heart
From memories that wound the most
Sights that have torn my life apart...
Sights, that have long become ghosts.

Those long since banished ghosts
That dwell there within your mists
Those ghosts that boast the most
Of my bitter sentimental trysts.

Some ghosts have anguished eyes
Who in their sorrow point and glare
And others who just drift quietly by
Seem, as if they were impaired.

Still others clutch at barren breasts
While feeling some forgotten pain
Entombed within their misty nests
Waiting there, eternally in vain.

I do try hard to not look or stare
But sometimes I just can't resist
Those ghosts that dwell out there
Within your cold damp autumn mists.

Oh Autumn, how I love your days
Your warmth and brilliant sights
But Oh sweet Lord, to Thee I pray
Please save me from autumn nights!



                               Timothy I. Brumley


Details | Imagism | |

A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex


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 | 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 | Light Poetry | |

Butterfly

I once was like a catipiller young,naive,and new
Always living from my heart not knowing what
else to do.Easy to take advantage of, that is 
just the case, people would walk over me
like I was their dirty used up suitcase.
Now I feel a newness coming, like a light
shining from the sky, colors fill my world
and I know I am blooming into a butterfly.
Purple,Pink, Blue and Green I can feel them
flowing through. Colors of the rainbow raising
me into full bloom. Wise and strong I am becoming
My faith leads me where I need to go giving me
insight and wiseness for only me to know.
I have not  done this on my own you see
I have been guided by God and Angels
on this Earth. Wise words the wisdom at
it's best comes from a wise lady who
seems to know me best. Lucky, I am 
to have her in my life, she always shoots
it straight and tells me like it is, knowing
her words touch my heart and gives me tons of faith..
I feel like flying through the sky or climbing 
a tree way up high. I feel like observing the 
world just like a brand new butterfly so as I
Bloom I become Anew something unlike the past
Smart and wise beautiful on the inside and outside 
 a touch of color here a touch of color there
makes me glow and become a beautiful blooming butterfly...


Written By: Christina A McCullouch 
04/09/2013


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 | Free verse | |

And, you will be holding my hand




Please, let me imagine that we will come here again 
In the warm springtime rain, or in cold winter chill, 
When the ground glistens clean, and keen in the sun
When we breathe clouds of cotton and the morning is still
We will wear our astonishment, with feigned awed surprise
At the splendor that lays bare, as the frost stings our eyes 
We will wear wooly jackets to keep us snug warm
While snowflake confetti will bounce off my nose
~
And you will be young, and I will be fair
You will take my two hands, and pull me aside
and kiss me and tell me how love never dies
You will promise the sun, and the moon and the stars
You will tell me you love me, that the world will be ours         

~~~

We will look up through the trees,  that whisper and bend 
To see sun assure us that love cannot end
It will shine new with promise, with a soft velvet light
That a day like today, will come once again
For today is a gift, that comes from the Gods
Filled with tomorrow, and a season of love                                           
While whipperwill music will dance through the air                                          
And the songs of the valley, will sway in the breeze
                            
In the hushed fading sunlight of the late afternoon           
Down by the meadows where the wild flowers grow                
We'll again laugh at the thunder, catching us by surprise
And be glad for the raindrops, that splash by our side
For today, has an ending, and now we must go

But let me imagine, that we’ll come here again
We will stand here together.  We will marvel and praise
You will be holding my hand, as you show me the way
And you'll capture my heart, as you've captured my days

And when the times we have treasured must come to an end
We will marvel with pleasure, in our memory's glen
We will come here together........and our spirits will blend

This will be our forever.......you'll be holding my hand

~~~

        


For Frank




Details | Rondeau | |

When Autumn Comes

When Autumn comes and visits me And Summers end I can foresee Remaining years are on the wane Cherished days won't come again My shackles soon set free Life like the deciduous tree Watches it's adornment flee And embraces falls refrain When Autumn comes When I respond to the decree And feel the chill wash over me When I no longer can remain My life no longer can sustain I'll with my soul to heaven flee When Autumn comes


Details | Free verse | |

Giving In To The Gray

Overwhelmed with fear I whispered into the rain
Disarming defenses, Giving in to the gray 
Tearing down all of my shelter within my hollowed decay
While this echoing silence gave every tear drop a name
They begin filling the voids with mundane hopes for a change
Heaven will save me from this hell and blue skies will reign
Lazily lay in green grass watching clouds drift away
It's all but a deflated dream now that the colors have changed
My thoughts have become restless noise of uncertainties rearranged
Damning all of my emotions, lies decorated with grace
Now I stand with a hardened heart in the sobering autumn rain 
I'm disarmed and defenseless, Giving in to the gray


Details | Free verse | |

The Photographer's Dream

A photographer dreamed 
Of a telephoto lens 
Capturing light waves  
From beginning to end.
Since time unleashed 
When the Big Bang leaped 
And particles began life’s history 
In swirling clouds he wondered how 
He might picture a piece of the mystery.
Through polished glass converging past
Planets, stars and seas
Of swirling waves that danced and swayed 
No less than windswept trees.
As he focused his dream glass
Where present meets past 
And depth of field is wide;
Where the image is clear and light streaks steer, 
Far away from the photographer’s eye.
With shutter speed set like a fast speed jet 
Blazing through the blue-white wispy above
Turning his wings on the bird that sings 
And a girl who once stole his love.  
Racing through time while continuing to climb
Higher through the prism of light
His finger feathers the button below
Capturing the moment in flight.  
Lingering there in pure mid-air 
Like a magic carpet in the wind; 
Until jolted by the sun on its morning run
While still dreaming of that telephoto lens. 
Maybe today, perhaps tomorrow,
He’ll capture the illusive the beast;
The athlete who strives for the best inside 
Or the homeless sleeping in the streets.         
He’ll stop small birds he’s seen and heard 
With their colorful feathers, breast and crown;  
And children playing in autumn leaves  
Scattered on the ground.   
Weddings and rings, flowers in spring,
Butterflies, wistful and bright;
Pollinating bees and hives in the trees
Or a harvest moon late at night.
Meadows and mountains, free flowing fountains
Ancient temples in faraway places; 
Fireworks up high on the 4th of July 
Olympics and fast car races.   
But now fully awakened he knows he’s mistaken
About the focal length in his dream glass;
Lens lust is a photographer’s must 
But this too, he knows, must pass. 
Like water flowing in the river
And wind passing through thin air;
The world he sees through his own eyes
Is a wonder beyond compare.


     



Details | Haiku | |

---an autumn morning

an autumn morning
while walking in the rain
soup cooking


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 | Rhyme | |

The Sacrifice of the Forest

haven't laughed much lately
the sound just doesn't hold the same meaning
not when the trees taunt me by dropping their leaves
making me think it's alright to sit quietly, bleeding

death comes so easily for them
and i sit watching each fall with such envy
my autumn has come and gone, and I'm still here
the leaves never have to stay long enough to feel this empty

i sit and imagine myself as one of them
tired and weak, falling, floating, letting go
not having to explain why i couldn't stand up to the wind
everyone understands that I'm just making room for others to grow

letting my life into the soil, finally serving a purpose
what a sense of accomplishment that would be
i can almost taste the anticipation i would feel while falling
knowing that more deserving ones will be able to live because of me

the human existence is far more complicated however
and i find myself staring at the forest in shame
knowing that their death is more noble and self sacrificing
than this self centered depression that i should just try and tame

I manage to peel my mind off the forest floor
amidst all the martyred leaves i wanted so desperately to become
i breathe in the life they have given up and decide
that i can't leave with so much yet to be done


Details | Free verse | |

Dreamers Dance

Her thoughts drift out the window
on the cool autumn breeze
and a smile creeps upon her withered face
as she remembers the first time she saw
this house
This house that is so old and worn
like her heart
and she sways to the music in her mind
as a tune tumbles from her memory
she dances and twirls across the floor
as the melody carries her dream
back to the days when he was still alive
and would sweep her into his arms
and kiss her wrinkled brow
she stops in mid-stride and a tear rolls
down her leathery cheek
and she smiles
a smile for the love they shared
when they were caught up in their
dreamers dance.


Details | Rondeau | |

As Rose Petals Wither


As rose petals wither in the autumn of life, Days hasten in orbits, some dull, some are bold. my muse rises to hoist a setting sun hung in gold, gleaming light abiding as daughter, mother, and wife. Glorious blessings entrusted outshine loss and strife. Circling paths of heaven and earth, charms conjured unfold as rose petals wither. I hum a lighthearted song from an innocent time and soar higher than summer to tranquilly reminisce. Then, receive autumn with thankful heart, tho' spring I do miss. Warm days dash by, distant Christmas bells chime as rose petals wither. By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, July 22, 2012 for Nette Onclaud's RONDINE THE TRAFFIC OF LIFE Contest


Details | Lyric | |

Ride The Wind

Written February 24, 2012


One too many times
Our love has been unkind
To the rigors and chills of the snow
The streets they meet
Intersecting the heat
But the cold will blow without heed

To rekindle the flame
Must sound quite insane
But it's all I have left in this world
Yet to feed from the hand
Of another's demands
Could lead to the start of the fall

Ride the wind
Wherever it goes
Don't ask it questions
You don't want to know
The wind will carry you home


Details | Free verse | |

Torture on the Parchment.

Oh, empty quill
On brittle parchment
Why with such zeal
Do you deride me?
Such power to prevent
A single word 
From being scratched out
Repudiating inspiration
For the moment
Forbidding me
To imbibe of breath

Tell me of that
With which I have sinned
That warrants this pain
This censure…
Necessitates from accusation
This allegation
Which I must answer
Before judgment
Surges forth
Washing over me

If I bloody those pages
Dirty your eyes
Holding my verse 
Contemptible
I shall answer you
Without vanity’s mask
To abstain from
Penning my verse 
Upon your note paper

My compositions
Will be now penned
In the blood of autumn frost
On the windblown foliage
Contented throughout
That no evil can be read
On wind scattered verses
Of me…


Details | Quatrain | |

Some Time in a Meadow



Stopping at a little meadow by the road
To rest and watch the busy swallows fly
Summer fading ,feeling the pull of autumn 
Hearing again the geese's mournful cry

Brown and gold the carpet before me
The leaves dropping in colorful disarray
I have the urge to gather them to my breast
And remember forever this unique display

Now the years are rushing with abandon
So many more behind me than ahead
The meadow will be here after I am gone
With this years beauty safely put to  bed


Details | Verse | |

Seedling Sky

Drifting languid, light 
upon the damp breeze,
the seeds of milk weed fairy fly
upon the aching air.
Snow white, weightless, dancers
skirts upturned before the coarser green
of velvet lawn they flee.
Backlit as virgin lovers 
upon the meadow’s spawn.
The castle walls dare not belay
the upward loft with daunting gray 
for on fragile wings in autumn damp
The world is full, a whorl in white.


Details | Free verse | |

Murmur of memories

The wind blows in and out
It seems time is going somewhere,
The beauty of a smile is not designed to be selfish,
The beauty of a blowing wind
Is meant to be part of a sunset by the evening sea.
The murmur of my memories,
Makes my time float,
And dance with the autumn dying leaves.


Details | Rhyme | |

Auburn Spring

The beautiful reverse of the garden of Eden's curse.
A Godly reminder in every soulful verse.
Another dieing season, so that we may live.
And be restored unto ourselves when we learn to forgive.

The bitter cold that we must bare when winter has it's way.
Slowly comes upon this world in every Autumn day.
And deep within it's vibrant death.
Mother Earth in all it's splender, takes away our breath.

From within these solemn walls.
We close the door as the temperature falls.
As we begin our journey inside these halls.
Awaiting our rebirth when Spring time calls.

White is black and black is white, the two seasons are singing.
Mirrored in eachothers negative, we hear the truth keep ringing.
To give us hope and help us cope so we never stop trying.
This sweet and bitter gift from God in his season of dieing.


Details | Romanticism | |

It Was Always You

It was always you
For love sings thy name
The cool wisp of blushing lips
The chorus of springtime's first kiss
Which my heart still proudly bares
Without refrain

I can still feel your smile
A warmth that spurns
Winter's deepest dire
Shivering fears erased
Imperfections embraced
By the fingertips of faith's fire

It was always you
Who stayed trembling skies
Summer tears lead astray
As jagged nights bled day
The hand of autumn assuaged
For you always held mine
Without refrain

You are the rock
That shields my soul
The mirror time cannot break
Nor I could ever mistake
For being alone

It was always you


Details | Narrative | |

The familiar cadence in autumn

Cold spells get to a slow start this year,
with this month's full moon -
known as the Beaver moon.
It makes me think though;
of my homeland where people walk
and enjoy the precipice of the night.

While in New York autumn holds
symbolic meanings and stories to tell;
with a giant wind that looms over a coastline;
it's another landscape that beckons across the farmland.

Withered leaves drop and fall on the ground,
trees in their creeping sadness
continue to lose the sojourn of their youth.
At their height and moving branches,
make me stay up and watch them through the present time.

As I gleefully walk right up to the shrine of Our Lady,
there's a missing whisper, a song to my ears;
those birds spilling down the garden's main avenue.
Like an army, an orchestra that provides
melody in the midst of sympathy.

As a magical moment of Mother Nature,
I see enormous changes in forms and shapes;
an attempt to thrive for another threshold,
keeps me believe the power beyond
filled with images of life.


Details | Rhyme | |

Autumn

The wound is barely visible to the naked eye,
Yet the pain still lingers in my mind.
As the autumn days dawdle by
In the heart there is no peace to find.

The autumn hues of memories fall
In shapes of abstract art.
I search for the most perfect one of all
The memory that stands apart.

I scrabble through the heaps of gold
As winds of pain, make them dance.
Years of stories now untold
In my heart they swirl and prance.

On the barren branches of my heart
Rowdy birds of thought gather together,
Deciding who should stay, who depart.
Memories of you will linger forever.


Details | Free verse | |

The babbling brook

clearest water flows gently
along and over my naked feet
the touch of its  almost tacit sound 
deafening beauty for a  calming mind
thousands of tiny goosebumps 
showing the numerous  surprising shivers  
trying  to make sense  

the softest sofa  of fresh leaves and little twigs
spread a narcotic palette of autumn perfumes
coloring the signals of my soul

a generous friendly fire of chestnuts and acorns
compose a  beat and feel  of rhythm of the forests
tapping on my shoulder and head
changing every breath that I take
while softly knocking
at future’s door


Details | Lyric | |

Ever South

Yellow leaves swoop by the window like
errant canaries, confused, bruised, caught
in a ghostly whirlwind they rise and fall
swirling, hurling, snapping like a flag unfurling,
trapped taut against the window
caught momentarily, autumn comes to
stir things up, to disrupt, the end of
summer so abrupt, ruffling the feathers
of the glossy blackbirds who darken the sky
in swarms and herds, crowding on power lines
they huddle together as birds of a feather,
cawing, seemingly cursing the weather,
so many on the line, a snapshot in time,
etched into my mind, sublime,
taking flight en masse to head ever south,
south, to warmer climes as I hear the deep
tones of my Gregorian chimes, thrumming
tones that rattle breastbones, I count the
autumns that have come and go and
I know, I know.


©Danielle White


Details | Rhyme | |

This Autumn Night

Candles are lit
lightly scenting the room.
Fireplace glow
dispels all the gloom.

Its raining outside
with a pounding beat.
The cat is curled up
content on her seat.

There is much to love
about an Autumn day
even when its too wet 
to go out and play.

I am relaxed
with a book and cat's purring.
Outside may be storming,
in here nothing's stirring.

The only thing missing
on this wet, windy night
is someone to share it,
that is my plight.



Details | Haiku | |

Leaves of Autumn

Leaves of Autumn
   by Amy Swanson


Leaves of autumn crunch
     softly break beneath my feet
          distant memory.


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 | Ballade | |

Shroud of Lace

To watch them pass on by
So pensive, grave, with winter in the lace
That shrouds each year that time cannot deny
A springtime switched to autumn graces
Has furrowed in their seasoned faces 
And covers gray of silken hair
While all the world strolls by in haste
With a sense of reverence in the air

She lifts her languid eye
A wrinkled brow portrayed
Where lines of time and experience lie
Where every movement displays
The falling leaves of yesterday
Before the tears of sweet despair
Were spread upon the April day
With a sense of reverence in the air

Composed they stroll, arm in arm, thigh to thigh
Some say their worth has spent its day
She holds her self in calm reply
His world once used him by swift pace
Wisdom disregards the youthful chase
They walk to buy some flowers fair
Their youth is put to rest today
With a sense of reverence in the air

No tear should trickle from your eyes
No need to mourn for yesteryear
For sagely knowing what never dies
With sense of reverence in the air




______________________________________________________________
Inspired by Catie's contest Ballade Boomba


Details | Quatrain | |

One More Day

As the days grow shorter I feel discontent,
I look at summer and wonder where it went.
I remember in the recent past when days were long,
Only to realize the summer is  now gone.

I still enjoy autumn with its chill in the air,
The skies are still blue and the weather quite fair.
Soon so many colors will be displayed in the trees,
I’m not quite ready for the impending winters freeze.

As I get older I see time does fly,
 I watch as the trees start to die.
 They explode in color in one last stance,
Seeming to invite me for one last dance.

Another summer’s gone the air start to chill,
I view all the beauty from on top of this hill.
I watch and listen but it all seems strange,
Summer becomes autumn Is this new change.

I remember this summer with days that don’t end,
All that I’ve met become those I befriend.
I’m not really sad but wish for more time,
But I can’t help but see the clock just unwind.

The world keeps spinning as this season shall come.
Still time is left for me to stand in the sun.
I’m thankful to greet just one more day,
I still hoped that summer wouldn’t be on its way.

As the chill grows I will wrap my coat around you. 
Together we shall cherish all we’ve been through.
I remember hope and how it helps me survive,
I want this one day and feel so alive.


Details | Narrative | |

Unfinished Business

UNFINISHED BUSINESS
©Alfreda Williamson
July 2, 2004




Outside town boundaries,
bustling, noisy din,
Deeply in the serenity of peace, calm,
the country County,
Around a curve, sharp, blind.

There it leaped out at me.
Suddenly, unexpectedly
Catching me off guard,
Not foresightedly, not scary
Just by way of wonderment
. . . why this unfinished business?
The house without its finishings.

. . .  It rose up in the trees,
reaching the tops, for two stories,
Sweat/precision/deliberation imputed,
Reaching towards the sun.

Or was it toward a full autumn moon,
Or could it be the direction,
from the ancient star compass.
Harnessing a cloud drifting by, for clearing?

It stood among the ivory,
Entangled, entwined but
Not overgrown, not overtaken.

The roof covered in tin,
The setting for magnificent, earthly,
	heavenly sounding of
drenching,/torrential/steady
rain drops.


The windowed eyes of this
Unfinished  dwelling,
Finished, painted, shadowed, framed
. . . in pink.
Its back bone wood no longer
yellow /white/beige with youth.
The grey/brown color of rotting age and elements;
. . . time, neglect, exposure
. . . nature scraping and shearing away,
year after year,
after month, after day,
after time.

The frame finished, nearly so,
Peaking spaces left, or now,
There, some frame filling
Having been ripped/rotted
Away for outsiders to look in.

This business unfinished,
And not overtaken,
In the gulf of time.

Nature working reclamation,
Of the space, crawling,
Groundward, upward,
Yet unfinished in recapturing.

This unfinished house, standing
Alone in the word,
Sharing a space with no one
In its place.
The windowed souls,
	. . . looking, peeking at
	passersby,
	driving,
	cycling,
	running pass,
	in a flurry.

This unfinished business,
Begs questioned consideration,
Sufficient structural invitation
	? who went there
	? what past passed
	? why this unfinished business
	? when
Where . . . 
	am I begged to inquire,
	invited to draw close?

But I can’t get there.
Though attention drawn,
And pondering invoked.

I can’t finish it,
This business.

By Alfreda Williamson
© July 2, 2004




Details | Haiku | |

In Silent Color

in silent color
late Autumn waits quietly
bids her leaves goodbye



© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
Wausau, Wisconsin USA
October 12, 2011


Details | Free verse | |

I Smell a Memory Coming On

The scents I remember like hand rolled cigars
Wine cask lined cellars in musty cool basements
Chocolate miniatures nestled in bright candy dishes
Tea leaves and mint steeping in dainty china cups.

Baked goods cooling on the kitchen counter
Roast with potatoes in a rich onion broth
Lilacs and roses lined on back yard fences
Channel #5 clings to grandmother’s sweater

Scents I remember from childhood spent
Fondly reminiscing with a wistful smile
In this sterile world I live in now
What will my grandchildren remember?

No leaves burnt on a cold autumn night
No carcinogens cooked over red hot coals
No second hand smoke that will cling to your clothes
No hairspray, no tea roses, no creams or colognes

No Sundays exploring my old Aunt Ruth’s farm
No chickens or guineas; no old dusty barns
No fresh moved hay or cinnamon apple pies
Just germicide, purified,  Ionic fresh air. 


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 | Rhyme | |

Summer's Slumber -Kissing The Moon

                                                            
                                                                    **~~**

 
  The balmy summer breeze 
Gently caresses the harvest saffron moon
  While it dreams memories of autumn’s golden red kiss
Trees are shedding their emerald green summer tresses
  Kindly kissing the Earth as their garments fall gently below
And flowers have shed their vivid colorful dresses
  As crimson amber leaves gently anoint the ground for show
 
While Summer sheds her beautiful clothes -
  Mother Nature lovingly seduces her to dream
She's kissed the shore with her elegant colorful attire
  She has painted the world with her exquisite apparel 
So now it's time for her yearly seasonal retire
  She paraded us with her resplendent painted scenes
Blessed the birds in their angelic symphony of songs
  So now -it’s time for her to drink the dreams of slumber
Taking the cup of restful sleep - is now where she belongs
 
She asks the moon to wait patiently...
  For her splendid colorful return
When she'll paint the world with her radiant painted tresses
  Where once more her regal colors will burn
She'll brush the Earth in regal glorious colors 
  Dressing up again in her brilliant, picturesque dresses
As the ruby red blaze of autumn begins to kiss the Earth 
  With her dazzling hues of gold and coral valor 

But before she goes...
  She gently reaches out with her one last caress...
Softly whispering as she sweetly kisses the moon
  ”It’s time now for fall - it’s time for me to undress”
She softly breathes her dulcet ending tune...
  "Goodnight", she gently whispers ...
"I’ll see you soon Mr. Moon
   Please...will you wait for my return? 

Quietly - she drifts into her splendid, peaceful dreams…
  Slumbering peacefully - 
Safely harbored in Mother Nature’s loving arms 
  As mellow zephyrs gently caress autumn's waiting whispers
While the moon drizzles its shimmering dusty charms
  Serenading nature with his soft silvery tune 
As this luminous gleaming Luna Mister 
  Cordially opens his welcoming hands 
To September's colors of orange and golden browns
Awaiting the arrival of dancing petals
As he gently embraces autumn's leaf draped lands 

Next he’ll greet the season’s sister 
  From the pristine silverblue Northern Isles...
Awaiting dancing ivory snowflakes he'll cheerfully greet winter 
  With his warm welcoming golden smile 

 


Details | Couplet | |

Things I Happen To Like

I like to watch skeins of geese flying in the autumn sky,
And I like the smell of frying bacon and luscious cherry pie!

I like to see the sun tinting Pikes Peak's crown in the early morn,
And the glorious Colorado sky as the sun ends its daily bourne!

I like to feel the tug of a rainbow trout on my fishing line,
And graceful garlands of snow adorning a ponderosa pine!

I like quiet evenings with my spouse nigh a warm and glowing fire,
Where we reminisce and dream of things for which we would aspire!

I like family reunions with my kids, grandkids, uncles and aunts,
And this may sound curious, but I like sharp creases in my pants!

I like to sit on the patio to muse and watch the squirrels at play,
And I like to go to church for inspiration, fellowship and to pray!

I like to listen to classical music or bury my nose in fascinating book,
And take leisurely evening strolls along a rushing mountain brook!

I like ice cream, tater chips, meatloaf, Brussels sprouts and chicken fried,
And I like the American flag that I shall always salute with pride!

I like it when the Denver Broncos and the Colorado Rockies win!
(But, alas, neither team is doing that well, much to my chagrin!)

I like to hear the rolling thunder and rain gently falling on my roof,
And the rhythmic clip-clop upon the pavement of a horse's hoof!

I like barbeques and fireworks in the park on Independence Day,
And the mulitude of stars winking at me from the Milky Way!

I like the smell of roses and the rejuvenation of April showers,
And I like work - I can sit and watch it for hours and hours!

I like the charm and beauty of a little child's beguiling grin.
I like Laurel and Hardy and Jack Benny with his squawking violin!

I like to socialize with folks with can-do attitudes and high ambitions!
(I like most everything I reckon, 'cept sloven schmucks and politicians!)

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


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 | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | Rhyme | |

Through the seasons of life

I was born on a snowy day
not cold at all
in my parents' embrace
as love surrounded me.

 
I walked in the spring
with a bit of chill
but warmed by the beauty burgeoning
as trees dress in green, the air fragranced filled.

 
I walked in the summer
with the sun in my eyes
Tear filled by the joy of nature
as I walked with you by my side.

 
I walked in the fall
with great wisdom
for all that I learned, the value that I know
what remains is the love I feel and own.

 
And the cold gave me the strength to endure
learning to stay warm inside
And the beauty of youth
gave me the dreams that I could fly
Through summer's heat and thunder storms
I learned that love is what makes it all worthwhile
And in the Autumn I felt no fear
For God had carried me all the while.

By CarolineCecile
Copyright 12/01/11
 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Story Of Life

The story of life is brief,
Like that of a shooting star.
Brilliance flames as autumn leaf
On tree before winter's char.
Then fading in the distance,
It burns itself to dust;
Extinquished from existence,
Its brevity unjust.


Details | Free verse | |

Back Strokes and Tired Eyes.

Sleep... is a pool.

In Spring, you open your eyes to new life and some already
accomplished swimmer helps you to test your toes, in brief intervals.

(nap, nap, and more naps...)

On the summer days of teenage youth, you can lounge all day,
swimming laps in dreams and diving to the bottom of your soul.

(up all night... sleep all day...)

When Autumn comes, you try to capture the same lung capacity
for holding your breath in your youth, to no avail.

(dark circles and rush hour traffic...)

And in the dark winter days, when you are ailing, you can't go in for any length of time,
just dip the fingers for a freeze which is hardly refreshing.

(and thus the cycle of nap, nap and more naps concludes...)


Details | Haiku | |

Jewels Dance About

jewels dance about
bright Autumn spirals downward
into deep dark heaps



© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
Wausau, Wisconsin USA
October 11, 2011


Details | I do not know? | |

Forward

Slowly moving stream
Carrying autumn leaves on
A journey, forward


Details | Free verse | |

Innocence Lost

Can innocence lost
Be ever returned
Or a heart, tainted and broken
Be cleansed, made whole once more?

Can a tree, longing for summer's warmth
Summon its leaves from cold autumn grounds
To return to naked branches
That it may feel joyful and alive again?

Can a child, disillusioned
Relive broken dream
Changing fate
To find naivety return?

Can joy be had in innocence lost
Or beauty be discovered, resting in sadness?
When birth of spring and warmth of summer pass by
Till all that remains is the still and quiet of winter
Will warmth be rekindled?


Details | Rhyme | |

long days of the past

i speak trouble yes
i speak trouble
late night rumble
very quiet mumble
summertime symptoms
slipped in subtle
suddenly i want to see
the warmth right before
the crunching of some autumn leaves
too hot at noon, makes the warmest evenings
writing on walls, illegal to draw
remind me of nights, all fear was small
bliss and inner peace
abundant as dinner treats
everyday i made away
with darker skin, and dirty feet
heart disease not bittersweet
park and freeze like little creeps
when passerby, might quantify
activities, helping secrets to keep
no such trouble yes
no such trouble
all the wonder, many lovers
i wrestled and played with shovels
pedestrian and landlord
i rummaged through the rubble
pasta without sauce, and gallons of tap water
vaporizing sacred flowers
that smell of exotic jungles
worries never entering
my vision like a tunnel
fleeting as a hummingbird
never ashamed to cuddle
never new a softer word
never cared for struggle
running free to paradise
cause my license priced had doubled
delighted to ride a bike
rain reason not to huddle
traveled all i sought to see
carpool or a shuttle
impermanence just a word
pouring down the funnel



Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Wood

An autumn wood
displays the wonder of nature
in it's peacefulness
and quiet glory.
I sit under a gentle yellow sun
watching the leaves
as they fall slowly to the ground.
So fragile is the health of spring
that in fall
the ritual of passing
is enacted with unfaltering dignity.
An autumn wood
is not unlike
myself


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

'HEALING'

The beauty I see in things 
makes me so sad....
For when I find something beautiful,
It may never be quite that way again.

A summer day
an autumn breeze
a color in a sunset....
your warm hand held in mine.

Why do i still hear your name....
in my head....
Faint,
tired....
so tired.....
almost dead.

My soul still whispers to God for you 
without me even thinking....
So thoughtless,
hopeless,
longing,
sadly dreaming. 

Unbearable.......
That sweet old dream of being in your arms 
my frame stood secure in yours
You were thin and warm and sturdy.....
soft coat of yours so cozy.................
Your face emanating ‘happy’....

Too soon, you began to fade away......
In tears I closed my eyes 
and held on tight.....
Oh, I couldn’t bear to watch you disappear again
But I felt it, all right.....

Your memory....
I’ll stuff in the dark of my mind 
in an ebony box
And keep it so tightly shut....
Tied with a long, dripping ribbon of blood

And thus my healing has begun.....
But I’ll still be on the run.........

No love deserves to live so long...
then die alone, so painfully.
Never again will this soul feel so trapped---
so helpless----
and so...........free......................


sorrylittlesharky.com


Details | Tanka | |

Leaves Travel About

leaves travel about
blowing upon Autumn winds
branches are revealed
October masks September
quietly as an Autumn



© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
Wausau, Wisconsin USA
October 12, 2011


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | Haiku | |

Haiku

 Quietly filling
 deep cups of the red blossoms.
 The morning sunrise.

 The rock bowl is full.
 Filled by the rain for the birds
 and for my quiet mind.

 Dried stalks of rhubarb
 turn brittle in the summer.
 Born again next year.

 The sparrows come back
 to say thank you for their home
 I lovingly made.

 My red dogs eyes gleam.
 Before eating, her eyes ask
 is it OK Dad?


 HAIKU; MEMORIES AND OBSERVATIONS and EXERCISES


 Archery
 The strong bowstring sings.
 My arrow will find its home
 I turn to sip tea.

 First Love
 How reluctantly
 the shy, young man moves forward
 toward the full, red lips.

 First

 In the maiden’s bed
 He found his heaven and hell.
 Such was his first love.


 Alone

 Small favor to ask.
 Please spread my ashes on the sea.
 No wife, no roommate.


 Who is Buddah

 She poured my green tea
 Until the cup ran over.
 Now, I know Buddah.



 Memory

 Cousin Roni was loud.
 Married a Samoan man.
 They both ate roast pig.



 Memory 

 My old friend, Bucky.
 Carried a gun in his boot.
 Afraid of himself.



 Old Friend

 Alvin slapped his first wife
 and then he married a man.
 I don’t know him now.


 Exercise I


 Diagonally
 he crosses the wide, busy street,
 to catch up with love.


 Exercise II

 Vociferously,
 she announces her mistrust.
 Not Republican.


 Exercise III

 She knew the problem.
 Incompatibility.
 He had to learn it.


 All his writing was
 autobiographical.
 He was egocentric.


 SEASONS

 The autumn raging
 I am blinded by red leaves.
 Too many to count.


 Surf crashes fiercely.
 Shadows lessen, skies turn gray.
 Winter storm moves near us.

 This Spring, my house burned.
 I now have a better view
 of the blue mountains.

 Fresh ink on blue lines
 the words come like hungry bees
 to form my Haiku.


 Synch

 Summer. I feel strong.
 Equal to birds in the tree,
 and pebbles near feet.


Details | Quatrain | |

I Stand Here

I stand here and watch the changing of seasons,
a summer of winters, an autumn of springs,
I stand here in thought, not knowing the reasons,
to the meaning of life, how the caged bird still sings.
 
I stand here and watch as the years pass me by,
regrets of my past, what my life might have been,
I stand here and muse over one butterfly,
freed from the prison it had put itself in.

I stand here and watch as the dark turns to day,
the first glimpse of sunrise, a shimmer of light,
I stand here and wonder where clouds go to play
would they take me with them when day turns to night?

I stand here on guard while my inner self dreams,
of a world free of hurting, a life blank of stain,
I stand here and listen while my inner self screams,
with fear in his eyes and a soul filled with pain.
 
I stand here alone, memories by my side,
a flood of emotions, bittersweet in my mind,
I stand here unknown with the tears I have cried,
searching for answers in a world where I'm blind.


Details | Narrative | |

Grizzly

Three truant scholars spending our sabbaticals
in crisp Colorado, we all re-read Walden,
dared to drink from streams so icy clear
the fish seemed suspended in mid-air.
Our flimsy nylon shelters shielded us
from what weather there was to worry on,
as summer slipped to autumn
and autumn waned winterward.

We walked well-wooded hillsides
of mixed conifers and broadleaf;
in deep drafts we breathed the earthy air,
interpreting the dent and trace of tracks.
Four full years past we trekked those trails
through stands of timber frequented by fox,
by birds, by deer -- and by growling grizzlies.

Now, when my son hugs his honey bear,
red-jacketed, black-button eyed,
I see the hellish maw, the blooded claw,
of the brownish-yellow raging beast
that tore off my arm and maimed two sages,
amid the yellow quaking aspen
where, yet, that gory grizzly ages.


Details | Free verse | |

about the ashes

Mnemosyne's colour wheel glitches through August,
on that candid orange the dogs howled into
during our autumn countdown.
When we still had a countdown.
When we still had August. 

I remember the moonlight traveling westward 
and seeing your face lined with silver.
I remember Artemis taking an emergency exit and landing,
landing in the closest pool of warmth. You, you, you.
And I remember dreaming. I remember testing 
what the world was like outside of you.

The singed leaves remind me how to breathe
on this street, the same way you used to.
I am learning about the ashes.
Sometimes we must burn the atlas
before charting ourselves from scratch.
Sometimes love must die, first.

In heaven's attic, even angels lose their meaning.
Returning only, when someone remembers:
the attic is still a part of home.
When touching means dust on your fingers.
When suddenly, you are intruding.


Details | Free verse | |

In The Autumn of My Years

Memories linger melancholy as I approach the bridge to the Gardens de Sol. A picture forms in my weary mind; Just a mere shadowed mirage, like an old faded photograph in a heart shaped locket kept near my soul centre for days, weeks and decades…. while fall winds crooning blue zephyrs frigid, incantations upon the once verdant meadows where the fawns grazed and wild horses pranced so breezy carefree on fine spring days.... I whirled and twirled , a carefree dance on patches of clover and dandelions in the spring of my youth Reveling joie de vivre of sun Sol warming skin and soul pink I remember our long, meandering walks in a picture perfect rose garden scented with redolent pines and aromatic wild flowers we conversed for hours, my hand in yours thrilling at your every word infatuated by a fervent touch You, idly picking petals off a rose; the deep timbre of your delicious laugh resounding joy to my acquiescent ears as I cavorted playfully in the garden’s fountain until lengthening shadows quilted the path with reluctant to leave, sun beams of a late summer afternoon And afterwards, in twilight violet sky; intimate moments by a blazing fire, silent music of our hearts thrumming a lovers sonata while you kissed me; gold specked brown orbs, so pleasurable and beguiling, warming my soul full of tomorrows promise and forgotten yesterdays Now, as I picture this quixotic drama rehearsed again and again one solitary tear slowly trails down and comes to rest on lines that were not there yesterday….. Dead cornflake leaves crunch under my feet as I walk the very same bridged pathway to the garden alone my only audience a solitary prickly cactus in the autumn of my years.......


Details | Rhyme | |

All That's Sure Is the Season

Approaching the winter of my years,
Never yet found my reason.
So much laughter, so many tears,
Yet all that’s sure is the season.

To few, all my days;
So many spent simply breezin’.
Should I regret their waste
When all that’s sure is the season?

What’s it been about anyway?
Perhaps there is no reason.
Did so want to learn the truth,
But all that’s sure is the season.

Always tried to consider others.
‘Tis much easier to be pleasin’. 
How many are my friends?
All that’s sure is the season

Felt the urge to make my mark.
Fame or fortune was my reason.
Fear of failure was my tether,
For all that’s sure is the season.

A man of Christian faith,
Hope God finds me pleasin’.
Fair chance tho’, I’ll go to Hell,
Yes, all that’s sure is the season.

So what of value will I leave?
Hearts and souls I may be teasin’
With too few words too few will read,
While all that’s sure is the season.

Approaching the winter of my years, 
Never yet found my reason;
But thank God for each extra day I search.
Still, all that’s sure is the season.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Mystery Of Life


Mystery Of Life


The Springs of my life have gone astray
Gold leaves of Autumn swiftly decay
The Bird of Youth has flown away
But then…he was never meant to stay
Winter’s chills have finally sprung
My seasons of life have all been flung
Yet all my songs have not been sung
In my heart and spirit…I’m still young!

LOVE is the answer to life’s mystery
Envy and greed lead to misery
Treat your neighbor, as you would like to be
And wonder of wonders…so will he!
And when the curtains of night are drawn
And death comes to call at early dawn
You’ll leave this earth a better place
You’ve made a difference in the human race.

Copyright2012 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)



Details | Free verse | |

Dimensions

Time is filled with so many dimensions
Rooms of this and that
Here and there
Now and then
What was and what is
Is now gone never to return
Like an autumn leaf turns to gold then turns to fodder for the worms
Time is so transient 
Like life here and now
At the Cross and beyond the cross 
Is
Eternity
A different dimension


© Brenda V Northeast 27th April 2012


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 | Sonnet | |

Seasoned

We boomers, as our generation’s called,
have lived through two seasons, considered great,
during which our values were overhauled --
The Summer of Love and Autumn of Hate.
Both brought us together and gave us hope.
In the face of injustice, both were staged --
the first, a celebration with free dope,
the other a tragedy that enraged.
We were innocent in ‘Sixty-Seven;
we saw world violence and were appalled.
Our attitudes changed by Nine-Eleven;
we sought revenge, though we were shocked and galled.
While Winter of War passes, may we find
The Spring of Renewal and peace of mind.


Details | Free verse | |

Visible Breath

Autumn comes I stand watching the leaves..thinking
The breath leaves my body unseen
But as the mercury drops and as I ponder my place.
I notice all I think all I feel.
Right there on the window before me.
To others it's just a mist caused by cooling or heating or both.
A chilhood whimsical game"oh boy look it's cold"
To me that mist is all, your name , your face, Our time.
I want to wipe it away this physical aberation of all unseen in my heart.
I see it all the pain the love the heartache everything in a small whitish cloud on a simple window.
My hand reaches pauses  oh so this is what you look like.
Oh if it was so easy to be done.
The mist fades rapidly with every lonely wasted breath. Making an apperance oh so briefly.
What ever course I take to wipe away or to gently touch the mist.
Would this breath on the window which taunts me so relay back to my damaged soul see its gone you'll be ok now or see how it welcomes your touch?
welcome to the world for all to see.
Hidden by the sun most of the time.
My fingers glide through the vanishing mist, I flash back to your cheek beneath my fingers.
Goodbye my love, goodbye my pain, goodbye to the only proof I have left of you.
But at peace I am.
I know now what I did not before.
Your not invisable your their in my breath.
Kissing the crisp Autumn air with me.
And all I have to do is breath.
And my visible breath will show me all I feel is real as real as the mist on the window


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 | I do not know? | |

She

She

She smiled, gently,
her warmth infusing me,
with a serene stillness of time.

She settled, slowly,
in my waking thoughts,
a soothing balm of simple joy.

She remains, scribbled,
on the walls of my fractured heart,
memories of happiness that once breathed...



Details | Lyric | |

Into the Flame

Summer passed with the smell of sweet perfume
And Autumn broke the soft the cocoon. 
To avoid the winter freeze, flying next to beautiful wings.
Why can't I have any of these things?
At least a Moth can pretend. 

Oh the cold it makes you shiver.
Abandon gold and all the silver.
All around and all in one place,
Connect the patches on my face.
Could it be rugged is my only friend. 

Fly, fly right into the flame.
Next season you'll be born again. 
So fly, fly right into the flame.
Don't you worry it's to early you'll be back again
And all the world you thought you left behind
Is already in front of your distant eyes. 

He said "You have heart kid remember that.
I never want to see you where I'm at.
This I hope you never know, believe because I told you so".
I wish that you could let it go; cry for me if you can.
Shedding a tear won't make you less a man. 

We drank as laughed of better days,
All while holding cups in fists if rage.
We know that life's this way, but oh why can't it change. 
In a lot of ways we took the blame, so far apart, yet the same.
So cry for me if you can.

Fly, fly right into the flame.
Next season you'll be born again. 
So fly, fly right into the flame.
Don't you worry it's to early you'll be back again
And all the world you thought you left behind
Is already in front of your distant eyes.

Summer passed with the smell of sweet perfume.
The northern winds came all to soon.
I don't recall what was the case, but their wings they couldn't lend.
At least a Moth can still pretend.


Details | Sijo | |

Natural Language

Fallen Autumn leaves know the babbling water's dialect,
the language of the mute stream, Socratic running of its mouth.
Pretzeled on a stump, I dream what horrors and wonders I've missed.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Tears That I Am Crying

I am crying tears of loneliness, frustration and contempt
for a life that I know has not been too well spent;
for time here on earth that was wasted and for naught;
for battles that I waged in that never should be fought.

I am crying tears of emptiness, pain and heartfelt sorrow
for the guilt of yesterdays and the hopeless of tomorrows;
for taking away much more than I ever gave away;
for putting off forever those things I could do today.

I am crying tears of destitute, isolation and chagrin
for the ending of a good life that never did begin;
for taking for granted the advantages of my youth;
for letting my ego distort the moral truth.

I should have cried for my fellow man and the injustices I saw,
Instead of seeking my fortune and turning a blind eye to it all;
I should have long ago found causes for which to shed these tears,
Instead of saving them for self-disgust in my autumn years.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Chair

A lot's been said about poetry
And what it has to give
Your words can even bring to life
An object that dosen't live

Take a chair, for example
What can really be said
It carries us when we're tired?
A recliner becomes our bed?

A chair is so much more than that
It's where we rock our kids
It sends them to their world of dreams
As they close their heavy lids

It meets us on the porch each night
As we wait for the evening's breeze
It's where we cherish the autumn months
As we watch the changing leaves

It's something we can count on
An old and familar friend
It's where we count our blessings
As our day comes to an end

It's where Grandma told us stories
And where her Bible was read
She'd read aloud so all could hear
Before we went to bed

Poetry is what we feel inside
And the words we decide to use
It can even bring a chair to life
Just by the words we choose


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 | Free verse | |

In A State of Amnesia Falling Into Fantasia

Your love, like amnesia it made me forget all the dark forces against me they tortured me relentless then you put me into amnesia from the problems, hope came in the foresight of your prowess and the light emanating from your face what seems calm on the surface is often roaring within screaming, hair crazy like I'm the demon's descendant only strong feelings can push out the weak and those skeletons surface, hurt us and repeat so no ones around and I learn to hate me and no Love to be found because it gave me a profound amnesia. waking prematurely every other time I sleep seeking sanctuary why cant I be at peace? fill up a void come into my world exposed to be touched pay no mind I'm at home when the pain seems too much shut it off like a light now i'm all into peace a presence around me a love like amnesia I'm falling into fantasia calm as can be worries drift away forget how hurt I am for one meaningful day no I'm not the devil but I know who he is he once came to visit and make my soul his as a dark ball inside me consumes me at times i keep inching forward toward the many facets of mind knowing not showing much at all down in the sunrise revived by the fall a natural course of a star entering destruction like lotus flowers in bloom under a fog covered moon in the cold autumn wind healing old scars within practice the old magik into a new growing skill will it be enough the day which stands still worth fighting for.


Details | Quatrain | |

Autumn wind

Sacred sounds of the autumn wind
Blessed microphones could not endow
A feeling that our lives entwined
This silly technology knows not how.


Details | I do not know? | |

Autumn's Chilling Blaze

Autumn's Chilling Blaze

The trees blaze as if on fire

the Autumn breeze plays the leaves

A song of times passing lightly falls

on ears & eyes & mind & soul.

Lazy days of Summer's past

the chilling fire of Autumn's blast

The air turned crisp & cool flows

over the land, spreading color to gently swaying branches.


A small boy shuffles through the color

the sound of laughter echoes down the lane


Times like these ease the pain &

the loneliness makes room for awe.

A landscape transformed as if touched

by a painter with a thousand brushes.


At night the moon shines


Bright, Big and Real


The wind rolls clouds

over his face


A chill is felt by body and soul

A season's past…

A small boy laughs…


A man cries…


A dream is done.

……….
rlm '85


Details | Free verse | |

Storm in my Head

Storm in my Head

Looking out the window is a waste of time,
for I can feel the wind blowing right against my mind.
But why can’t you feel the wind on your cheek?
Because my mind is lost, and my will is weak.
It’s a beautiful day and the autumn leaves fall, 
but it doesn’t really matter, because it’s storming in my skull.
And why is it that you’re afraid of the weather?
Because inside my head, it’s never getting better.
But what if the rain decides to never stop pouring?
Then the rest of my life will be unhappy and boring.
What if the wind decides to never stop blowing?
Then my mind will continue to keep itself from growing.
But the storm won’t stop, and now it’s raging!
And I’m fading, and the ground is dry, and I can’t understand why.
My God, what’s happening to me?
I can’t hear my thoughts, and I can’t feel myself,
but I can still taste the blood in my mouth, 
and that reminds me, I’m still just human.



Thanks for reading. The weather represents my state of mind at the time I wrote this, and the bad weather relates to depression if you haven't figured it out. Thanks again for reading.


Details | Free verse | |

MOMENT

In a brief moment, I held the time so tight in my hand,
My children hood, the blues, solitude, and morning lights. 
Remembered in time, when didn't existed in remembrance.
Rest in a field, looked above the sky as a white canvas,
Become to draw with my eyes, the destiny in a deep sky.
Full colors of spring, soon will turn so pale in autumn 
Petals of roses falling on the ground, living the perfume,
Retained into a glass bottle, hand who was kept the time.


Breathe in and keep in a fresh air inside of an old lung.
From the memories, pick up the blackberries on the road.
Brightness morning sun; is a gift to the eyes for moments. 
Lives; supported by columns, crossing bridge of the time.  
Why do expect love, from the distant harbors? No more!
Just a warm breeze is feeding ours thoughts from the east.
Golden lights, & glows moments, were in time full of life

Should I be a nave of the time, to follow the sun?
Sweet evening memories, never will say goodbye.
Soul was wearing in moments, save those eyes so bright.
Invisible was the time, and doesn't feel the sun set goes on.
Precise flights route over high clouds crossing tropics,
Where dream has no border, is following the hills of east.


Details | Free verse | |

DAUGHTERS

DAUGHTERS


Opposites presented …
One in talons of  Eagle
One on wings of  Dove
Equally beautiful, equally loved

A torrent from a fierce black cloud
The yang of the yin
Frothing fierce powerful waves in a storm
Beating chests of seaweed rocks
Claiming it in its bosom
Then furling it afar
Into unknown oceans where 
Neptune roars his roar on end
Boasting strength, logic illogic

Then light as a feather
Giggling waves on shimmering beaches
Rosy sausages examining crabs and bubbles
Laughing at blue-bottles and busy antics of ants
In crevices of creaky floorboards
While the autumn sun sets
Diamond dew-drops on clover leaves
Exclaiming at rushing workers and hairy worms
So the morning says Hello

A juicy apricot indigo tinged
Kissing at library entrances
Crumbly beneath its hard exterior
Where beetles have dug a hundred paths
Staring defiantly at an orange star
Scorning its scorching, gracefully factual
Proclaiming the largeness of Life so she thinks


Earth child reaching for unreachable Mercury 
Spirit child, water bound, earth located
From an awakening Eye
One imaged from the bowels of struggle 
When behind jail bars I sat counting toes
One imaged from the speckled gown of J-briel
As Saturn said goodbye


Sirius screamed from hell and wreaking pain
Wrought from rages and conscious sages unknown
Born in blood without its blue
Rolling eyes from a womb of turmoil and terror
Dripping the darkness of strife with hidden crystals
Contemplating hypocrisy, deceipt, treachery
Torn apart by churning guts 
While the medics oogled around
Then searching, searching, searching


Moon and Sun crossed one another
Not knowing which way but loose
Streams of rivers flowing downwards, then upwards
Sideways then byways in villages and towns of paintings
A gecko appeared on the pillowcase
Gangster peeped through a window
Then books came pouring down, pouring down 
And numbers flew away
Lashes long, black as a crow


There can be no coin to ponder
No coin to teach from if not faces two
No tornado ripping apart if no breeze 
Playing on a horse farm
No death if no life
The night clings to day
As daybreak clings to escaping night
Embracing and negating
Embalmed while flying together on a
Silver thread 
In the Sky.


Details | Blank verse | |

An Open Mind

Cracked open like a jar of peanut-butter,

             the mind is emptied

With a certain medicative methodism

That would be habitual,

             were it done more frequently.

A few things escape,

Like the shopping list left behind on the coffee table

Or the milk that was to be purchased.

So many other things, which were only just things really,

Seem to linger like the plague.

Old telephone numbers cling to the crevices,

Rotting away with the names of former lovers

And something that once resembled guilt.

A constant ticker tape of obligations and responsibility

Clicks as it spits out the duties of the hour,

Constantly moving along to its unheard song

Between two unlistening ears.

In between are flashes of color,

Of autumn leaves and unseasonably bare legs

That grow goosebumps in short shorts

                 and a cold breeze.

Observations couple with imagination

To form shapes and sounds

And olfactory stimulation

That was never anything more

            than perfume in the wind.

To finalize the transaction,

The doorway to the mind

         collapses upon itself,

Smothering hot embers into nothing more

         than dank smoke and steam.

As the last gasp of airflow is fused shut

By the rush of busy-ness and day to day

A single breath leaks out, that had once simmered

On the lips of a beautiful woman.

"Un besito," she had whispered passionate once,

Two words that meant more than the world.


Details | Rhyme | |

Summers over Sweet Princess

Summers over –
Sweet Princess

You were the Helios, warm and bright
throughout my summer days and night.
You gave life, energy, yourself and light
to our adventure, our journey and flight 
across this beautiful, vast land of ours, 
along with all those wonder filled hours –
I perceived – reflected in your Autumn green eyes –
Angelic, warm ?, on fire ?, passionate ?, - what lies ?,
as hope, desire, dreams, broken wings, try and fly.
I have often wondered what I am ?, what I mean ?, why ?,
you bother – considering – with me, and I
also wonder why I remain enclosed here,
in fear of ?, and why I still want to be near ?
I wonder my Dear, ?, what would be ?, if I’d disappear.

My heart aches, my soul weeps,
my spirit cries out loud – it seeks 
answers for all those moments – joyous – lost,
that may have been nothing more then the cost
for something that may have been nothing more 
then figments of my imagination –
a dream that I am unable to unlock the door
to, for your dreams, your creation
have no room – indigent, disabled, old man,
uneducated – in the light of your master plan.

These lost moments come crashing in on my dreams,
even crashing in on my waking hours, it seems.
I see them now, on television screens,
and in that place, deep within, where these scenes
play out the beauty of passion, a hot embrace, a delicious kiss,
a loving look in the One’s, eyes – these I truly miss,
and see in every action, every reaction  - between this world and the other, that remind me
of everything- with you – I want to be, 
to experience, to develop beyond this place.

I see you in every beautiful face.
in every compassionate, passionate embrace
then I get lost, lost in these momentary
experiences of others – actors – as they carry
my spirit, my desire to what could be.
what might have been, if only all were free.
I then ache for all that will never
become, for you will never, ever.

I see you face on every act of love,
every act of passion, every longing look,
every gift given to another – gifts I would love
to bestow upon your soul – gifts you want,
and from me – I believe – want not
what I have to give.
We both have to live
the lives we choose
and have no choice
but to live.

B. J. “A” 2
February 24th 2008


Details | Tanka | |

Sky Reflects Autumn

sky reflects Autumn
leaves dancing amongst bright clouds
golden autumn sun 
mirrors glorious color
gray skies on near horizon


© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
Wausau, Wisconsin USA
October 11, 2011


Details | I do not know? | |

The Swaying of the Grass

1.

 

A path leads,

to where wild grass grows,

 

sashaying in the summer breeze.

 

2.

 

Along the path,
lightness settles within,

 

feeling the grass,
swooning,
tickling ankles,

 

swaying to the lilting bird-song,

in a dance of intimate abandon,

 

brushing the remnants of pain away.

 

3.

 

Melodies float across fields of green,

delicately caressing my heart,

 

teasing emptiness to flee,

comforting the mind,

 

to silently be.

 

4.

 

Walking on,
savouring the peace,

 

a momentary respite,
from the burdens of the now,

 

all is quiet,

 

a stillness cradling fractured emotions,

 

the grass in the fields sway,

 

dusk descends,

 

shadows lengthen,

 

nudging dimming light to take leave,

 

of the day


Details | I do not know? | |

Midnight Rainbow

A friend told me that we all see the same pale moon at night,
and that thought struck me as comforting and rang so simply true.
But late one autumn night I cursed the luminescent orb,
because it guaranteed what I already knew:

for me there'd be no peaceful slumber on this weary night,
with this all-consuming headache come to stay.
Would it, I asked, keep hammering industriously on
as wakeful dawn turned into harried day?

I fixed my eyes upon the moon with burning beams so bright
as concentration fled my painful mind.
Squinting, I could see not all those rays were shining white,
but glowing colors of all different kinds.

It was dumb to be awake at such an unattended hour,
but for me sleep rarely came without a fight.
Perhaps, I mused, I'm lucky, for how else could I have seen
the fascinating rainbow in the middle of the night?


Details | Free verse | |

the affair

spring and summer fly quickly by 
now a trendy autumn colour brings change 
to the night air that can no longer bear 
the warmth between our hands 
and the smile clings with the strength 
of a dying leaf 
against the pull of a heavy heart 
that knows the wind will blow 
in ways we ignored when first we explored 
not so long ago 


Details | I do not know? | |

Dreams Begin to Dim

Dreams begin to dim, fading
Light begins to show, invading
 Swirling into wakeful focus
Lavender, white, autumn crocus

Dusty lilac daybreak dawning
On this misty autumn morning
Merging into dreamlike wonder
Rousing to the sound of thunder

Clinging onto fading dreams
Dancing, golden sunshine beams
Lazily you start to swim
As mystic dreams begin to dim


Details | Rhyme | |

When Poets Die

When poets die, their words live on
You see them everywhere
They're written in the moon and stars
Or maybe, a humble prayer

They're written in the morning sun
As the sunshine brings us light
You can find them in the sunsets
That ushers in the night

They're written in the summer breeze
That tempts the leaves to dance
They're written in the beautiful flowers
That brings the spring romance

They're written in the winter snows
As snowflakes start to fall
They're written in the autumn leaves
In trees, both big and small

When poets die, their words live on
They never pass away
Anywhere your heart can look
Our words are here to stay


Details | Haiku | |

Willow

Willow whips wildly
Upon angry autumn breeze
It bends and not breaks


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 | Free verse | |

Autumn Raid

The evening bulb shone dimly, in the almond ale sky.
Wispy winds scatter seasonal paper nuts, about my tiny feet. I am a simple rodent, who enjoys the many shades of life. Littering the curved chestnut nails, I scurry with my kin towards our evening meal, Inside the human burrow, a most familiar shade. My siblings nip at my newborn heel. "Gather what you can," I tell them, "quietly and without strife." Heed my orders, cloaked clan true, and before I knew, we had returned to the shaven wheat. Twirling sighs graze my cobalt coat. Are we living a lie? Relieved that the task is done: another foray, we have won; Another night, to feed my young; Together, here, with everyone. Yonder days, O hominal aid! Alas we borrow, but none repaid! In time, perhaps, we'll cleanse our debt. (In their ears, I whispered as they slept.) - Never forsake, the Autumn Raid.
The evening bulb shone brightly, in the plump plum sky.


Details | Rhyme | |

From a dying Ember To a live Flame

From a dying Ember
To a live Flame

Fame – ous, Autumn Green Eyes, Beauty her name –
came into the light – a clearing – that shone so bright,  
same as shining stars in the dead of night.
Fight for ardor, once more – cut down by a knife –
sight awash into blindness – no room in her life.
Strife, the journey this ember to flame takes –
Fife plays the marching song – the road that makes
flakes out of the heart – odyssey on broken wings.
Stakes to high, to sharp – killing - the voice that sings,
brings a melancholy, endings to – an ancient man
strings life, desires, loving, memories as best he can.
Fan those embers, light that flame, love this man !

An ember into a blazing inferno.
You, the igniter ?, I have come to know.
From a spark or recognition – ignition
into a world of burning desire for life – contradiction
for all – in this world – I have done wrong, 
all who have departed – leaving a very sad song,
singing to the winds of passing time
as I reach deep within – try to rhyme
away all that clings – wants to stay
outside of memories hoard – live
to become cathartic elixirs
healing the soul,
freeing spirits, 
seeing them fly.

I, with my inner eye – might just see - the real me
for others to know – maybe to enjoy the show
as my days wane – lessen – the pain
to become clear- see it afar, no longer near.
Some days are gray – a way we have to pay
for life in this world – on this plane –
that flight from - to come back again -
the right sum – death with rain,
tears we shed at the throes of change.
B. J. “A” 2
March 16th 2008


Details | Free verse | |

Almost Free

I grew up in a garden paradise
large white house in the country
sheltered by ancient oaks and naievity
passed idyllic days in childhood bliss
never ran it much through my mind before

until the day
I walked two hours with my life packed up on my back
set out on a sunny autumn morning
running on a four days empty belly, and some strong black coffee
met a tall, thin man along the way
asked me if I could play the bass slung over my back
I replied yes and he gave me his number

Three quarters of the way there the baby's stroller 
gave one last groan of protest
and buckled under the weight of the bags hung on the handle
spilling everything onto the street

"These things can be kind of tricky,"
said the young man who helped me scoop everything up,
explaining how it used to happen 
when he pushed around his younger siblings.
"See you around sometime,"
he offered up

Later we arrived,checked in at the front desk
no one else knew we were at the shelter
days here are passed aimlessly
in sedated daydreaming
nights are spent shivering with cold
and exhaustion

I can no longer count 
the number of times I've been broken before
(I try not to think about it)
and pieced back together, but never quite the same,
I could tell you how the closet floor smells like mildew
when soaked through repeatedly with tears,
or describe the way his black eyes bulge in anger,
describe how every little fleck and bubble gathers at the corners
when his mouth froths white with hate,
and the vilest obscenities, and how after a while
you start to ask yourself if they're true

Armed with all the pamphlets from the front office
I was gonna do all the right things
they say it takes about five tries before you're successful
but what do you tell to the child who says, "Daddy bad, daddy gone?"
I almost made it this time, and then
He dropped by, told me to pack up my stuff,
we took the bus home
past the place where the young man helped me gather up my life off the road
past the spot where the tall, thin man gave me hope
and his number
- The baby was excited about his first ride 

I'm back in the same old spot again, 
little has changed but time
and knowing that once, just once,
I almost made it

...now I watch the birds out my kitchen window
close my eyes and ...
I'm almost free


Details | Free verse | |

Thoughts

Sun dappled leaves
grow verdant colours
as autumn carries on towards the first snowfall of winter

loving this season
the child in me
kicks the leaves that lay dormant at my feet
loving the cruch and textures
that lay
like a comfortable blanket
I wrap myself in -

outside my window
the children trick or treat
dressed in ghoulish attire that pleases the givers of candy and treats
while fireworks
explode into bright falling colours
lighting up the evening sky in celebration of those gone before

this season is a time of introspection for me
as I gather courage to face another year
whist recognizing beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
and my life,
as the seasons come and go,
becomes ever more interwoven with the complexities
that time delivers.


Details | Rhyme | |

Fetter

I say: "Good morning everyone",
Turn on the light. The morning sun
Will never choose to greet this place
Of greed-trapped minds and sheer disgrace.
Some beer into inner space
To sink reality for instance
Is just the way of my resistance
Within this suffocating maze.

The fussy crowds in hurrying trams,
The same old streets, the traffic jams
Are too disgusting for my eyes -
They seek lush colors of surprise.
My heart's a rose yet to bloom,
And all it needs is Heaven's cater,
But I will never break the fetter
Of northern winds and autumn gloom.


Details | Rhyme | |

THE MEANING OF RAIN

As it beat on my window pane 
I hear the sound of the autumn rain
It is a indication of my pain 
It falls from my sadden eyes
It also falls from the black skies
I hope it will rain tomorrow
It fills my day with an empty sorrow 
When you see rain what do you think of 
Do you dream your friend or a lost love
Nothing ever feels the same
Especially when you see and hear the rain
Have you noticed rain never quenches thirst
After the rain the sun appears first
When the sun’s rays pierce the sky 
Birds in all their glory will fly


"Rain is nature's chicken noddle soup."


Details | Free verse | |

Static Light

Static Light

Lightning - Moneca, her name – electrified my spirit,
shocked my soul into a glowing light of desire,
a desire to live beyond the states of neutrality, 
of stagnation that existed – all that was left for a once
moving, vital,  vibrant being that was, once, 
and now is again hanging onto the very edges
of what is left - of youthful adventures,
of those experiences and journeys.

How does one’s spirit, one’s soul hang onto 
the very edges of hazy dreams, of misty desires.
That elusive light of golden hues and Autumn greens ?
How does the knight, in realization of, lay down his sword
and give up the quest for love’s light- ning ?

B. J. “A” 2
May 5th 2008


Details | Free verse | |

Blue Poetry: Improvision no 1 by Ronald S Porter

blue poetry curls and rises like smoke from a cigarette ' til the air is hazy with fog-like emotion and.. the ambiance shifts perspective on...right and wrong on pleasure and pain loss and gain... nebulous concepts once clear in the mind, appear as seen through gauze. while i pause and reflect on what's been wrecked and what has survived cause Blues is just a feeling feelings change colors like autumn leaves on a tree. deep in Indigo emotion i sit and write Blue poetry and, wait for my change to come.


Details | Ballad | |

CHRISTMAS CAME ON A FROSTY DAY

Soft dawn light... 
Broke in the east 
Pink and red, 
in late December 
Christmas came on a frosty day... 
What I can remember..... 

This time, so long ago 
So many years passed by 
Yet, I remember 
The cold winter in that December 
The geese long since gone south 
Honking cry, 
in an Autumn sky 

I was a merest wisp of a boy 
All I ever wanted.... 
was that toy.... 
I was seven... 
You know... 
On that frosty Christmas day 
Back then.... 

Cold winters, come and go 
I am old ,you know... 
Yet, I remember that Christmas 
On a frosty day, 
back then.... 
In deep snow... 
I was seven.... 

Most of the family have passed on, 
gone to heaven 
I remember how the candles shone, 
long ago 
I am old , you know.... 
I was seven.. 
Then... 

We were poor, you know 
back then... 
Long ago 
I was seven... 
A mere wisp of a boy 

I am old now, 
but I still remember 
My favourite Christmas... 
My favourite toy.... 
I was seven 

Christmas came on a frosty day.... 
Like so many since then 
I still have that toy... 
By my bed 
I am eighty seven, 
you know... 
and still a boy..... 


Details | Free verse | |

Mind Flight

The forest path pretends a voice
of purpose through distraction,
birds sound their curious intent, and then
the voices all around will cease to be,
time slows down,  the lake
too far away to break the spell.

There when the leaves were down,
I bought the measure of an ending
that would crush a saint, a wild cry
inside me, resonating in a memory
engraved in pain that only I could know.

Late autumn is the time for gathering
not only of the harvest, but the fruits
of loss, the tearing, grinding
resignation of the sundered heart,
ever too obtuse to understand

Then it is one may perceive
the place within, the soft retreat
that speaks a stranger tongue—
a flight from mindlessness 
to that familiar silent hovering. 
A restless peace it is, but on another plain, 
with still another kind of joy 
that glows behind the sunset clouds.

There is a promise still to come
that one may count upon—
to be sure, as yet unknown.
The flight is past.
The mind is home.
                 ~


Details | I do not know? | |

Autumn In Life

Traveling sullenly 
Through the worst season
Of my life
I watch hope fall
Like autumn leaves
I stand against the rising chill
And beckon my soul to come
And lift itself out of hibernation
And back to a place and time
When everything had
Possibilities
And it was so bright that the entire world
Seemed familiar and not so 
Strange and forbidding


Details | Sonnet | |

The Tritest Song


“Renewal…Easter,,,April love…rebirth”
Are easy, archetypal terms for when
Fresh shoots begin to green the thawing Earth
And fill with sweet clichés this poet’s pen.
At least I know what Spring is not—
The “cruelest” month’s not April, no,
In spite of Mister T. S. Elliot
Whose Spring and soul were both of snow.
But he was young.  Age brings surcease,
And Spring, forsythia and daffodils,
As flowered sonnets sprout, increase,
And decorate the rain-swelled rills.
Thus, in the landscape of my autumn brain
The hues of yellow and of green remain.
03-23-83 


Details | I do not know? | |

triangle rooftops

I used to live for everything; for the naked trees in the autumn, for the smell of hope in the 
spring. Every time that smell came I would breathe deeper. 
I would look out of my window at night and see the city lights gleaming up at me, they 
screamed, 
‘you can have this, you can have all of this’. 

My youth was enveloped in faith and ambition. Faith dictated my every move. Faith in the 
table that would hold my drink. Faith in the bath that would get me clean. Faith in my heart 
that would guide me. Faith in myself to get to the lights. 
Myself? 
Myself is conquered in question marks and lists.

Now loneliness dictates my every move. It shoves me into dark places and binds me to 
things that my mind cannot commit. 
I am swarmed by darkness and acres and acres of hope that cannot be tended to or sown. 
Every ounce of me has abandoned myself and I cannot retrieve it.

I reminisce over pages and pages of me and there is no middle ground. 
I was young and I was free. 
I was nineteen and I was lost.
I am nineteen and completely tattered. 

I look back on these pages and I see images of flowers with three petals and houses with 
four windows and triangle rooftops.
I see people with bright pink skin and everything in 2-D. 

Then I look back on these pages and see hearts with your name scrawled across them. I see 
paragraphs and books dedicated to you.
I see everything that you ever said to me. 
I see all of my faith scribbled in you.

Now when I look out of my window,
the lights glare at me, they scream, ‘YOU LOST HIM, YOU LOST YOU!’ 
And when the spring comes and I breathe deeper, every cell in my body becomes decimated 
by your scent, every organ rots remembering you. 
In the autumn when the trees are free and naked and cold, 
my bones shake without you to cover them.


Details | Rhyme | |

Voices In My Head

You've always been there for me
Never turning your back
Except that one particular time
Where now trust is what we lack

I have forgiven you for your infidelity 
But I’m sorry that I can never forget
The day my heart stopped dead in its tracks
Painful tears soaking my pillow wet

Yet you’ve hurt me worse than anything
I still love you passionately to this day
For you know me better than I know myself
I just wish my broken heart could heal the betray

So many tears and pain you have caused me
Still it doesn't halt my adoration for you my dear
I just needed some time alone to think clearly
But your voice inside my head is all I hear

© Autumn Mae Franklin


Details | Haiku | |

SWEET AUTUMN SEASON

                                               The season of change
                                               Rose lily and all others
                                                  renew own colors

                                               Nature's new sunlight
                                        welcomes sweet Autumn season
                                                good bye to summer

                                                   Body feels colder
                                        Taste new fruit juice and custard 
                                              Mind carries new dreams 





For contest: Sponsored by Gail Doyle


Details | Rhyme | |

The Color Beautiful

I saw you just the other day.
You stood there all alone.
I watched as the Suns shadow beat down upon you.
Your eyes and mine were both hesitant at the glimpse of shade.
You stood so firm and adamant, 
Your posture was mine to admire and to please!
The color beautiful was everything that I had ever imagined it could be!
I could see the winds tousling through your flawless shiny hair,
A cool breeze tenderly caressing an unexpected stern face! 
You stood so tall. You were bigger than anything I had ever seen.
I watched you shiver as the cold draft reached from underneath bringing its sharpest autumn air.
You stood there completely impervious to time, person and to place.
The color beautiful captured hidden chills inside of me as I embraced that very same breeze.
I could feel the warmth of your breath upon me,
You stood there with a true look of total awareness.
I could no longer feel my heart quicken to beat, 
For I had lost every one of my God given perceptual senses.
I could feel your warmth covering over me baring my only gift to see.
You stood as a man with much honor and pride.
Such an obvious completeness!
The color beautiful instantly became everything in this world to me.
Because in your eyes you left no doubt that I am still your princess!


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 | Rhyme | |

In the final Analysis


In the final Analysis

Destiny – she seems to, always be shutting the gate.
She has been, closing in, her garden on my fate.
She has been given the opportunity to know my dreams, 
but nothing of my desires, does she want, it seems.
I would love to know the sun setting in her Autumn green eyes,
To lie the night long / the morning into the sun rise 
from her beautiful face, feel the warmth – hidden – it could bring
to this aching heart, this alone soul, my world, to make birds sing.
The pain, the heart ache, much to great- for my desire, 
to live on with the direction it has been heading – ashes from fire
are what I feel, dust - I can not, will not pay for what is not for me.
The price to high for a foundation weak – to high the fee
for what does not already exist – really – as I see
it – in what does not come from the heart.
Expectations of trivial matters ! – pursuits of ?, - no place to start !

B. J. “A” 2
January 23rd 2007


Details | Rhyme | |

Rains Fall

Rains fall down on me
Torrential thoughts flood my mind
Forever and all time
Rains fall.

Words flow out from me
Exalted rivers from my mind
Forever and all time
Words flow.

Sun shines upon me
Warming my body and mind
Forever and all time
Sun shines.

Moon rises behind me
Casting shadows on the doubts in my mind
Forever and all time
Moon rises.

Love comes slowly to me
Passion joins my heart and mind
Forever and all time
Love comes.

Children laugh and play
Spring brings a rebirth of my mind
Forever and all time
Children laugh and play.

Winds blow all around me
Bringing Summer changes into my life
Forever and all time
Winds blow.

Leaves change with my moods
Colors of Autumn fill my mind
Forever and all time
Leaves change.

Snow flies about me
Beautiful winter fills my mind
Forever and all time
Snow flies.

Death arrives to take me
Takes my body and mind
Forever and all time
Death arrives.



(January 26, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved


Details | Blank verse | |

Acceptance

I reach the autumn of existence
Acknowledging an absence 
Of rehearsal for life,
Accepting that which is unseen;
I welcome God in my life by need
As I sit in a pew for worship
Thumbing the well worn missal
Trying to reason the idea of faith.

Bookmark my life:
Chapters inspired 
By love and strife,
Pages of bliss and yearnings.


Details | Free verse | |

Beauty

1
Beauty holds meaning too many.
There is beauty in all.
Beauty is captured by eyes.
Love is true beauty forever.
Bonding two in glorious bliss,
Love is captured by the heart.
Enriched by the spirit,
Held in sync by touching,
2
Nature’s beauty is in all seen.
Embodiment, collectively,
In all stages of structure
Spring, summer, autumn and winter
Amazing venues of events,
Each with beauty their own,
Empowering the next
Phase of magnetism.
3
What and who knows real true beauty.
Beauty to one is another’s,
Ugliness they cannot stand.
Eyes to eyes make a connection.
Heart to heart a bond forever
Mind to mind develops goal
Beauty of the soul guides
All couples, so serene.


Details | Free verse | |

I Stumble When I Fall

Who am I
this wounded earth 
this silent battlefield
but a lonely tree
rooted in earth
harvested bright seed
thou art here 
to comfort thee

Bury your ear
to the ground
listen for that sound
earth does speak to thee

Yet  I reply that I stumble when I fall

Peach winds surrender 
decayed leaves rain down 
like a wooden soldiers
on hallowed ground 
bare autumn trees embraces me

Galley of angles spread your wings and rejoice in sound
Feet planted firmly on the ground
Remember I have found that 
I stumble when I fall


Details | Lyric | |

Seasons

Season’s


The defining  moments in my life, are like the seasons in me.
The season I was in, determined who I’d be.
Just when I started understanding it seemed the season turned.
The things that I lost became what I yearned.
In the spring time of my life I was foolish and young.
There seemed little consequence for all that I had done.
I hit the road running, never looking back.
Never seeing what I needed, only what I lacked.
So much around disappeared, then it all  was gone,
These became the moments for which I longed.
In the summer of my life, I basked out in the sun.
No responsibilities, my only interest fun.
The days were warm, full of light.
It seemed like the future was nowhere in sight. 
In the autumn of my life there seemed so much change.
Everything in my sights, seemed out of range. 
As the leaves began to fall I thought my life was turning.
Smoke just filled the air, from all the bridges burning.
No matter what I tried, I couldn’t save myself.
Only to awake, seeing someone else.
Then came the winter season, with the cold wind’s blow.
The seeds that I had planted, lie dormant in the snow.
The door slammed behind me, I couldn’t see where to go.
Things that I thought I knew, I didn’t really  know. 
The world outside was dying, but I wasn’t really trying……...
Now it seems that life has come full circle again.
A new beginning from the ashes of the end.
When I thought it may be over, spring time returned.
It carried the message of all that I had learned.
To truly love, you must set everything free.
Then you can realize all that you can be.
With eyes wide open, I finally can see.
That everything I needed was right in front of me.


Details | Rhyme | |

Now That I'm Gone

You've broken my heart before 
and foolishly I let you back in 
I know I'm not strong, I'm weak 
But this time I can't let you win 

You never loved me as much as I loved you 
So why when I look at your face I feel so bad 
I wish you could've appreciated me as I did you 
Your excuse now is you didn't realize what you had 

You know how the saying goes 
You don't know what you have until it's gone 
How come I knew what I had all along? 
Now I must find my place where I belong 

I waited for you to change your ways 
Hoping you would so I could forget 
Immensely you have changed for the worse 
Remembering when we first met 

You've been my good friend for five years 
and my distant boyfriend for two 
I'll always love and be there for you 
No matter what I decide to do.

© Autumn Mae Franklin


Details | Free verse | |

Adages Pt. 1 (the cloud)

Adages Pt. 1 (the cloud) 

I am just baggage to the world 
Cast away and forgotten 
An entire life 
Waiting for something 

Every so often a random passerby 
We exchange formal soliloquy 
Just talking to ourselves 
Wondering if anyone really hears 

They always keep a lock on my eyes 
To desperate to admit sad truths 
Pretend they’re giving me sound advice 
When just quoting old adages to themselves 

They say 
“Follow the sun, 
For in the light shining upon all 
You will find the way” 

The same response 
Every time runs through my head 
“What of the clouds 
Stealing the light from my eyes 
They always gather around me 
Darkening my life 

“And what of deep night 
Where I sink into despair 
Alone and sinking in a world 
Where no one seems to care” 

They don’t seem to hear my words 
Just keep ranting their securities 
All the while shaking like leaves 
In the harshest of autumn winds 

I wonder if anyone can hear me 
Or if I even hear myself 
Can anyone see me? 
Hidden in this cloak of clouds 

I begin to feel comfortable 
As my worldly self 
Begins to drift away 
Comfortable with no sun 
To burn my skin red 
Or to guide my way 

I’m locked into a perpetual night 
As the oppression of my clouds 
Absorbs the light 
Sun and moon and stars 
And I’m left with nothing 
But four walls 
And a roof 
And a little stool to sit on 

I don’t notice any more random passerby 
Just as they never noticed me 
Just quote my old adages 
Some god created just for me 

“Stay in the clouds 
A safe haven from the pain 
I have no need 
Of ever finding the way 

“The world has spoken its ignorance 
And has finally cast me away 
I’m tired of endless clinging 
And the guilt it brings my way 

“If the life in this world 
Revolves around an endless rhyme 
The sun and moon and stars 
I have better places to spend my time 

“A room of nothing 
No windows or air to breathe 
Just a feeling of numb contentment 
As my soul starts to bleed” 

My conscious mind had made its final pitch 
And it is off to the races 
But I’m moving so slow 
So slow


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Selfish employment

Once I was an alien
because of family ties
Once I was a sailor man
Told recruitment lies
Now I am a veteran
with socialized security
A part time postal carrier
With attitude and purity
I subsidize my poverty
By working for myself
In sickness and in health
I am earthbound as an autumn leaf
Blazing colors oh so brief
Twisting madly in the sun
Looking back at what's begun
listing badly misting sadly
hit a reef and come to grief
Closed up again
Just lost a friend


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 | Rhyme | |

First Frost

There is a certain magic 
To the first frost of the year
When autumn’s golden halo
Has been kissed by winter’s cheer.

As the sun climbs over the horizon
Your breath’s vapors become unfurled
Like plumes of steam rising from within
Its warmth in the chill revealed.

Every twig, every branch, every blade of grass
Every surface that one can see
Has been adorned as though from high above
As though diamonds are now given for free.

Every surface has delightfully been adorned
With a million gems thrown from the sky
Having been touched with Jack Frost’s icy caress
Winter’s love of autumn cannot be denied.


(November 30, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,


Details | Free verse | |

DownFall

taken from me
abandoned in the outer reaches of my mind
crashing slowly against the breach
giving, taking, mingling in balance
my mental ballast has erupted
and my soul has eroded
my guilt peeks in on me
to remind me I am still in debt
in the Autumn season of my mentality
I am vandalized and sterilized
left broken and alone
no color
no essence
no future
in the twilight of my descent
I am yet a minor in time 
and can not consent to my downfall


Details | Sonnet | |

Erasing All Trace of Elaine

It’s true, I have forgotten you, Elaine,
Utterly, as leaves when leaving summer trees
Die unremembering, as they coast along the breeze
Toward autumn ground.  No souvenirs remain.

Blurred images efface and fade.  I cannot see your plain
White dress, bedecked with flowered fineries:
Poppies…yellow, orange, with Death-dark centers.  Please
Believe my love’s dissolved, drowned in Fall’s grey rain.

Through dimming years I’ll rarely, any more
View you in my imaginings.  Your summer-tinted hair
Of golden tawn recedes.  My lust cannot recall
Your criminally-carnal figure, or

Your rose-flushed mouth.  Romance lies in Death’s lair.
In autumn’s pall, I have forgotten all.


Details | Sonnet | |

Thief Of Time

Day changes to night without a whimper
Another day of time I can’t retrieve.
The thief of time blithely robbing the hours
From me, a felon that I never see.
I once had youth; my heart was young as spring
Where all life’s offerings were there for me.
But now the yoke that once connected things
Somehow became a distant memory.
Here I am in the autumn of my life
Clinging like a withered leaf on a tree
As the setting sun again turns to night
And the purloiner robs again from me.
How long must I suffer this living death?
Until the thief of time steals my last breath!


Details | Blank verse | |

I am who this poem is making



I am who this poem is making;
this shy monster beginning to understand
that in life one must release the roar. 
I must surrender to this nameless moment; this consequence of destiny waiting
for the impatient clouds of spring to turn the seasons.
No tomorrow no yesterday, just this naked awakening.
I have dressed myself with this veil of my obligation. I have
drawn it about me like the calmer clouds of June and it is everywhere inside of 
me. I am this silent joy, like summer clouds crumbling to the vague voice of 
autumn sun. I am
poet, poem, poetry, drifting freely like the lonely clouds of autumn not yet 
possessed by that harsher reality.
I am who this fading verse has made and all it has done is meaningless...


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 | Bio | |

Peace in a Hectic World

Peace in a Hectic World
   
 
The Cold Wind Blows
It speaks loudly as I venture along.
The autumn leaves are falling.
A reminder that Winter
Soon will be here
I try to keep my heart warm
though reminders of death
all around me
The leaves have fallen
The cold has set in.
But Wait! ! ! 
There is beauty all around me
All of creation
a gift from thee
The deer and the animals they run about.
The streams and the rivers running.
Almost speaking silently...peacefully
Truly in this hectic world
There is peace 
There is peace


Peter LeBuhn

Copyright ©2005 Peter B. Lebuhn 

Peter LeBuhn 
 
 


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 | Narrative | |

It all happens for a reason

Everything that you are happens for a reason.
With each passing thought is a change of season.
 In spring it feels like anything can grow.
The reason becomes just part of the show.

All that I am is a collection of what was.
The only explanation seems to be just because.
Because someone simply took the time to care,
These become all the memories in which we share.

I look out my window to the world outside,
I wasn’t sure so I went along for the ride.
When things got rough and it all feel apart,
I was left standing with this broken heart.

I don’t feel sorry as I view what I learned.
I see all before me as the tables are turned.
With ample sorrow the bridges shall burn.
I see all along what it was that I yearned.

I try to find peace but it is locked in resolve.
It’s like having a puzzle that needs to be solved.
I do realize I have much to be thankful for.
Yet I’m apprehensive of what’s behind the next door.

Everything that happens indeed has its season.
Although the price paid feels much like treason.
I remember the summer when the sun hardly sets.
But with winter approaching all I see is regrets.

I dream of springtime when life begins anew.
I leave behind all the things I’ve been though.
I find some comfort in everything  grows.
 I try to sort out the highs from the lows

But then I realize autumn is the season
The leaves shall fall no matter the reason.
Then all that’s left is to see who we are.
It’s all up to you where you set the bar.


Details | Rhyme | |

Our Exceptional Bond

Here we sit at each others side
A beautiful daughter of innocence
A devoted mother filled with pride

Her gorgeous long flowing hair 
With stunning big brown eyes
My precious gift; a miracle
The most valuable sentimental prize

My mother and my best friend
Her splendor and intelligence alone
Could derail any type of negativity 
For optimism and strength she has shown 

United together as one, our loyalty now in place
A unique special bond unlike any other
Of dedication, trust, and grace

As time has passed we’ve come to realize
The meaning of life and what it entails
It’s not about your monetary possessions 
It’s about the tiniest loving subtle details 

© Autumn Mae Franklin & Stacy Lynn Stiles


Details | Free verse | |

that sound alone

"shhhhh.....shissssssh"
"be quiet"...whispered
"Can you hear that?"
.
.
"What is that sound?"

Is it far...a faraway
train whistle lonesome
from song of mainline?

Is it the soft ting
of the tea kettle 
cooling on the stove, 
bending it's metal?

"What is that sound?"

It is the slow creak
of old wooden chairs
as mortise and tenon
slowly adjust, torqued 
to a shifting weight.

Could be a mantle
clock tiptoe ticking
away Sunday afternoon.
Why don't they make
digital clocks tick?

Is it that catlike scratch
of the Autumn branch
gently scraping the window?

"What is that sound?"

It is the hushed hum
of computer fan lulling
a digital brain.

The Venetian blinds
rhythmically tap half-open 
double-hung windows.

The vibrating whir
of some electric motor
compressing or orbiting
the periodic table.

Mountains of Quaking Aspen
leaves relaxing the winds.

When is alone welcome
and when is it forlorn?

The weight of near silence,
light as the dust that
floats the sunlit room,
or heavy as a cardiac
anvil under ancient
spreading Chestnut tree.

Did the bell toll at
the village church,
ringing all comers
to awake momentarily, or
was that just tinnitus?

Unable to open eyes,
sounds belie surroundings
and alone might be 
fallacy or welcome.

Deceptive senses afoot
in the stirrup, and hammer
tapping anvil might only
be a mindful dream.

© Goode Guy 2011-06-13


Details | I do not know? | |

Can We Be

Can we be

Can we be the rocks in the pool
At the start of the day when the sun is cool

Can we be the babbling stream
That bathes the land and reflects the sunbeam

Can we be the leaves in the trees
The autumn wind that brings the breeze

Can we be the waves on the shore
That cleans the beaches with a mighty roar

Can we be that beautiful view
The picture that reminds me of you

Can we be the voice of the bird
That sings so sweetly but utters not a word

Can we be the notes in a song 
That touches the heart and make us belong

Can we be at the end of the day 
When people rest and animals play

Can we be the twinkle in the star
That shines so brightly from afar
 
Can we be the sea and the sky
Can we be together you and I 


Details | Verse | |

Gautama Told Me

an apparition prophetic
a blond flowery baby girl
be it a sacredly bald monk
we live flashlike lives
i keep my legs fingers arms crossed

won't tell me honestly
when to start or stop
my religion is now at its most
let's continue like autumn rustles
and die like wild quacks

stir me a little more
so that i am a hurricane
calm me to death
so that i am spoken of

dead end is meaningless
pathless grounds i traverse
go up with the angels
down with the mad

you try a mosque in the rise
when the sun begins its smile
flog cheer and crucify

the happy end is in the middle
somewhat off the way
i write to you
go to all the joints of body
be no more little


Details | Free verse | |

Rush Hour In The City.

Midnight breezes cool and humid
Circles of hazy lamps glowing
In the nights hanging fog
Everywhere abound
The crowds rushing blindly
Suitcases and grocery sacks
Leather coats and limousines
Window displays go dark at closing
Headlights mirroring off asphalt
Carrying a somebody
To a somewhere home
In this noisy silence I sit watching
Avenues and alleyways 
Waiting for that voice calling out to me
Conceiving the faces of lovers
Furtive aspirations flow
The envisage of a laughing moment
Dark azure skies dotted
As the winds gently shiver
Swaying in lullaby
Magnolia branches
Cold and void of life
Echoing who I’ve become
No where else to go
But this cold autumn wind
With subdued semblance
Of…
Harsh bright lights
In the cool city nights.


Details | I do not know? | |

Autumn

it seems as if a new day has come 
the rising sun has filled my heart with hope
the cool autumn breeze has awakened the inner me
and now i can see the inner you and
how true love can really be
like the waves of the ocean or the sea
rising and falling 
crashing and calming
so gentle at times it feels like the essence of peace
but like a flash of lightening it can change 
and here comes the rain beating down on you
and beating down on your brain 
which is exploding from the pain
causing disdain 
while the smile that once lit up the world
slowly vanishes
like the setting of the sun
it is no more
then the dew forms on the new grass
and the birds sweet song in the breeze is
resounding in my ears
filling me with a sensation that i have never felt
and as the butterfly passes by 
it's fluttering wings
makes me wonder and in an instant
i am astounded by the radiance of the rising sun
the power and beauty warming me
warming my soul 
as the crisp orange, burnt red, brown, and green leaves
fall from the trees 
i can see that a new day has come


Details | Ballad | |

WHERE DO ALL THE BIRDS GO?

Where do all the birds go? 
Autumn brings rain 
The birds............ 
Gone again 
Before the winter snow 

Where do the birds go? 
Leaving me......... 
All alone.......... 
With a leafless tree 
Birds, flown 
Yet, not me 

Where did all the birds go? 
Quiet flurry of snow........ 
They gave no sign......... 
They didn't show...... 

To follow a sun...... 
The birds....... 
The Autumn rain........ 
Here again.......... 
The birds... 
gone.......... 
One by one 

Where do all the birds go? 
I do not know 
I have no wings, 
to follow........ 
I sit and wait for Spring 
The return of sound........ 
From the air 
Feathered things found........ 
I missed them so 

I do not have wings, 
to take me to the sun 
They left me.......... 
One by one 
My heart no longer sings 
I must wait.......... 
Until winter is done, 
and spring has begun 


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? | |

Second Choice

If you had a second choice,
time to view and change and error,
would you call with bated voice,
to a bonny lass so fairer?

Would you pull the clockwork back,
stop the Autumn leaves from falling,
seize the reapers hood so slack,
pull him from his date of calling?

Would you pull from starry sky,
set the planets off asunder,
make the heavens answer why,
there's no answer when you wonder?

Would you listen if you knew,
would you set this lonely error,
on a shelf that's painted blue,
like her bonny eyes so fairer?


Details | I do not know? | |

The Provider

When autumn chilled the maple
And turned the ginko leaves to gold
Strolling by creek water ripples
I my love to hubby told

The provider who's not gifted
At tender loving charms
Wrapped his arms around me
In gratitude that was warm

Once he picked me wild flowers
A bucket full I'd say
Just to show his appreciation
For loving him always


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 | Free verse | |

Colour Me

Joy comes in the mourning, 
and you color me true
Colour me red, 
and you colour me blue

Lavender sky dancing 
 on sugar plum clouds
Olive green corn stalks 
 nestled on a farm
Curious black crows 
 nobody wants to know
Orange blossoms planted 
 in soft maple hair
Ruby red slippers
 and no place like home
Crimson red sunset 
 reflects in indigo eyes

Colour me bright, 
and colour me bold
You bring autumn leaves 
painted green and gold


Details | Rhyme | |

Relapse

A summer sweetness fills the air,
And spring is in the park,
But winter chills their hearts of gold,
And clothes them in the dark

A song is on the lips of trees,
And blooming flowers hum,
But autumn turns them all to brown,
And rids them of the sun

A calming lull is on the pond,
And sleeping shore is still,
But storm arrives to take the clouds,
And rain against their will

A silver moon is in the sky,
And stars are out to play,
But shadow hides their sparkling eyes,
And turns their light to grey.


Details | Free verse | |

everlasting embrace

examples abound of spiritual renewal
reminders to all of inner jewels

from larvae , to cocoon , a butterflies wing
fallen leaves of autumn , rebirth in spring
molting spiders , shedding skin of a snake
winter snows fall , to fill our summers lake

landscapes broaden , spaces become filled
memories , anticipation , all absorb the thrill
miniturized beads full of life and meaning
complete the essence of physical being

embrace of love , eternal life's kiss
sweet breath universal , a joyous bliss
colors bloom , smell the fragrance
from the heat of the sun's golden radiance

spherical orbs spin their symphony
earthly levels hum their melody
together they sing in perfect harmony
music of the universe deep within' me

everything i know has allowed me.. to be ,
everywhere i go , your presence surrounds me .


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 | I do not know? | |

now

(now)
i did not know that two could be one,
how was i to know when
this One was
Two?
but in this threesome
(my two and our one)
Einstein - itseems - has been sorely
deceived;
for though we are but nothing
yet eternities are many 
are they not?) 
My world (now) is your world, 
and 
i could not wish me to unshare it. 
(Now; 
i’m falling like an autumn leaf, 
feeling like i might; 
floating 
like 
an 
aeroplane& 
flying like a 
Kite. 


Details | I do not know? | |

SOMEDAY

Someday............ 
This grey sky 
will become blue 
My grey sky, 
changing too 

My thoughts 
scattered like birds 
Kicked up autumn leaves, 
swirling around uncaught 

This knot,I cannot undo 
I cannot turn 
my stomach begins to churn 
what can I do? 

This patience I lack, 
born of frustration 
Help me get it back, 
to a place 
with my own space, 
my salvation 

Peace and grace 
is the way 
What I want to see 
upon your face 
especially for me 
someday.................. 

Someday.......... 
soon, 
grey sky 
becoming blue 
My spirit to fly 
as far as the moon 
Maybe yours too 

Someday.............. 
Some change 
Some blue 
instead of grey 
Sometimes the only way, 
someday......... 

Someday 
this unseen force 
can change 
grey into blue 
I want it too 
Keep thoughts at bay 
For, someday........... 
someday............. 
I can change into blue 



Details | Free verse | |

Earthbound Angel

On what would seem my darkest hour.
And as I was starring blindly into the void.
A voive of reason and calm fluttered down
from the heavens.
A soldier i am not 
so this was not Elysium.
But yet, I stood before golden threads
frolicking in the in the autumn breeze.
Glistening emeralds and the purest ivory.
It must be heaven or some part of it.
This modern day angel but gave me peace
and calmed my heart.
Bonded in pairs of eternal gold we were wed.
And this angel of mine for me she bled.
Giving me salvation and a child.
This modern day angel is my wife.
My guardian angel for life. 



Details | I do not know? | |

WHERE DO ALL THE BIRDS GO?

Where do all the birds go? 
Autumn brings rain 
The birds............ 
Gone again 
Before the winter snow 

Where do the birds go? 
Leaving me......... 
All alone.......... 
With a leafless tree 
Birds, flown 
Yet, not me 

Where did all the birds go? 
Quiet flurry of snow........ 
They gave no sign......... 
They didn't show...... 

To follow a sun...... 
The birds....... 
The Autumn rain........ 
Here again.......... 
The birds... 
gone.......... 
One by one 

Where do all the birds go? 
I do not know 
I have no wings, 
to follow........ 
I sit and wait for Spring 
The return of sound........ 
From the air 
Feathered things found........ 
I missed them so 

I do not have wings, 
to take me to the sun 
They left me.......... 
One by one 
My heart no longer sings 
I must wait.......... 
Until winter is done, 
and spring has begun 


Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Breeze

A warm breeze to soothe away my pain
 A gentle nudge a kind reminder
 that with every momentary loss is gain 
that all things go through the grinder
 to stress less is a small blessing 
swinging in the strong arms of a breeze 
this notions makes all of life at ease 
watching the dandelions dance in it 
to be lulled to sleep with it
 to receive a small reward because of it 
the sassiness of the wind to taunt us so
 to create chaos with one blow
 so i adore its simplicity
 the simpleness that is 
an Autumn Breeze 


Details | Ballad | |

SOMEDAY

Someday............ 
This grey sky 
will become blue 
My grey sky, 
changing too 

My thoughts 
scattered like birds 
Kicked up autumn leaves, 
swirling around uncaught 

This knot,I cannot undo 
I cannot turn 
my stomach begins to churn 
what can I do? 

This patience I lack, 
born of frustration 
Help me get it back, 
to a place 
with my own space, 
my salvation 

Peace and grace 
is the way 
What I want to see 
upon your face 
especially for me 
someday.................. 

Someday.......... 
soon, 
grey sky 
becoming blue 
My spirit to fly 
as far as the moon 
Maybe yours too 

Someday.............. 
Some change 
Some blue 
instead of grey 
Sometimes the only way, 
someday......... 

Someday 
this unseen force 
can change 
grey into blue 
I want it too 
Keep thoughts at bay 
For, someday........... 
someday............. 
I can change into blue