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Death Seasons Poems | Death Poems About Seasons

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

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Details | Haiku | |

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Now my tendrilled soul,
Has found its pergola-- Christ--
To wind its way up....


Details | Quatrain | |

October Brings No Rest For These

Emerald etchings are given birth 
to bask their lives in summer's sun, 
until brushing brutal winters cheek, 
They cower yellow; brown undone. 
Swirling down onto concrete pyres, 
They somersault to a random grave. 
The earth lays claim to copper corpses 
But the winter wind is a cunning knave. 
It finds and flips the fallen fibers, 
then flings them crisply to the street. 
The failing sheaves of burnt magenta, 
tossed like chaff from harvest wheat. 
Now strewn about with playful malice, 
and denied the resting place they crave, 
for the golden sun is a glint of amber, 
but the winter wind is a chilling knave.


Details | I do not know? | |

(It Feels) Like: This too shall pass

Like the end
Like a death
Like you cant catch your breath
Like it wont end
Like the pain will kill you
Like tomorrow will be full of more pain
Like your heartbeat will stop
Like no one likes you forever
Like you will never love again
Like all you ever known has rejected you
Like your soul is crying
Like your darkest place has kicked you out
Like you will never recover
Like you are the ONLY one
Like you can’t go own another moment
Like you are the biggest fool
Like the LIE is real
Like the truth did not set you free
Like she is the only love
Like being ask to live the rest of your life without LOVE
Like there is no forgiveness for you
Like God stop your blessings
Like you have flat lined but didn’t die
Like you die every every day every day
Like you are the worst person ever
Like God doesn’t love you
Like you won’t make it back from the pain
Like you want to weep
Like you want to weep
Like you want to weep
Like there will never be someone who adores you…for you
Like your heart is broken
Like you can’t go on
Like you love a love that don’t love you back
Like you don’t know how to love, so it asks to be excused and leaves
Like your life and your love won’t ever matter
Like you want be blessed anymore 
Like you have wasted so much time…
Like you want to just die… (Make the pain stop)
Like hope is as hope does…no hope for you
Like they get away ….Free and clear
Like you are left broken 
Like they get to live HAPPY EVER AFTER
LIKE: THIS TOO SHALL PASS


Details | Verse | |

Cycles

The rosebud blooms—makes its grand debut 
in joyous spring.  Day by day, its
petals open wide—all stages lead to
fullness in the end. When autumn air
delivers chill, its petals drop as life
and death their endless duet sing. It
then awaits new life next spring when
The rosebud blooms—makes its grand debut

© Sandra M. Haight 2014 
   All Rights Reserved


~8th Place~
Contest 8 Lines 7 Words Enjambment
Sponsor: Rick Pairse


Details | Rhyme | |

The trail of the dying sun

The trail of the dying sun
told me of your tears
and the west wind
brought me your name

The river spoke
of all our fears
the ocean
felt the same

The earth waits to receive your bones
and your spirit be cradled by sky
all we are is dust and thought
dust and thought until we die


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 | |

COLD TOMBSTONE

I came here with flowers
held gently to my sobbing chest,
to bring them to my dearest;
I have departed from the living,
to come face to face with my ending...

I lay my flowers at this cold tombstone...
engraved with a name too sweet,
and yet so painful to call it out;
the heat in my throbbing veins
could warm it up with a loving wish before dawn;
but who can resurrect someone from death?

This morning is dazzled by an intense sun,
carnations, flags and tombstones
perfectly blend as the swaying pines 
offer their breeze and soothing shade towards noon;
why are the noisy larks hiding,
and melancholically sing?

I rushed here to release these tears
and let them roll from these eyes,
like raindrops falling on this very quiet place:
where tranquility is as eternal as Paradise...

I lay my flowers at this cold tombstone,
feeling a presence so known;
others before me have knelt and cried, 
not to forget whom they lost and dearly loved...



Details | I do not know? | |

Alone A Tree In Mourning

A single bee
Alone a tree.
A single day in morning.
His slicker sly 
Of catching eyes.
His sweeter side of aging.
Like sticky seeds,
These blossom beads.
The winter plants are dying.
A drunken bee
Flies lazily,
Brought down by nectar drinking.

Our springs are wet
With sweet forgets.
Our hearts forever bleeding.
Our summers heat,
These days retreat,
Our only summer setting.
Our summers die
In lullabies.
I wish I wont stop dreaming.
A passer by
I might ask why
Alone a tree in morning?

And possibly 
He’d die to be 
My only glimpse of fleeting.
Without a care 
Our pulses dare
To reach the height of running.
A gentle sigh,
An open mind,
Holds within each waiting.

His ancient cry
Of reasons why.
His simple song of saving.
I'll never die 
He'll say tonight
While other dawns are breaking.
A passer by,
I might ask why
Alone a tree in mourning? 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Day My Uncle Died



The Day My Uncle Died...

I was thinking about the smile on my uncle’s face….
This was a before he would “leave this place."

I'll never forget the words shortly before he died.
The more I thought about it, the more I cried.

He said, "you know Jimmy I wish I got to know you better."
I never received another phone
 call or even a letter.

A few days later he was ready to go to a funeral.
But it was also him who received a burial.

I was shocked and amazed as to what happened.
The events took place. There was no way
 I could "stop them."

Memories I had were from many years ago.
I often think about him.    And I do miss him so!

I suppose many don't take the time to realize...
How quickly life passes... 
Then someone dies.

Perhaps there's someone in your
 life you can think of…
There's been a situation that you're
embarrassed to "speak of/"

A harsh word said, and angry thought was spoken.
And soon your relationship has been "broken."

This may be a good time with this person to spend.
Irregardless if they're what you'd call a "friend."

Everyone is important to God who reigns above.
We need to be filled with his mercy and love.

The person you haven't seen shall one day disappear...
The days are short...  Our journey's end is so near!

May God speak to our heart and help us to see...
Where will you and I be spending our eternity???

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Epitaph | |

MY UNIQUE LINE : JSL -------A Day Of Ones In The Sun---

Inundating radiant sunshine beams down on my face fervently tracing crows feet nearing the frown I can taste obliterating tear streaks transmitting them into the depths of outer space introducing an iridescent spectrum of piercing waves golden ears fear in the race Electromagnetic oscillation inspiring me to rely religiously upon solar energy photosynthesis eradicating unwanted toxins by chasing them vehemently So on this sacred date of "ONE"… negative energy is trumped by the positive tsunami of the sun and as she dares me to stare into her face of grace ninety three million miles away… I sigh as her radiance blasts my face in such a merciful way suddenly my shaking knees give way to an epiphany that this day is laced with sanctity Finally the world's eyes feast upon an auspicious uniformed alignment five ones standing side by side gold adorned a spiritual aspirant making change the world will see... "The Sun's Seven" pronouncing a unified spirituality
* Entrance for P.d.'s "Unique Line" Contest-----This poem's title is unique "A Day of Ones In the Sun" because it describes a very special and unique calendar date 11-1-1. But if you missed it... don't worry or let your eyes get blurry with tears cus' 11-11 's comin' in a hurry to relinquish your fears.....so yes there will be another day of ones on 11-11-1! tho' I can't promise you at the Soup that the 11th will be filled with sun!------I believe my poetry, like many others on this amazing site, has a fresh variety, inspired by life and everything in it! I hope you enjoy my lines like :"the world's eyes feast upon an auspicious uniformed alignment five ones standing side by side gold adorned a spiritual aspirant"


Details | Rhyme | |

A Woeful Winter Dirge

Comes winter with its icy blast 
Across the land thy death shadow cast
Life purged by thy soulless wind 
With thy sting of death thou doest offend
Thy snowy shroud upon January’s cold ground lain
Bitter tears of crystal ice now rain
Naked branches broken and battered in sorrow doth wail 
amid thy northern gales. 
Woeful Winter Dirge!   
May the southern breeze push back thy artic surge
O Scourge of the seasons release your icy grasp 
May the sun shine at last!



 


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 | Sonnet | |

Catch Me If You Can French Sonnet

<               enticing to eyes watching mama's pink roses bloom
                 fourty years later someone else now cares for them
                 fresh cut daily and seen in her arms their long stems
                 tears streaming down face I sit under swollen moon
                 waiting watching for sun to come up again soon
                 to catch one more glimsp of mama's planted old gems
                 unfurling petals before been chopped or condemned
                 think I'll ask if can take one for my dining room

                 aroma bursting amidst thy supper's table
                 bowed heads we come and thank our Heavenly father
                 somebody still cared though sick and times unable
                 and answers it's door for which one has come bothered
                 to let bask in roses empowering fable
                 and not to be called as it's one's roses robber



French Sonnet is a poem with rhyme scheme
Of ABBAABBA and CDCDCD
Or ABBAABBA and CDECDE
Syllable count is 12 syllable per line.


Details | Haiku | |

Awe Man

<                                 life's bare essentials
                                   can become some great assets
                                   in dires time need

                                  predator or prey
                                  endangerment of species
                                  remains that of man 




Entry For John Freeman's 
Haiku/Senryu 
Natural And Beyond Contest 
G.L. All                               


Details | Lyric | |

Elysium Dream of Love

I close my weary eyes
Holding onto the hope
Of not having to cope
Not a mintue longer
Without you by my side
Not expierencing
The warm look in your eyes
The tingling rush of your finger tips
That would grip my hair tight
To stop you from slipping into the night
Biting  your bottom lip
As a pinch to yourself
To see if it was real
The dream of love we felt
And now that you are gone
I only wish to die
Your image fades from my mind
Sometimes I see it clear,
The sun is skillfully stroking it set in the sky
As my feet float down the road across the tuscan country side
I ever so gently sense the wildy grown wheat
Tickling these troubled lines engraved in the palm of my hand
I playfully pick one out of the land and pluck the grains
I look up and in the distance is where she waits
But there she remains peacefully strolling through the calming field
In a white cotton dress that tails off in the wind and
wearing a small confident smile that makes my yearning heart yield
Whispering in my ear that soon I will make it home
But my Life's journey must continue down this God paved road
I awake with the longing of her, But with so much to do
I need God's strength for one more day to get through


Details | Free verse | |

Work

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


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Details | Rhyme | |

Time

Time goes by so slowly 
Life goes by so fast 
We are just the sand 
In a desert so vast 
Time is the reaper 
We are the corn 
Time is so plentiful 
when we are born 
When we get old 
Time is the same 
But you and I cannot remain 
When we are grieving 
Time is the healer 
When we are sleeping 
Time has no meaning 
When we are dying 
Time does no crying 


Details | Free verse | |

Ice Rains

Why I am thinking of my father
on the topic of white snows
perhaps because he seemed almost Hispanic
in his youth, tanned, dark hair and eyes
but whiteness shone the day
he came home early
worry caught my breath in chest
and only in the morning
did the firemen come, taking him away.

Such heart spasms, clench us all,
yet snow falls so softly, unexpected
and ice rains even less noticed
they drip, drip, coating the roads
and only when we step too fast
skews our vehicle, ends us in ditch
new babies without parents,
stitches in our heads. 
The drips spire down the icicles,

coat the roses as buds, never to open,
and yet, sometimes, I wish to be inside
tasting the ice cold water like fire
turning blue to the ends of my limbs
in sleepiness, and setting ablaze 
my very soul, like a light, shine out as call
here, with me, all the memories
a blanket of witness to eternity
dripping into us experience’s minerals.

Who could do magic with a wand
headed with all of life’s power to hold?
Who could accept magic in waves
like the falling of snow, or wonder
that we escaped from death,
that we saw roses, saw the spirals
climb down from the sky as raindrops
and drip, drip, into our thoughts
all that began as white and ended.


Details | Sonnet | |

Almighty - Shower your love and bless us

 
 This poem is dedicated to those who are suffering from natural disaster 
 wrote by Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare

 Almighty - Shower Your Love !!!!! 

 Ohh my Almighty, Ohh my Nature..
 Everything was alright, everything was fine..
 But what made you do this????
 That you astringently affected the Life of Divine..
 Why you had lend with with no mercy..
 You showered your gift in terms of cursy..
 Drenching tears of the exciting people..
 Pangs of separation happened between lovely couple..
 How much it is aching to there pity family..
 Everyone got acceleratingly disheartened gradually..
 Just now left with the new dawn and the iota of Hope..
 Hey nature please try to rudenessly cope..
 Mankind struggling for their last breathe..
 Please bless them for our sake under your sheathe..

 Please endow them for their wellbeing and glorious life ahead!!!!



By Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare





Details | Quatrain | |

Ode To Autumn

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

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

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


Details | Rhyme | |

The Sleeping Giant

<                 the sleeping giant once again has been awoke
                   to the sounds of great thunder and billows of smoke
                   what has happened his imperial's majesty's sleep
                   out from the depts of hell a great wavetrain has creeped


                   tainting soil where once land had been so enriched
                   brandishing homes businesses left them in a ditch
                   twisted metals dancing in swirls of stenching air
                   recovered bodies of beloved this is so unfair


                   across it's great mountain range somber is now heard
                   unity becomes one and not forgotten word
                   rebuild rebuild the sleeping giant request
                   let our people of japan return to their nest


                  for there will always's be another tomorrow
                  where earthquakes and tsunami's will bring such sorrow
                  for an sleeping giant all nestled in his bed
                  and his people dressed in five elements of thread





Tribute To Japan


Details | Free verse | |

September Weather

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Rhyme | |

An Era gone

An Era Gone.

An era gone, what's it about?
This life as folk move in and out
And Mum and dad now they're gone too
To be recharged then start anew
A funny dance this life it be
Dancing on eternally.

Yes life it be a complex tale
wrote on the screen of here and now
Brief images just dancing by
Their aim, to make one wonder why
For man can never be like beast
Who happy be, yet know the least.

So deep within my core I feel
A stream that flows and always will
There's spring, then summer, Autumn too
And then the winter. Start anew
So round and round and round it goes
Forever on the river flows.

So me, I see old mum and dad
Reunited, happy, glad.
within a garden filled with splendor
Together oh so loving, tender
As they wait once more to come on down
As the circle keeps on turning round.

2000 Socrares.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Tragic Feather

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

In My Community

Our Ancestors fought to the death,
Just so we can live a brighter day,
So before you light up that blunt of meth,
Think about what you’re giving away,
It was a glad day in history when Obama rose to victory,
The first black president was all we knew,
Dark skin is in!
Haven’t you heard?
That even in our community, 
You can get burned,
It’s a sad day when people would rather stay home and “Crank That Amber Cole”,
Than get up and run to a poll,
In our community,
Rockin’ Luis V is better than having a college degree,
And teen pregnancy is not only a trend,
But the single motherhood that follows should end,
Young girls learn of a wonderful prince to take them away,
Nothing should change thought their mothers prince didn’t stay,
And as the tears fade away,
She grows stronger every day,
In our community,
Fighting is no longer a word,
You argue with someone and shots are heard,
Girls showing places the sun don’t show,
So how do they expect the community to grow?
Where love is a figment of imagination,
Making a young child question her creation,
Young mothers would rather buy the iPhone 5,
Then satisfy her baby’s cries,
While her new man’s eye,
Wander up another girl’s thighs,
In our community,
Where #team dark skin vs #team light skin,
Makes others not love the skin they’re in,
Love, lust, hate, and trust,
Giving a rose on Valentine’s Day is no longer a must, 
Where bad is good and good is bad,
Who would think to see their grandmother sad?
Her hurt and pain,
Shows how our community has lost everything her parents fought to gain.


Details | Haiku | |

Hurricanes

Nature’s wrath supreme
Tearing down humanity
Human grace denied


Details | Haiku | |

Carnations

Rows of carnations
children grab, defying rule
time withers with them.


© ~JSLambert  2011


Details | Rhyme | |

A Halloween Scene

Close your windows; draw the blinds as day turns into night
Shut your door and wrap up warm with a bedside table light

Close your eyes and try to sleep but also stay aware
As what may happen in the night could seem like a nightmare

You'll start to hear the sounds of souls, moaning cries and screams
You sneak a peek around yourself but nothing is as it seems

From the ceiling drip by drip and down the walls it flows
Pools of blood soaked in the rug to ooze between your toes

Ghastly ghouls and grimacing ghosts trapped within their doom
Creep and crawl under your bed and float around your room

They'll slide over your covers and slither in-between
As they wriggle to whisper in your ear...

Have a happy Hallowe'en!!!


Details | Imagism | |

Something good

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

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

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

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


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


Details | I do not know? | |

A Walk Alone

Quick as a blade lunging forward to claim a life, is this darkness falling upon me. Whispers of a sorrow, known so long ago, float in the thickness of the night. Twigs snap in the distance, I turn but my eyes fail me.. My own hand in front of my face goes unseen... then, all becomes quiet... 
   Walking along a gravel path, each step makes the pebbles unearth and dance along side me until coming to a halt.. Searching for even the slightest sign of light.. my head tilts towards the sky looking for the moon or the stars to show me what little comfort they could offer.. I am alone. Even they have abandoned me on this wicked night. Owls hooting in the midst of this forest, as if to let the rest of the forest know I am here.. and I am alone.. the wind at my back shows no mercy on my path to find light.. it taunts me, urging me to run as if it knows something I do not.. As soon as that thought was finished, a screech! 
   Snapping and cracking from branches being broken in a direct path to me. Finally I can take it no more, rendered so helpless, Frantic, I run blindly with arms reached out in front of me to take the blunt force of whatever I may run into.
suddenly, there is a loud "THUD"...
   The screeching stops, as do I.. Heart pounding intensely, it is as if it is not my heart at all, but drums being played.. Lungs threatening to collapse as my knees buckle. Tears of fear streaming down these burning cheeks..
whats that? Foot steps! I ask myself, from where? I spin, there!
   Don't scream, don't move..  Crouched down low to the ground. Eyes burning from the rush of tears, heart wrenching and twisting between my ribs.
A light! Scared, I stand.. One moment passes and the next I'm running... but why? Light is what I'm searching for! No..safety.. from fears and my pain... 
   This forest is a manifestation of my fears.. I must face them!
My feet come to a steady stop. Turning to face the enclosing footsteps.. My adrenalin is fading I can now feel where the broken branches had their way with the bare skin of my arms and legs. I can feel the lumps forming.

The light!
Eyes shut I cling to a nearby tree.. deep breaths in, deep breathes out.. bracing myself for what is about to come.

My eyes dart open...


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #351 / Sagittarius A

In the center of our galaxy
from 1992 through 2003
astronomers were able to observe
a star, orbiting compact radio source
Sagittarius A.
The star had an orbit with average radius
1.4x1014 m
and period 15 years.
From this information astronomers estimated
the mass of Sagittarius A.
v = 2π(1.4x1014)/(15x365x24x60x60) = 1.86x106 m/s
a = (1.86x106)2/(1.4x1014) = 0.0247 m/s2
0.0247 = (6.673x10-11)M/(1.4x1014)2
M = 7.24x1036 kg
7.24x1036/(1.989x1030) = 3.6 million suns!
Astronomers infer that Sag. A is a
supermassive black hole
(it cannot be seen)!
OH LITTLE STAR


Details | Rhyme | |

Death, Hell and the Grave Defeated

Death, Hell and the Grave Defeated "I will ransom them from the power of the grave ; I will redeem them from death. Where, O death, are your plagues? Where, O grave, is your destruction?" Hos 13:14 NIV Death, hell and the grave Were defeated at the cross, Although Christ's life appeared a failure; No possible gain just loss. This is where death lost its victory; Resurrection made possible. Just as Christ was resurrected; Called forth by God’s heavenly angel. Christ raised not a hand to resist The evil powers at his side. Without His total surrender, Death’s grave would forever reside. The cross was perceived as failure, But it was victory instead. For that was the world's perception Of our Savior’s bloodshed. Death, hell and the grave Have been defeated for some time. Although death persists, The righteous find their Spring time. Christ will soon come To call them from their graves; Take them home to heaven; Where sin no more enslaves. Poem featured in Maureen's book entitled, Easter Poems Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2009-2012 www.maureenlefanue.com


Details | Free verse | |

Dead Bodies and Pretty Flowers

In her last breath,
Her phantom slid in the air,
Dissipating into nothingness
Just as she was nothingness.
Laying draped in our tears
Hades cuddled her lifeless body
And smiling,
Clawed her by the skin
Dragging her beyond our understanding.
Nothing to claim for our own.

Lunch arrived.
Nibble. Crunch. Chew.
Dead never tasted sweeter.
Sucking the vitality from her,
They push up beyond her decaying flesh.
Brown. Raw. Destroyed.
And into a fragrant spring.


Details | Free verse | |

Raven Flies Free



 
 
 

Long-lived and rusted 
the flint lock pistol clutched in suspense......        
death had come to call......              
with a longing in her heart.......
she stood guard fighting her transformation,  
silent fog rolled beneath a picturesque cliff......
waiting in silence her spirit cried for confirmation,
a longing for a peaceful flight enthralled her desperate heart........
in the distance swirling clouds parted
at once, a voice in harmonic rhythm sang out
"freedom to fly free my dear raven"
"freedom to fly free my dear raven"............
and in that instant her spirit rose in a peaceful calm......
destiny had been received, 
a glorious revelation revealed
engulfed in love her spirit rejoice......
Hallelujah......
Hallelujah...... 
Palet......Palet......Palet...............

Her spirit soar......


________________________
Hebrew translation for "Palet" is "Deliverer"

________________________
A Rambling Poet Contest~Among The Dead
Poet~Rick Parise


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Murder Of One Lead To Another

The Murder Of One Lead To Another


My death caused yours. I left without a fight like I had all those times before. Murder by my own self-indulgence. Looking how I had left you to your own devices, if I would had known that would be the cause of your death would I have been less self centered? Can you hear me singing to you as you slit your wrist and separate soul and body? Slowly slipping away as I sing the song of the 7 veils. I yearned for you, as you loved for me could we be the most perfect couple to die for selfish wish. What fools we are leaving this world just for a death we know nothing of. 
Stop! Return! Don’t leave me just yet! Are the words I hear as I return to living breathing state, I was returned back to this world? For you I could live on, for you I could die by your side, for you I would make you live forever with me. I was murder, you slit your wrist but in the moment of leaving this world we both was called back by the body we left behind. We came back hand and hand together to stay side by side. I was murder you slit your wrist, but in that last moment I came back for you and you came back for me. Did you see it our nearly over soul ready to be devoured and consumed by our greed? 
I was murder, as you slit your wrist. We tried to destroy our suffering and we nearly destroyed our bond. My death led to your death but in our final moment we were called back to this unforgivable world. Murder by self-indulgence, suicide of a broken heart, which was our ways out of this world. Thank you for calling me back.


Details | Narrative | |

All About Her

I dont know much about her
but I heard she wasnt that talkative
She didnt like being alive
She was numb to all the pain she had to go through

I heard she didnt like anything that was green
She ate roman noodles everynight for supper
She always wore flannels and bellbottoms
Sometimes i seen her wear dresses and fancy tops
But lately shes been wearing band shirts

She wears converse shoes and uses an army bag for school
I know that she dosent like to communicate through talking... only through her peoms
or sometimes even her songs.

I see her drawing and painting all the time
She draws famous people
She would like to be famous and not so unknown
When she tries to speak to anyone they always walk away and leave her alone

When she gets home she goes upstairs to play her bass guitar
She hates chocolate cake but loves chocolate
Her family left her behind because she cant forget her past

Sometimes when shes alone she contemplates the meaning behind her life
Her favorite color is gray because her life is black and white
Everything she says is false according to the world

She is not so innocent
I understand that she dreams about the perfect life
When she opens her eyes they are pitch black

She is someone that is fake
She acts nothing like she should
She is very grungy and unclean

She knows of no safety
and of no time
Her life is smashed into pieces by the giant sun

She will always be a ghost
She knows of no god
She crawls around in the world of death
She remains forgotten


Details | Free verse | |

Rakes and Flames

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

Into Winterberry Ash

Caught upon an evening Pass the arms on edge Of rocking chair trails reeling Sipping away into fairy tale Wild off, cool life teas Melting ice, and lemon veranda breeze By and by bloomers chase In and out, of innocent days To the last of Indian summer And brittle beneath awakes Crying boards that ever creak As all familiar remembers A voice bone deep, is missed Rattles toward the center And out pass the winds and placid lake September “Oh, dear Evelyn” our dreams Hung under wind chime tingles Trace love amid soft autumns twinkle No longer songbird melodies braid In early morning after children Now shadow, in the splashes of sunning place Timepiece is now the empty grass Once with, now without you As I end a road that leads nearer to your path And sooner wither folds Under snow, bird angels holding hands High into winterberry ash


Details | Free verse | |

As lightning strikes the Joshua Tree

When lightning strikes the Joshua tree
The air is frightfully clear.
The children quiet their 
Jacks and Jump ropes
As the suburbia settles it's ears.
An ivy beneath a sycamore tree 
Watching a fire with envy.

It wonders,
How on nature's rich, ripe earth
Is there a power
So quick to devour
The beauty and grace of a Joshua tree.
Why is it the branches crumble so
When Ivy's destruction is subtle and slow.
Why do fires spawn sputtered cries
When an English Ivy lays easy on the eyes.

A Mexican woman pours tears to the land.
She cries for the homeless
And weeps for the sand.
She mutters one word that no one will hear
She pleads that you feel it 
Without dwindling fear.

When finally sleep comes
The children then stir
As they dream of a fire too bold to endure.
The woman will weep
As the fires grow.
She cries for the Joshua trees,
It's roots and it's leaves,
With a few tears for you,
And a couple for me.


Details | Chant Royal | |

if and when i die

if and when i die

if i die
never ask yourself why
i had to die
because i'd have died
so wipe all your tears dry
and move on for another try
for pain is all within for a bligh
and if i live again.....sigh! 

when i die today or whenever
i would die a sad soul forever
for life with no meaning is never
a life to reckon with, ever
and my soul may go wheresoever
to find eternal peace howsoever

say not that you did not know
nor did you not blow
the whistle for chains on my hands sore
and again i'd just bow
to what it should be, so
my hands on fire them glow
to strain me not to go
as my legs also sore
from toe to toe

for, if and when i die 
never should you cry
nor ask yourself why
that i had to die.

opn22112011/0300 

from: 'patterns of life' 
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-and-when-i-die/


Details | Terza Rima | |

THE SHARPEST SPEAR

What life has to do with unpreventable death,
if all I do is live without scope or time...
not being the least aware of loss of breath?


These years are lived with remorseful treason, 
being afraid of losing my battle... 
while fate scorns me with constant derision!


Who lived an existence of tormenting thoughts, 
bearing pain without emitting a single moan,
and hiding them well behind false pretensions?   


All I have left is this faith glowing in the shadows of winter...
it diverges any wind that might put it out with a strong blow,
but determined to keep it burning: neither I fret nor shiver!


Angry fate, cast no stones...my end must come abruptly; 
strike me with the sharpest spear and spare me agony. 









Details | Quatrain | |

ESTEFANIA WAS THE SPANISH HORSE

Estephania was the Spanish horse,
with a chestnut coat and mane   
and a lighter long tail...and she ate
alfalfa for strong teeth and bones.


She was domesticated, losing her liberty
and neighing she showed keen ability:
to spot dangers on a perilous path...
Estefania even stopped for a stranded cat.


In summertime she fed mostly on grass,
but bees stung her many times to protest,
and struggling to get them off her tail...
she hit a shrilling raven in the head.


And feeling sorry for the dying bird wincing, 
Estefania licked his semi-open eyes...giving
him a little comfort as he folded his wings;
and whinnying she wept a river of tears.


Details | Senryu | |

Old Bones

sifting through the stones
wrist deep in icy currents
the creak of old bones


Details | I do not know? | |

found by the lost

The world of ice,
in perfect white,
tainted blood,
as black as night,
the love of lost,
on end of chain,
the shoeless freak,
out in the rain,
the homeless child,
lost in fright,
sleeps by day,
runs by night,
always forward,
never back,
the heartless Psycho,
the bodies stack,
the dark and red,
on silver blade,
you now lay in,
the bed you made.


Details | Haiku | |

Winter

Fingers
Blue
From 
Cold
Ice 
Shines
Compact
Under
Foot
Snow
Falls
Bodies
Drop






Details | Cowboy | |

guitar band dementia

camera three is having 
an existential crisis; 
his long languid lens 
has suffered in silence, 
an impotent shard of 
quixotic resistance, 
for his vision won’t 
focus on faecal injustice, 

camera three is having 
an existential crisis; 
mascots, despots, 
or other devices,
just won’t solve the problem,
or even negate, 
this delicate time 
in his delicate state,

camera three is having 
an existential crisis; 
Osiris, Anubis, Oasis and Isis, 
have all shed the skin of 
guitar band dementia, 
wheeling out wisdom 
for the fear of inertia,
camera three is having 
an existential crisis…


Details | Free verse | |

The Hourglass of Life

A new season begun, a new life, a new birth,
engraving our story here upon earth.
The pages turn slowly.
Each day will pass.
Life is measured by the hourglass.
The sands of time pass graciously.
The book is written of mystery.
Echoes of silence, the pages are blank.
For the hourglass of life holds no rank.
Let today be today.
Look not to tomorrow.
For life will fade on the pages of sorrow.
Read the story,
you must go on.
Turn the pages of a new dawn.
To every beginning there is an end.
Your spirit will soar high in the wind.
Hurry before time runs out.
For life surely fades without a doubt.
The clock counts down each grain of sand.
Turn the page and understand.
Reflections of love and holding hands.
This page though so innocent,
a beautiful child of heaven scent,
happiness in a life well spent.
Turn the page again once more,
to find the key to all closed doors.
This page tells of mom and me,
the many cherished memories,
undying love for family.
Turn the page, see all my friends,
from around the world and all nations.
This page tells of sacred marriage,
to have, to hold, and also cherish.
This page tells of many great storms,
the sea of tears, and the thunder roars.
This page holds the photographs,
of many dreams that once was had.
Though some memories of life you can't recall.
The book of seasons, winter, spring, summer, and fall.
The last page to turn, so there's a stall.
The last grain of sand that slowly falls.
Now for a moment don't you cry,
the hourglass of life told us no lie.
For all is born and then must die.
God grant me the time to say goodbye.


Details | Rhyme | |

Humpty Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty had a Great Fall 
His Winter was one of the best of them all
The Spring was a gift of Eternal Life
Summer reminds him of the Death of his Wife


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Gator Bait Series 1st Cold Snapped

The wind was blowing when she left the city...

I believe it was twenty below...

Where she was going she already knew...

But... first she had things she had to do...

Get rid of the body that was clear....

There were no options, it had to disappear....

The heater was broken and blowing cold air...

She could feel the ice, building up in her hair..

She had cleaned up the blood as best she could...

As she had hit him hard with that log of wood...

All she had asked him, was to light a fire...

To take off the chill in the house....

Do it yourself if you are cold...he snapped

And while you’re at it get me a cold beer...from the fridge..




It was early morning when she finally arrived at the bridge..

This was his favourite fishing spot...

She pushed his body off the pier...along with his ice cold beer..

And suddenly began to shiver and sneeze.....

Oh well, she said...this too shall pass..

When I get to the Florida Keys..


PS..this is the first in a series..watch for part 2.."gator bait..the dream "










Details | Lyric | |

Must see September in the rain

September in the rain.

Must see September in the rain
I’m waiting for September in my pain
Let me watch those wild flowers blooming
As the circle turns again
Must see September in the rain.

Don’t know what’s coming up for me
Yet even if it turns to misery
I’ve got to heard those Spring birds praying
As they dance with destiny
Must see September in the rain

Oh lord, I’ve got to feel it
That Springs breath touch my skin
Caressing me with beauty
Let me feel it seeping in.

Lord, I’ve got to hear those creatures sing
Oh lift me, let me breath the joy of Spring
Let me hear those angels singing
As they call me back again
Must see September in the rain.


Details | Elegy | |

Ice Cold

I see you there
While your swarms of light surround you
A typhoon could hit,
And you'd still stand just as still
Your expression unfaltering through it all

 
It is spring now
Your name smells like flowers
But the rose
Of your cheeks is gone
Winter frost clings to your hardened face

 
Your eyes were rich
Like sunset on planting soil
Warm earth to sleep on
Now I sleep in the trees
I always get frostbite from the cold ground

 
A touch of your skin
Would make my heart melt
Last time we met
Gliding your arm underneath my robes,
I shivered
You were ice cold


Details | Rhyme | |

TIME STOPPED ON TREMBLING LIPS

Barely fourteen
and wildly carefree,
I had seen a couple kiss
as roses climbed the dogwood tree...
even clouds made the September' wind hiss;
I curiously stared at them and fantasized as any teen.


Time stopped on trembling lips
as I tenderly kissed that pretty girl 
whose hair was chestnut brown and long,
Kerry was too shy to reciprocate and running she fell;
" I'm hurt! " she yelled waving her tiny hand shining in golden sun rays...
" Don't move! " I hollered and taking a quick look, I wiped the blood off her leg.


" Thank you, " she timidly whispered
and suddenly hugged me, giving me a quick kiss as an intimidated fool,
" Let me help you get home safely, you need some band aid
 to stop the bleeding...tomorrow you should be able to go to school. "
I assured her with a touch of tenderness that she felt through her skin 
full of sand, " Help me up,  I can walk ", she said as a tear appeared on her chin. 


Only once time stopped on trembling lips,
often I had wished it would have happened again in the same place,
but no kiss was ever that sweet to inflame two so young and innocent;
and more than love, it was an affection that lasted through our memorable youth.
Kerry got ill and died years later, I've visited her grave today and left on it a last kiss;
can I wail and curse fate for having separated us by the unmerciful hand of death?   


Details | Rhyme | |

THE HANGING THING THAT MAKES US SMILE

A discussion on the round,
But it knows, it doesn't have to sound,
For, it is blamed for a crime it never meant to commit,
It's work was to bring smiles,and so it never did quit.

For seasons pass, it remains at halt,
It's passiveness after that though, is not actually it's fault,
But few seasons are such,
Which make it run,
Forever and ever,it's never done.

Runs fast, never worries of speed,
Someone else would nastily bleed,
Coz, it obeys, and changes speeds in seconds
It's our finger tips on which it reckons.

Three hands and a grip so tight,
With content the family bids good night,
But, their trust lies with the tough material it is made of,
For once if it loses the grip, it could break someone's head off…. ;)


Details | Free verse | |

The Winter Wolf

Silent whispers on broken vows, I cling to my dream of you.
You are the forest’s end, the wolf’s grin.
Climbing to the edge of bliss and sin,
There’s noting to obscure the view.

Looking to the sky laced with clouds, my eyes pierce the haze.
You danced into my world as a child.
Untamed, beckoning me to the wild.  
You unleashed my wings, bloodying my back, spirit crazed.

Little wolf, silver blade by my side.
We ran through the wood,
Constantly seeking to bloody our prey.
I am full on the carrion and broken pride.
 
Now you are gone, and all I have is your ghost.
A child, a maiden, a lover, a memory.
Frost grips at the beautiful ivory,
To the life I lead, to the path you craved most.


Details | Sonnet | |

Black and White

Stars above and stars below,
On silent ripples alone I go,
Across the water, the trembling plain,
In the empty quiet I’m at last without pain

The dark of the sky is a balm to my eyes
My ears are caressed by the pines and their sighs
And the mind’s rest must come from the sweet summer air
For if that's not peace then how could it bear,

The vicious words that stream from every cranny:
The screaming mistress and the sobbing of the nanny.
She falls and hears the slam of the door
The father yells from the top floor.

In moon filled dreams I watch her go 
Swollen belly black against pure snow.


Details | Free verse | |

Home

twenty-four hours and counting.........
I have been called home to the realm above 
I must submit a bow and gracefully move forward
I must leave you behind my friend, my life....

But, for now......
I shall,

sing a symphony of celebration
dance naked deep within the trees of belief  
dive from the highest cliff I can find
sit quietly and sip chamomile tea 
I will run as fast as I can
skipping and jumping up to each cloud I see
I will relish each moment with a ponder and a plea
as the clock tics down to a grand completion
I will fall upon my knees 
a prayer of thanks I will recite
a word of encouragement to each one who has brought me into the light
I sit for now, grateful for each second spent next to you 
a grateful journey of splendid yesterdays
joyous the celebration , I pledge to watch over thee

goodbye for now......... 

soon a flight to be free.................

quite a Tantalize sensation  

wings 

a halo

yes , it is me..........


 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

January's Wishes Spoken Through the Dishonesty of April.

Her eyes amused me, slices of January that held April tightly....

she could rain in snow, drop from upside-down skies, and we held tightly to the tears that
only appeared on the opposite side of closet doors as we marked our claim on unusual with
hand prints that never saw the sun.

Two days could have passed underneath us before we blinked, my windows whispered glorious
promises but we kept them closed for safety, for the opposition of who we could be, and
she knew the secret of every season, she knew how to laugh when bedroom doors...

closed.


I drew her behind the mirror and we created October across December stars, we became
disobedient underneath the glorious names we sang that night for lips speak magic when
they pretend to lie and dishonesty was but a kiss away from sunrise.


Time stung me come August, come March, come the age of thirty-two, her eyes had been shut
for years now and she sunk beneath flowers I am positive would be beautiful enough to
photograph had I the courage to glance, but my feet have never crossed the grass that
blankets her and roots her promises...

tangled beneath tomorrow with a tight grasp on yesterday, and I wonder if the days have
yet to fade the color of her hair.


It rained in January when I existed miles away, teardrops of memories that fell as softly
as the whispers of her name, I closed the bedroom door tightly and listened intensely for
the echoes of dishonesty, for she remained there, somewhere, behind mirrors that painted
her and the lies that bit my tongue, that reassured me...


our hand prints would hide from summer...

covered in ice-cream secrets that screamed her pain from a smile, from a foolish wish that
spoke us inseparable.


Her eyes, blue as October, slapped me, that day, as they painted themselves the secrets
girls are never supposed to witness, as they refused to allow April to fall but declared

honesty

with the beauty that she

could never see.




Details | I do not know? | |

Pleas and Poison

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

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

Sleep
No thought
No Touch
No words


Kisses never here
Smile forgotten

Make me stone when i am dead
Take away my name

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

I'll take my last look when the summer comes


Details | Rhyme | |

The petal's fall

Next to the road’s trough
The cosmos flowers bow
Down and curtsy
As if to royalty
As we pass by
Waving wanly as they die

The road is wrapped in misty shrouds
Trees hugged by earthbound clouds
Cosmos petals dripping tears
End of season, end of years

Before frost falls all glory lost
Browning leaves in crusted frost
Before they die a last hurrah
As courting bees made each a ma

And as things die down at last to rest
Seed in soil by God’s Word blessed
Waiting patiently, silently, sleepily
Until frosted mist warms oh so weepily

Announcing spring in early rays
Of shorter nights and longer days
To raise a head through soil so dead
To live again as God’s Word said

So we too grow and flower and die
But no need to wail and cry
As we too a seed becomes
Until our Lord on cloud crown comes


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Stitches of January.

“Buy me a scarf” she said and curled her toes through snow to demonstrate the color of
numbness..

“Buy me a scarf and I'll wrap our memories around my neck, you can watch me smile in
storms as I contemplate warmth and look at you beneath the sky.”


I wrote promises on windows with fingers that touched shadows and counted snowflakes
crystals as I destroyed their patterns in a feeble attempt to claim love...

There, in the house that spoke one thousand tears, I thought about the secrets we
whispered when the year turned and purple was fantastic on the other side of frozen lakes
despite the voices that named us something unspeakable.

Rings and silver and I wore one on my toe, polished perfectly, my feet felt summer and I
laughed in lilts of June and breaths of lilac bushes that lined my backyard, but I kept my
closet door shut, winter stitches on shelves so January's voice would never be heard...

I boxed up photographs and letters that quoted songs we had sang together, I covered up
her haircut and placed her eyeliner in an envelope but I knew, beneath the ground where
lilac bushes rooted themselves...

she wore the ring I had placed upon her finger on her fourteenth birthday, on the day
August spoke up and we listened intently, mocking 

January

and bedposts that wrote her name...


and I sat, cleaning prints off of windows, erasing promises and eluding love, wondering,
if I had learned how to knit, would sidewalks have been so convincing?


I listened to memories and bought myself a scarf, wrapped stitches of January around my
neck and heard her, in laughter, as she whispered through the wind that numbed the fingers
that broke promises...

“Lend me your scarf, and I'll see you, I'll hold your hand when August knocks you down.”







Details | Haiku | |

Tragedy

withering petals
gently fall on hardened earth
autumn's tragedy


Details | Haiku | |

Leaving Autumn

Gilded orange/brown 
Readying to return down
Rise from root once more


Details | Free verse | |

Wanderer

A dusty old town-so quiet
a man, a traveler
takes off his pack-so heavy
and reclines for a rest.

they dont know his name, they never do
they wont even bother to ask
he troubles them-his mysterious past
leads them to prejudiced views

but were one to ask, for if naught but a name
what would this traveler say- would he speak?
a word, no. a name, he would give them and pass
"Im Wanderer, the world is my street."

Wanderer-what a name
does it signify much of his life
or is it a code- a cypher?
an enigma to his past.



Details | Haiku | |

C'est La Vie

Like a winter’s night Death often arrives too soon. And lasts far too long.


Details | ABC | |

Hellow, Hallow-E'en

It’s almost midnight
On All Hallow’s Eve
And I’m here to seduce,
Entrance and deceive

Tonight I come calling,
a nightmarish creature –
You’ll cling to the stories
You’ve been told by your preachers

Who tell you that ghouls
Are all in the mind,
But watch out for my presence
Amongst man-unkind

Creeping and crawling,
I live for this night –
I’m a monster most hideous,
My first name is Fright

I’m the truth of your nightmares,
The terror is sheer
And scaring you senseless
Fills me with cheer
 
I’m the presence 
Who inhabits your dreams
I’m alive in your deep,
Darkest screams

I exist to appall you,
Immerse you in fear
And my day of wakening
Is now, it’s right here

This one night in autumn
I visit from hell
Where I have been watching you,
I know you quite well

I’ve waited so patiently
For this Halloween
So I can show you my real face,
Gaunt, slimy, green

When you first lay your eyes
On the terrible me,
You’ll know I’m black evil,
But won’t believe what you see
 
Shapeless and hopeless,
I do not exist
In the time-space continuum
In which you persist

I’m other-dimensional,
Invisible, huge
My lips aren’t quite white,
My cheeks smeared with rouge

My hair’s writhing reptiles,
My nails twisted and curled
My breath stinks of Hades –
I’m so not of your world

I slither through shadows,
I suck the life from your dreams
I slurp up your terror
And munch on your screams

You can shutter your windows
Padlock each door
You still won’t be safe –
I’ll rise up through your floor

At midnight, I’ll seize you
And drag you away –
You’ll never see the light
Of All Hallow’s Day


Details | Rhyme | |

A Winter Stroll Beckoning Wordsworth

A walk through the fields, the marshes nigh  
Water risen steep along the banks  
Swinging low a grey tailed hawk flies  
To the girl's shrouded figure, stooping, it aims 
She feels the swoosh of its wings, her ash curls caught  
Entangled in a hundred claws  
    
Oh Oh she cries with a fearful yell  
The wind races the clouds' billowy bursts   
As she struggles to try and free herself   
She bends to the ground, though only for the worst   
Blood splatters the grass and soaks the soil   
Life gushes out, like lava at its boil   
    
Winter buries deep, the snowfalls and the setting suns   
Virgin white covers the silent and the frozen 
And in the Spring, when new life has begun   
Within the hug of her bones, a wing is broken 


Details | Free verse | |

Skull King Around

Skeletal treetops rake a Wagnerian sky.
like fingertips, chasing Valkyrie’s,
through cirrus clouds;
conducting the winter wind,
across the cerulean blue tarp
of early evening.

Bare beds, a mass of fallen leafs, shiver;
above bulbs of tulips and daffodils
which rest like skulls in a grave.

The sullen light of late December dusk,
pierces the scene with shadows,
sharpening the edges of brick walks
to bloody wayward knees
frost crusts, scabbing over the vacant
graves of long lost pets as
the day ends.  


Details | Pastoral | |

FLOATING EMOTIONS ON A RAINY DAY

Falling on earth, raindrops
Resound with nimble noise
And moisturizes those crops
With its damp aquatic voice.

Lightning astounds fiercer
Than the flashings of Sun.
It scatters hither and thither
As if it were a childish fun.

The roads mingles wastes
And sinks in watery flood.
People discard their castes
As water unify their blood.

Every heart feels something,
Moments of joy, expectation,
Some hearts hurt by a sting,
Some full of intense passion.

The River brims with water
And it combines with village
As if it were part of the river
While houses, trees submerge.

In some places water wedges
With tranquility of damp flow
Though murky furrows, sludges
Whilst tenor of longings glow.

The echoes of raindrops float
And load some eyes with tear,
Rouse some unconscious heart
With a sense of unknown fear.

Some think of coming future,
Some remember elapsed past,
Some identifying with Nature
Sense the season as their last.


Details | Bio | |

The Longest Road

The longest road that I recall,
isn’t very long at all
I used to ride it is a child
on sunny Saturday afternoons
my sister and I play car games
she says “That is your house”
and points to a trailer
I say “This is yours”
and point to a dumpster
Yet we do not worry
what really will become of us
We continue in our coloring books
Along with an old banjo cassette
and when we feel gravel under the tires
and we can no longer color inside the lines
we’ll know we are close to arrival.
My sister graduates from Law school this may
and I am just now getting started
The longest road that I recall
Isn’t really long at all.


Details | Epyllion | |

Wild Vanilla

Cerberus bleeds through copper  tablets.
The red skinned angel spews the truth
Of ages.  Of wood: we sing hollow
Hosannas:  too many fragments 
Of light – flutter past the eyelids.

I wait.  Impatiently – push stones
Through needle eyes.  Honey 
Combed monsters breath deep. Mimic
Lies told by cloaked creatures living
On shadow time.

The flesh forever green.  Pillars of fire
Illuminate infinity.  Here comes the 
(dis)believer of the free word. Those
that stain us – rule.  Hypocrisy of the 
one that deigned himself God.

Later, the fly awakens.  Time to leave,
The dream has finally run out.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Year of Death

September sharpens a knife
and hands it to December
the year has one foot in the grave
as we marvel at leaves of ember

October strips trees to nude puppets
as children play in their corpses 
scatter their bodies about the ground
and burn them without remorse
birds tred upon the harvest
their gluttony, a foolish sum
their chest-high pride and full bellies
will only be consumed next month

November coronates itself,
a crown of ice and tin,
An Antichrist of misery,
A wolf in shepherd's skin

December hides in the shadows
and cradles the eleven months
with one last breath,
January steals the knife,
and stabs them all to death.


Details | Haiku | |

Autumn

Cracks in the pavement
Leaves litter naked brown earth
It all returns down


Details | Sestina | |

Autumn Breeze

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

     BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
     September 25, 2008


Details | Blank verse | |

Funeral for a Friend

The day is sad and cold.
The white pine at the forest's clearing
	pours sap, like tears
From the many meaningless gashes
	of the hatchet's blade.
A rogue shoelace dangles from a high branch.
These things are acquired
	from the busy-ness of Summer.
The time has yet come to bid farewell,
As the old tree clings to the last tendrils
of its ever growing, ever green life.
The arborist reports, 
	this will be my friend's last day in this life.
A few of its children have survived long enough
To now gather at the clearing's edge 
	in solemn respect.
The nearby meadow grows more yellow in mourning
Of what is yet to come.
Even the stubborn sky turns gray
And weeps for these hours of departure.
The matted ground beneath collects the fallen foliage
Like flowers on an open grave.
And I, I can only offer a few respectful words:
An eulogy paled by comparison
And inadequate to capture
The sweet life this old friendship
	has borrowed from this forest.


Details | Rhyme | |

A storm is coming

A storm is coming 
near
On our faces, 
nothing but fear
Ignorance protects 
the heart of the 
young
Never knowing what 
they're among

Some shake their 
heads in disbelief
Some take cover in 
the earth beneath
Man protect woman, 
woman protect child
Objects tossed, this 
wind is wild

A cry for help is 
never heard
Every man for 
himself, it's quite 
absurd
You know the saying 
"joy comes in the 
morning"
But in their hearts 
it's still a bit stormy

They remember the 
ones they loss even 
though they are now 
apart, may they 
know they remain in 
our hearts, as life 
goes on to a new 
start

A storm is coming, a 
storm has came
The storm is over, 
lives were claimed
And the ones that 
are left will never be 
the same...
A storm is coming 
so is the pain



                                                                                     -
Ashley Humes


Details | Free verse | |

Almost Autumn

it's september now;
the mornings are cooler
than just a few days ago,
the trees are curling their leaves
upwards, and turning yellow towards life.

one last kiss good-bye,
what choice do they have?

i remember when my roots were pulled,
it's been cold since then and
september had just begun,
it's never about choices.

the wind is whispering a song,
like a mother's lullaby,
and the leaves are falling like evening
across the sky, red-orange bliss
towards something they can't see happening,
yet it always rains beyond the blue
and i still taste it in that last kiss,

cold as the days that are soon to come,
soon the leaves will drop towards the ground
pile up and become nothing but a memory
several feet under winter's march
then decompose into nothing
more than stale air, 
yet, what choice do they have?

(my mother died Sept first, many years ago and this time of year triggers much emotion)


Details | Rhyme | |

A Road to Nowhere

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


Details | Free verse | |

Unseasonably Warm The Light It Gives

Unseasonably warm is my heart,
warmed further by the sun near wilted grass
on a midday forage, whose emerald dew evaporated before it touched my tongue.

Unseasonably warm is my heart,
but empty is my stomach.

Unseasonably warm is my fur,
weighed down with perspiration in the rippling air
which woke me from my winter nap to wander wilting hotlands.

Unseasonably warm is my heart,
but empty is my stomach.

Unseasonably warm is my breath,
laboring to keep a gasp, as every step is heavier then the last in the fog.
The fog which permeates the rippling air, and stills my eyes with blinders.

Unseasonably warm is my heart,
but empty is my stomach.

Unseasonably warm is my stomach,
voicing it's unrest in the surly heat,
as I wander unseasonably through the forage which never bloomed,
searching for a meal which never woke
...from it's long eternal slumber.

Unseasonably warm is my heart,
untimely is my faint
...whisper to me from afar, oh keeper of my destiny.


Details | Quintain (English) | |

SOFT ORANGE BLOSSOMS

These soft orange blossoms
are more colorful and fragrant
than the velvety, wild roses...
hastily clinging to sturdy sunflowers' stems,
fretting a danger too real and so imminent.


His manly hands attacked her in an orchard of beautiful roses, 
and she left blood stains on those delicate, scattered petals...
who did hear the young virgin's painful cry,
subdued by the quails' loud twitter in the shady elms' branches? 
Some did, but continued to walk and let her die!


Her mother wailed under the weeping, embracing elms... 
they saw her child struggle and despair, but they couldn't help;
why did that brutal man raped her and beat her to death?
And what kind of punishment he deserves for that cruel act?
Wouldn't a just judge be furious and imprison him for life?


A light wind detached the soft orange blossoms from the branches,
and let them gently fall on her violated body to cover with dignity 
the purest and youngest blood spilled in the meadow of clovers;
God Himself cried from His throne, and sent His angel of mercy
to the sorrowful and lamenting earth, which had seen the eyes of innocence.  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Rhyme | |

The Final Sleep

A petal falls as morning dawns flutters and sways gently aground a light breeze may carry it away before nature finalizes decay the golden rose from whence it came stands bare, its grace dismayed a bud, a bloom, a scent to please offers memories of what has been a cycle of life, or so it seems a moment in time or merely a dream did we note its wonderful bloom or did it live in solitude too short a life to go unseen beauty bounds within our realms reflect on all of nature’s being before we near our final sleep © Elisabeth Dubois – March – 2011


Details | Free verse | |

my favourite path

i see it before me 
i have not stepped towards, nor walked along its direction 
it is clearly there for me to do so 
the decision 
can stray left or right of the way I go 
and all I know 
is that it starts 
before me


Details | Rhyme | |

Five

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

Solstice of the two faces

silky sunlight stirs the air
then, falling supine
with motion spills upon striking tips of oak
clenched between bony fingers
a passing vision of life,
where lucid thoughts
and passionate needs
are found resurrected in a winter's day
the graves of yellow daffodils lie 
beneath a blanket of fallen snow
inspiring faith in tomorrow


Details | Alliteration | |

Apart, Apart, in Ever-Dream

I come from Dawn to Night's long mile
Whose boyhood heard the songs of brooks
And mourned the sparrow's falling,
And Hope, those days did lift my wings
As lone I strode the gardened fields 
Of honied labyrinth...
Apart, apart! In Ever-Dream,
My bliss found full at giants feet-
Enthralled, bewitched at Sky's orations
Or what forests deep did tell...
And now the Day's long-bearded trek
But to endless shade proceeds...


Details | Haiku | |

Dark Days

The day has darkend
 And the lagoon has frozen
 Death could come anytime


Details | Verse | |

gallows tune

twisted branches cast their shadows
upon dusk infested gallows
slowly bringing up some shallow
hollow eyes, so full of fear

waiting out the fall and winter
with tighter ropes in wooden splinter
slipping into nooses center
taking lives away from here

captivated by death standing 
a chilly hand all demanding
crowds have gathered, screaming, chanting
chants that rise into the air

guilty lined up, all are pleading
families gathered, crying, weeping
weeping for their loved receding
into reapers silent care

* still working *


Details | Free verse | |

Element Nature

The world is based on the four elements; Earth, Wind, Eater and Fire They have given us water to drink Wind to breathe Earth to keep us warm Earth to keep us afloat, But, we have misused them and now we have angered them They havr risen and they will bring detsruction down on us Water brings raging floods Earth causes earthquakes Wind uses hurricanes to blow us away and Fire brings down lightning on us You want this to stop, You want this to end They have warned you They are merciless The elements will destroy all life and create new life.


Details | Free verse | |

Frozen Seeds In The Dead of Winter



" Frozen Seeds In The Dead of Winter ... "

(Eccl. 3: 2)



Let Me Die
On The Cold Forest Floor
In The Glittering Dead of Winter

Let Me Not Cry
At Its Freeze-To-Death-Core
As I Lay In Its Rigid Center

And Open and Close
The 'Rest In Peace' Door
and Bid Dark Oblivion Enter

Leave Me Exposed
Where Only Blind Blizzards Snore
In The Harsh-Hush of Howling Censure

Take Me Deep
So An Avalanche Stores
My Frost-Mist and Ice-Block Sculpture

Where I Shall Sleep
As Heavy Snow and Sleet - - Pour
In This Glacial, Slumbering Adventure

Blanket Me, Goodbye
Where The Cold Ground Bore
The Last Seed of My Life To Endure

Wintry Sky
Sinks To Take Me Where Before
I Touched This Frigid Temperature

Now, Let Me Die
On Cold Forest Floor, I Adore
In Its Glittering Dead of Winter

... A Grave Season Fixture


        Written & Copyrighted ©:  1/7/2014
               by:  MoonBee Canady 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Following of the Pipes

On this cold winter night
A horror unfurls
As they leave their trenches
Under the Bagpipes skirl

It's Christmas Eve
In World War One
Over the top they leave
The killing has begun

Knee deep in mud
Barbed wire and bodies
The piper laments
Their bravery embodied

To march into battle
With their weapon of pipes
Whilst bullets and bombs
Leave the theatre in strife

Onward they march
Turning men into hero's
The battle of the Somme
Last centuries ground zero
 
What makes such a man
To enter a war
His weapon of music
That they follow him for

Amongst the men that fall
Others pick up their guns
When the piper falls
Their is no one

On this cold Christmas Day
The horrors have been unfurled
As one looks over the trenches
To a different world

But the very next day
In the distance you will hear
The sound of the Scottish Bagpipes
Leaving their enemy in fear



        In memory to all who fell at Christmas time, and especially to the pipers
who used music as their weapon, we will remember them, as all will be remembered




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-5.php




Details | Free verse | |

ISN'T MARCH A MAD MONTH

Don't put away your winter wardrobe,
it's still chilly and you need a coat;
tornados are devastaing the Midwest,
and snow can only make it worse...
who dares not say," Isn't March a mad month? "


It felt almost springtime when temperatures
rose as high as fifty eight degrees yesterday,
and that was late February, but March is whimful
and anything can happen over twenty four hours...
buds on branches would love to sprout and bloom!


Don't catch a cold by wearing a tee shirt and shorts,
the changeable weather may fool you and you will get sick...
so wear a warm jacket, hat, gloves and insulated booths;
if rains falls, it'll be icy and cold can seep into your bones...
why not endure a little longer and say, " Isn't March a mad month?"


Details | Free verse | |

An Ode to Birth and Death

Darkness ended, Winter released her icy grip; budding crystals soon began to drip.

The Earth then tendered, its surface filled with life; Spring now wed to Summer, the
radiant rays piercing the frozen skies.

But Beauty gives way to Destruction and forests turn to tinder.

Here lies the crossroads, an Ode to Birth and Death.

A flower that slowly bloomed left stranded now in late Spring, scorched by Summer’s rays,
but oh its beauty still remains.

It lives on desolate ground. A mind unfolded, it's heart retouched.

And at last outlasted a depression that once did rule. And you the fair Demise, how will
you compromise? When we together win the prize.

Flailing futilely in a sea of lies; the Fountain of Youth was found, its waters tainted.

Perhaps it’s best not to toy with Life and Death.

The Seasons unwillingly shifting, the Sun now in full bloom, and the flower starts to wilt;

Beautiful, as death begins to set, while Summer touched the Earth.

Petals fall away like tear drops on the skin, and light penetrates in a wonderful array.

Ever growing heat, now begins to drain them of life, while petals turned to dust, carried
away in gusts.

Together fertilized, yet unaware, it only dares to bring about despair.

Death gives back again to Life; an early end to a late start.

A new beginning comes from dust and decay, as the Summer sun now fades away.

The burning skies teaming with gray.

Death takes a new form; white, blinding, crushing and consuming.

Oh but gorgeous it remains, In time, life grows again,

Coming from the wastes of a flower that late bloomed.Yet life anew begins too soon.

In Winter’s last grasp, her touch did drain, when frozen ashes did remain;

Here is life’s penultimate breath, the greatest Ode to Birth and Death.


Details | Free verse | |

Life of the Grasshopper

Life of the Grasshopper





The birds are flying south for winter
The chipmunks have squirreled away a stash
The ants have slaved all summer to survive
But another season still holds death


The grasshopper has no pretenses
It lives its days
But lives in the moment
Then dies
Just like everything else


The grasshopper had a lot of life in its year
The bird, the chipmunk, and the ant all had a lot of years in their life
All used up working to delay the inevitable
Looking, but never seeing a silent, still moment
A dandelion trying to catch the wind
A ripple racing on a stream
A cloud cartwheeling across the sky
A forest reaching for the sun
Perfection


They’re too busy to find peace
Holding too tight to find release
Mocking the grasshopper’s wisdom
Resenting it for its life of freedom
And its peace with death


Details | Verse | |

Dense Fog

Dense fog Sunrise hidden Cold penetrates Three golden pears still hang Waiting their time of ripeness The owl hoots
Vignette


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 | |

I have arrived

I wonder why that one leaf clings 
lone and wind-tattered
to the weathered old oak;
held firm between gnarled fingers
long after the others have given in
to spiral dance in bravery to the ground below
Is there hope, a promise made
between leaf and tree
of something greater yet to come,
or is it reluctance to let go, even fear that inspires such hesitation?
I have been more and less like the second leaf, than the first
(though I would dearly love to know what it waits for)
I lack the patience for hanging around
so I let go 
into the arms of fate
never to know whether I will fall or be caught
until I have arrived


Details | Acrostic | |

Beginning of an End

On this 
Night
Everything that 
Loves will loose.
Everything that lives
At last will die.
Forts will crumble.
Fate will step back
And nap.
Lovers will cry and heartache will
Laugh. Tonight in the 
Still Wind Cold.  


Details | Free verse | |

Changing Season

Crystal white  
dew crunches underfoot ...
late winter
late spring
freezing air in April
what will summer bring?

Old folks always talk
about the weather ...
the rain now masking the daily fear
of death.

Its getting closer
permeating consciousness
with its insidious reality.

Yes, what will summer bring
and will I survive
another winter
is how the mind begins
to tally the sand
as it flows through the hour glass
crystal white.


Details | Rhyme | |

SPRING AND THE DEVIL'S ARM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Details | Ottava rima | |

GIOVANNA: THE LOVELY PRIMA DONNA

I often visited the prittiest and kindest lady,
who lived by an abandoned, weedy cemetery...
and she told me tales that made me dream;
up that pine-scented and rugged hill, the Devil tripped many times and finally fell:
when her holiness set her gracious face aglow!
And she never cursed God, but continued her creed,
believing that she was put on earth to sanctify love;
and she planted many seeds in the moist garden...flowers that made her life livelier!
 

Exchanging her pure soul for money, never tempted her:
living happily and continuously blessing God's name;
if that's how one is blessed, many shouldn't need to wonder...
how she never asked anyone for anything...relying on Providence! 
Every spring morning she tended to those roses and gardenias, 
like mothers care for their adored children;  and she sang
opera like a glamorous prima donna on the illuminated stage:
how astonished were the passersby hearing those lovely areas!
 

Giovanna, lovely prima donna, sing another beautiful area for me,
let me hear how a soprano can feel that divine harmony;
teach me all the lyrics and the tunes that embellish them:
I am a quick-learner and my passion goes beyond my talent!
Giovanna, lovely prima donna, you sought no honors or earthly glory, 
and your visions were grander than those idolized singers,
who only asked for applauds and repeats from the cheering crowds;
you had none of these...only this aspiring-tenor-to-be! 


I passed by her house yesterday, the shades were pulled down...her garden 
without butterflies was arid and the pretty flowers fluctuated no more; 
and the tall pines trees didn't offer their inebriating, sweet aroma,
but there was no sound of Giovanna's voice, the voice of the lovely prima donna:
canaries and bluebirds weren't frantically tapping on her closed window!
In a white laced dress, wearing red shoes and a green velvety hat:
she displayed her national pride, recalling the enchanted land of music and poetry,
where her unforgettable childhood was spent with an innocence so free! 



Details | Free verse | |

Winter Solace

O that winter
Could calm the raging storm
That her kisses so tender
Would silence tempestuous fire
Cradle me in her icy embrace
Let her pure snow
Blanket over every hurt
And freeze these endless tears
May arctic lullabies
Lull me 
Into slumber eternal
Where dreams of crystalline flakes
Cover, conceal tragic memories
Until this anguished heart
Is laid to rest
No more to suffer
Another tortuous, heavy beat
Let me sleep 
Forever in winter's loving embrace.


Details | Diamante | |

E is for Ecto

Maud dreamed by the fire, her blue eyes half-closed,
While a grey cat on a grey mat beside her reposed.
Then she wakened and watched as the fast-falling snow
Was whipped into drifts when the sad wind would blow.
The moments that make up a life span are fleet,
Passing by with the stealth of a kitten's soft feet.
Since then, many winters this old earth has turned,
And I can't even guess when the last embers burned.
But where the hearth warmed, a computer now stands,
And someone's been typing with very cold hands
And piling spreadsheets on a table all day
On the very same spot where a grey cat once lay.
You're alone, so stop turning -- you won't find a trace
Of the blue eyes and smile of a little girl's face;
But when winds start moaning and driving the snow,
Maud may send you a ghost-mail from long, long ago.


Details | I do not know? | |

golden age

golden flecks and reflected light

float slowly to the base

caught in hands reaching high

and splash against my face

painting my skin a golder tint

washing cares away

i give them my time to spend

and lay down in their grave


Details | ABC | |

sure

since matter's distance, throw away the key, safer than sorry, know the play im stronger.

options serve value as default,  outcomes serve purpose . ending with .im stronger


Details | Sonnet | |

Fate's Seal Never Yields

Fate's Seal Never Yields 

 
A storm so dark and so very blue
fate delivers it's first misery clue
Earth and sky rapidly melt into an urn
soon, so very soon , comes my turn


Rain that spins so out of control 
 pelts down upon newly born souls 
Awakening thoughts buried deep within 
of the mortality of we lesser men 


Short lives spent in duties often delayed 
with dreams imagined but never quite made 
Regret of the coming last dawn lingering around 
like a lonely fish that is dark water bound

Ashes heaped upon a very wearisome head
Sleeping soundly in a very badly made bed

Robert J. Lindley  11/23/1977


Details | Ballad | |

What's This All About?

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


Details | Haiku | |

A Pretty White Rose

a pretty white rose
her robe is being filled with
tears from someone's eyes


Details | Pantoum | |

Abele Trees in Autumn

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


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

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


Details | Ballade | |

Pain??

Whats up with all the pain??
It never seems to change!
Babies on the street,
Friends that were once sweet.
People here and there,
Torn up everywhere.
Families torn to shreds,
But the cycle never ends.
And when the pain subsides,
Your on another ride.


Details | Ottava rima | |

VERSES VIBRANT WITH LIFE

Read me verses
vibrant with life,
not sad epitaphs;
paint me my portrait
with a lustrous light...
be a Cavaraggio, or Rembrandt,
and my replicas sell in the market
for a price that suits any wallet.


I was given a name,
and with gilt I embellished it;
gladsome to glitter and giggle,
blooming as a rose bud caressed
by the wind's soft breath;
and its seed will be transported 
far-away, to germinate by a godly temple,
and there I will meet a favorable, clement fate. 


A tombstone is the place
for the soul's eternal rest,
my bones will lie within it...these brittle bones
once covered by flesh, but its spirit
will depart to ascend from the realm of mortals;
and sleep it will...until a mighty voice will awaken it,
there with the angels of Paradise I will write my praises,
and seeing the sorrow of the living, I will act upon their behalf.


Read me verses
vibrant with life;
epistles that the New Testament's
devoted scribes wrote.
Sing me odes of the glory to come, put aside
the longest elegy, don't trifle
with my final wish, everything else is trivial;
look into the Heavens, I will smile... 
 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Rhyme | |

Lifeboat men so brave

Lifeboat men so brave............

A personal tribute to the man and woman of the R.N.L.I. 
"The Royal National Lifeboat Institute". 

Bravest men amongst the brave, 
The lifeboat volunteers. 
Precious people saving lives, 
As they've done for many years. 

Through the waves of raging water, 
Being battered by the storm. 
These precious people saving lives, 
Heroes one and all. 

Being called in all conditions, 
Whether sunshine, snow or rain. 
Never knowing what's ahead, 
Or will they see their homes again!!! 

Hurricanes and twenty foot waves, 
Smashing at your soul. 
Dedicated lifeboat men, 
With a never ending goal. 

So many crewmens lives been lost, 
Still many lives they save. 
Always putting themselves at risk, 
These lifeboat men so brave. 

To the R.N.L.I. volunteers, 
With such courage there's only few.   
May the seasons always bring you home, 
As the Lord watches over you.


Details | Dodoitsu | |

Dead and Dying Winter

A dead and dying winter
Frozen cold lifeless season
Nothing lives in the dark night
Pain, death in winter

Russell Sivey


Details | Concrete | |

The Flower

A sentinel guiding 
our way home
going through life
never making a sound
through the day
the main goal: 
to surround us in beauty
having no feelings 
telling no lies
revealing new
for grace, beauty
and blessings
spending life
replenishing  the earth
with pleasantry and honor 
when death comes
not hiding nor running
but facing the challenge
and yet always losing
when the cold is over
hope is renewed 
and new beings
of goodwill and elegance 
are born 
carrying the legacy 
of descendants
on proud shoulders
heads up high
going through this
gentle resiliency once more


Details | Free verse | |

True Expressionists

As far as my mind can perceive, that which is all I have come to believe
Stands true to my soul, and as I grow old realizing there's more to be seen.

If you share same nature in feeling, and have courage enough not conealing
Then dont be afraid, express it in ways, assessing the cards god is dealing.

Trust that god in its general name, shows creater just what it has made
Wayward cultures confused, helpless people are used in the race to place all the blame.

You are brave enough to construct, true religion yet faux claims deduct
Then you'll see there is reason for changing of season, and "coincidence" isn't just luck.

Its whats positive that which I feel, and negative hits harder than steel
I find more joy from the up, so darkness gets fluxed and spirit steers better my wheel.

How did I possibly come to conlusion? obtain vision and not just illusion?
I read people like books, so when teachers tried to look I either embraced or gave 
resolution.


Details | Rhyme | |

Three Wooden Crosses

beneath this iron maiden
lies three wooden crosses

such tragedy comes to those
with their life losses

fourteen fifteen and sixteen
even in the backseat a beauty queen

mother told them not to go
father told them to take it slow

waving goodbye off they went
riding on tires with a wheel thats bent

out comes the beer and the weed
being such fools tossing around the seeds

ran a stop sign just up the road
got smashed by a trucker hauling a load

spun the car into a lamp post
now three bodies linger around as ghost

but the beauty queen did survive
by wearing her seatbelt and thanks god shes alive



Please Talk To Your Kids
Drinking And Driving Dont' Mix
And Alway's Remember That Seatbelt


Details | Rhyme | |

Eat, Drink And Be Merry The Night Belshazzar Died

The Night Belshazzar Died…


The night when Belshazzar seen
God’s writing on the wall,
He did not know that soon
Babylon would FALL.

This king who thought he was so 
“awesome and great.”
Didn’t know that death soon
would be his fate.

“Eat, drink and be merry”
was the motto of the day.
But God had something
else to say!

The days of endulging themselves
in wickedness and sin,
Was soon to be destroyed
by their enemies within.

This life which for long
you have enjoyed,
Shall one day perish
and be destroyed.

Allow the “writing of God”
to reach your heart’s door.
It is for you that Jesus died for!

Don’t allow the enemy
to destroy your soul.
For Jesus loves you more
than you’ll ever know!


By Jim Pemberton
2008


Details | Free verse | |

Merry Christmas, Dad

Merry Christmas, Dad
     by Amy Swanson   


Dad,

    I always think of you
           every day...
              but holidays like this

can make it a little harder.

I hear the Christmas songs of cheer
     see the lights up in the square
           the busy murmurs of people
               shopping for their loved ones...

It seems almost perfect.

The tree, the lights,
      the gifts,
          the songs and plays
              joyful vacation days;

but something's missing.

The voice that rang throughout the house
      Christmas season
            singing triumphantly, beautifullly
                  "O Holy Night"

I still can't listen to that song
    without hearing
         your strong voice
               in my ears.

The hands that wiped my tears,
     wrapped my Christmas presents
           made his special "banana pudding recipe"
                left me letters from Santa.

Oh dad... how I miss you.

I know they say time heals
      and life goes on
          and all those other wonderful cliches
                 that people always tell you

simply because they don't know what else to say.


I will never forget you - my hero, my protector.

I speak of you often
    to my own little girl
         want her to know
              the grandpa she can't meet yet...

the grandpa who would love her so.

Dad, you are always in our hearts and minds,
     I never got to say thank you...
         for everything.
              for helping me to be

the woman I am today.

I look at my reflection in the mirror - I can also see you.
   I sing my songs - and I can also hear you.
       I laugh... and sometimes I can hear your laughter too.
           My daughter smiles at me... and you are in her smile.

I wish that you could know how much
     you've always meant to me
         and all the things that you have done
              to shape my life, so positively...

But all that I can say,
        is this:

Merry Christmas, Dad.

I love you.


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 | I do not know? | |

red room cage caught travel

he stood to watch
at the bar from a distant
stance from far
she took a drink
so confused 
on booze he makes his move
and he thinks
and he thinks
if the keep of the 
bar
will kindly take her keys
he will then take her home 
and her life
with the greatest of ease

didn't think a drink meant yes
didn't think i must confess
used to be insecure
now she's much less
on the bed
body red
the tears she shed
she bled she bled
she said she said no
and he wouldn't like to think so
what you're doing is evil

he parked his 
jesus ford pickup truck
on the side of the road so i'm told
pulls her near
she pulls away to escape
but to where
he didn't care
hiding in a ditch
he climbs on top
smothering cutting off
getting taking all her soft
soft features 
she cried and screamed
for it to stop

didn't know a kiss meant yes
didn't think i must confess
used to be insecure
now she's much less
laying in the dirt
numb from all the hurt
cannot fathom or believe
how much damage
 he would leave
she said she said
no and you wouldn't like to think so
no you wouldn't like to think so
she said
she said no no no
and what you're doing is evil
what you're doing is evil

sex drugs the lust
where was it born
she had to change cause
rock and roll was too much fuss
it broke and busted
crushed and flushed
away washed down
made her struggle for air
brought her down
into the water to drown
those words didn't take away
her pain
just relived rehashed that night again
didn't know a drink meant yes
didn't think i must confess
used to be insecure
now she's much less
eyes red body bled
tears shed
red red red red
she said she said
no no you wouldn't like to think so
no you wouldn't like to think so
terrible, inconcievable
unbelievable she said she said no
and what you're doing is evil
yeah what you're doing is evil 
just so you know



Details | Imagism | |

dandelion rubble

darkness traveling underground
rolling skies rumbling in the night
lighting piercing splintered hearts
trees ripped apart 
thunder with in the light
buildings tumbling down
hurried winds blowing
fraigle breezes around
dandelion rubble
next winds
declares trouble
rumbling down
bodies scattered about
in a lifeless sight


Details | Free verse | |

Alchemy

Autumn presses her lips
to the breast of Summer.
I will feed from you
‘til you are no more,
then shepherd you in death
to a crystalline shore.
The old man waits
as surely as you burn.
There is a time for everything
and in everything we return.
In light and in shadow
beyond woodlands, beyond sea,
there is no golden promise,
only alchemy.


Details | Free verse | |

Tempest

Dark fury rages through the atmosphere,
A tempest of wind, whirlwind of darkness,
An eye of calm, centered within chaos,
Forever winding, twisting and turning,
As dark cloud flash with thunder and light up with lighting.

Great clouds burst and shower down a torrent of water,
The land soaked to the core, towns destroyed.

Tempest fury, forever rising,
Great storms a smoking
Amongst the ruins of the sky,
Tornadoes form,
Earthquakes rattle the earth,
As life is sucked from the land,
Tearing crops from the field.

People die within writhing clouds,
Lightning strikes, mudslides, flooding, tornado.

Death comes in a thousand ways,
The tempest knows them all.




Details | Pastoral | |

EPILOGUE

Night chills
the aging bones-
blowing on the east wind
flurries fine and dry settle on
new graves.


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 | Free verse | |

The Haunted Door

A haunting house,
I gaze upon within the dark hollows of the hill,
Nestled in the snowy rain,
Black as night, the doorway stands,
Cobwebbed by age.

Great stone walls rise up from the sides of the hill,
Towering above the door, casting shadows upon the ground,
And dead bushes and plants ring the yard,
Filling it with musty smell of death,
But always the dusty tile path,
Leads the wooden door.

Little life lies here upon this hill,
This roofless house is haunted now,
For the stones inside there are names upon
great stones set into the mantle, dust covering the walls.

Here I sat for days on end,
Never moving towards the door,
My thoughts upon that ancient door,
Thinking of entry, opening that dusty door.

My mind made up, I walk towards the house,
Through dark night,
And blizzard winds,
Open that door and walk inside,
It slams behind,
Now I am alone,
Behind that door,
In that roofless house,
Sleeping with those long gone,
Lying in a crevice marked by a granite block.

And here I lie for eternity,
Here I rest at last,
And to heaven I now go,
To greet those from the far past.


Details | Lyric | |

Gray

Poor miserable mysterious color,
Not a dark, not a light, an in between. 
Oh the complexity of gray in laundry.
This neutral hazy excuse for a color,
like the polluted version of white,
or the immature offspring of black.
Gloomy, uninspiring, gray surely must be 
the fraternal twin of gleaming desirable silver. 

In a gray room, gray senses linger in air like overcast,
damp enough to deepen your breath, 
muggy enough to sting your eyes.
An old dead coat of thick gray dust 
dresses a bookshelf of unused knowledge,
which plays house to a gray photograph,
…A gray girl without a smile. 
Bulky furniture colors the room gray,
taking on a dead life of its own. 
Gray clouds stretch whistles of wind through an old window,
the eerie draft sways the once white sheets, 
stirring gray dust,
reminding us all, that time is forgotten.

Gray touches time. 
As age
As wisdom, like an old man’s beard, 
as power, like a dark stone pathway, 
forcefully planning our footsteps,
obnoxious, as a gray seagull 
stealing my sandwich crumbs, as well as my privacy on a sandy beach shore. 
Damn the gray seagull!
Interrupting the black and white rigidity in my ignorant world of perfection,
forcing me to see things as they truly are.

My eyes gaze up my mountain of hopes,
till I see a gray stormy sky, 
which casts out gray sounds like the surprise of thunder in a convertible with a 
broken top, 
playing Simon Says with chilling gray rain, 
dripping gray water spots of smeared ink on my morning newspaper,
smudging the lies, 
developed by gray minds of people unable to see past what they know,
more blind then the actual eyes of the blind, 
but better off then those with gray hearts, who do not know who they are. 


We are born opening our eyes to the white light of this world 
and die closing them to black darkness…
We are not born with gray minds 
but die with them,
as we cloud our abilities with gray standards and gray walls, 
un-wanting to explore any unfamiliar gray area,
until we ourselves, unknowingly turn gray.
Even in death, we never break the blind borders that confine us.
Our perception remains gray,
Always attempting to look beneath the surface,
When really 
We need to look at the same surface differently.
This world remembers us by what we did,
instead of who we were…
Sooner or later,
No one is ever known
And we all become…
nothing 
but gray.


Details | Rhyme | |

Falling Leaves

As the Sun of new Rains 
begins to rise 

To help earth bury yesters
under its guise

Rustling leaves fly
Down the trees

Singing merrily 
With the breeze 

Knowing, 
its the last journey 

Still they come 
Swaying with pride 

Thinking not of the end 
But a new life 

Proud to 
be burried and 
transformed into dust 

To nurture 
a fresh spring 
from earthen crust


Details | Free verse | |

claiming to have the poets eye.

claiming to have the poets eye,
that when upon looking at the world,
your vision goes beyond the sky.
to see the formation of clouds,
the birds singing,
the insects disappearing.
sorry, sweetheart, thats no poetry of mine.
i see the loneliness,
the cold brush of wind that cuts egos like knives,
blistering tears swept away
to a place neither of us will ever know.
because fall is far from vibrant,
how cliched to write anything about the seasons change.
the leaves are dying, 
turning to shades of brown and mustard.
the fields are not gold,
they are decay.
the trees are skeletons,
naked,
your eyes violating them with every glance.
the sidewalks dampen with sheets of rain,
that cleanse the streets of viruses,
sweeping them into the heads of schoolchildren
and grocery store workers.
humiliated pumpkins sitting on doorsteps,
their bodies stripped of nutrients and life,
hollow and empty.
does assimilation make your heart heal faster?


Details | Tanka | |

On Top Of Old Smokey {Tanka}

                                                 shaven mountain crest
                                               malta lava ashes cinders
                                                  erupt with vengeance
                                              foundation of strengthening
                                                refurbish dwelling fixture









Tribute To Hawaii


Details | Narrative | |

The Graveyard

The wind seemed colder that December day,
as I walked among the graves marked with
marble so gray.
Some had a story carved for all to see,
while others were just marked, Rest In 
Peace.
Pictures of the deceased, were on a few,
as I looked a little closer,
to see how many I knew.
Then in the distance, 
I saw a crowd,
another loved one to be buried,
then my head I bowed.
Old graves stood out,
their markers so tall,
darker than most,
like shadows at nightfall.
Sad to think, some had to die so young,
but way back then, not much could be done.
Strange it may seem,
to visit the dead,
but facinating to me,
on the life they led.


Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Halloween

Once, on a night so dark that even the owl could not see,
There came to be,
An evil entity.

It was so evil in fact,
That not even the night could hold it back.

The night tried and tried it did,
But entrance to the land was finally bid.

So evil romped and stomped across the place, 
And it would not be erased.

The people fought and battled,
But it continued to eat the cattle.

It consumed the stock and the place,
The people had not the time to pace.

Now the evils belly was filled,
And the valley of Hallowed Een was tilled.

This is the story we all celebrate,
On October 31, when open is the gate.


Details | Ballad | |

LIKE SPRING

There were these dreams we dreamt and so many stars wished upon.
In the time our lives were happy and life meant everything.
When you, my sweet love, woke beside me each and every dawn!
Ah, when all was right with the world and the grass smelled like spring.

For there was this life we lived we thought would always live on.
Still we knew what death was--and how it could touch everything.
But my own never thought yours could die...until it was gone!
And until nothing was left...but the grass that smelled like spring.

Now the stars are wistless orbs...but I must continue on.
Through the haze of pointless days that has buried everything.
For there is this place I must visit...each and every dawn!
Where you sleep, my sweet love, and the grass always smells like spring.


Details | Couplet | |

Wisdom Of The Last Leaf

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




Details | I do not know? | |

Rain and Thunder

You know what really makes me wonder
When I hear the rain and thunder
Calling me from such a distance
Just to touch me for that instance..
Is the purpose just to cleans me
Or a message that its sending
beneath the layer that's pretending
To lay claim upon my ending..
So when it comes I take my stand
And reach up with my strongest hand
So I can see beyond my sight
what sets me free from day and night..
Baptized by an ancient story
I will bathe in all his glory
And when I rest just 6 feet under
I will still hear rain and thunder..


Details | Free verse | |

Shoshone Moons

I am Whispering Elk,
Shoshone.
 
The land
grows dark with white men
like so many ants.
 
It is time
of green corn moon.
 
Their tribe grows: blue knives,
buffalo men, yellow hairs.
 
They speak many tongues,
break words.
 
Yellow corn moon
fills bellies.
 
They still come.
 
Days grow less
like buffalo.
 
We see blood
on brown corn moon
looking through trees.
 
Their tribes grow.
 
I am Whispering Elk,
Shoshone.
 
Our moons
grow few.  


Details | Free verse | |

Winter's Bending

Winter, how she bends
And summer, she sends a sky
Over the hedge to kill 
The last remaining frost-speckle
Of cold, ice branches,
Dead for a season but not next.  
This is my autobiography
Written in reverse.  The death of 
Happiness, which is 
Sadness in reverse.  Before the sunning
Of faces and places
There will be familiar memory traces
Of swimming and singing
And taking tea with me under the veranda tree.  
This is the death of winter
And the oncoming sun is too much for me to bear
So I shrink back to the season of snow
And rest with icicles, my friends who melt 
Into other seasons to be absorbed
By green.


Details | Haiku | |

What's Your Hurry

                                                   tropical retreat
                                         bestowed hurricane sirens
                                                  islanders scurry












Tribute To
Hurricane Victims


Details | Free verse | |

Winter

Icy crysals floating down;
So innocent, so pure.
Covering the cold barren ground
With a layer of frozen elegance
And false comfort.
Concealing the lifelessness,
Dusting the comatose trees
With an illusion of vitality.
Branches jut out at the sky,
Clawing, struggling
For that last bit of warmth.
Innocent little flakes descend,
Enveloping the sickly talons
Under the smothering blanket.
Primped and powdered corpses,
Stiff and dead
But beautiful.
Icy crystals floating down;
So innocent, so pure.


Details | I do not know? | |

seasons of time

the tree shivers as
the rain drops fall
the  leaves shimmer
and not a drop of pain is exchanged
the leaves began to color
a sight to  see
so beautiful to me
then the leaves wither and drop and mother earth is 
covered with a crop of white snow bringing   joy                 
to a child,s heart

soon spring returns
children leave their winter dins
and began to run
and play and i hear a voice say that,s the way
it,s suppose to be soon summer arrives
sunny flowers in bloom
all of winter,s dark gloom gone
the seasons change, all are the same
yet different,seasons in a name 
the voice tells me that,s how
it is suppose to be
   


Details | Free verse | |

To Everything a Season

She is exposed,
the last of her finery
released by a cold snap,
leaves in a cluster blown
by a winter born breeze
stirring in the shadows

Paying homage, she bows
fairly kneeling before 
the approaching winter solstice, 
and flushed with victory, 
though seemingly defeated, 
begins to weep

For she knows
her restoration lies
in the transient spring 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Way of Wind and Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaf,
You fell from the sky;
I watch you
Lightly flutter by.

The wind will
Not stop pest'ring me;
My bones are
Chilled as you're set free.

Your sisters
'Neath feet crumble fast;
People crunch
Them while walking past.

The trees are
Flaming, without doubt;
The wind takes
You-- your fire's blown out.


Details | Haiku | |

The Sky Is In Flame

The sky is in flame
cracking the edge of our life, 
no sign of laughter


Details | Tanka | |

Rebuilding America { Tanka}

                                                              Coastal area
                                               massive under ground currents
                                                          wave of destruction
                                                   Solid foundation of strength
                                                 refurbished  levee's proclaim
                    



                                                        
In Loving Memory 
Of Victims
From Katrinia



Also Big Thanks To
Sir Joseph Spence Again


Details | Quatrain | |

The Darkest Halloween

Under cloak of a midnight sky,
on Halloween, the moon was full.
An eerie sight there caught my eye,
I viewed his body being pulled.

The dirt unearthed was moist and fresh,
once the grave where he'd been placed;
a man of forty, so I'd guessed,
I could, just barely, see his face.

When I moved in closer still,
five tombstones soon surrounded me,
and chanting in the night air filled,
the prophesies of mystery.

On this day, so prophesied,
chanting of a thousand witches,
would raise the dead from all the tombs,
all the morgues, and crypts and ditches.

At the stroke of twelve, or so,
while stirring fast, strange witches brew,
their voices filled the midnight hour,
and chanted 'til the stroke of two.

Potions, cauldrons, signs of death,
raised my hair, as I held my breath.
"Ravens, Banshees, owls and trolls,
raise the bones of forty souls."

Witches moved to form an arc,
and in the center placed the man,
then dripped the blood of forty larks,
that severed both his lifeless hands.

When the chanting nearly ceased,
his hands began to fly like bats,
and to the air were doves released,
soon followed by a hundred cats.

Beyond fear, I was a wreck,
I told my feet to pick up steam,
but one hand grabbed me 'round the neck,
on this, the darkest, Halloween.

So, next time, as you walk alone,
in the dark, on a moonlit night,
remember the rest of his bones,
are out there to fill you with fright.

The witches, "sign of the five,"
are points of a star bringing death,
at this moment you're still alive,
while I am still catching my breath.

Each Halloween, at midnight,
his body still roams, that's no joke.
His hands are still able to fly,
and next time they'll fly at your throat.


Details | I do not know? | |

a gift , a curse

the sun beams its beautiful warm rays down onto us . ask nearly
anyone, what their favorite weather is , sunny would be the answer.
every plant , animal and human needs the sun ... and enjoys it so.
strange how something so crucial , can also cause cancer .

the wind feels fantastic , on a sunny day . nothing feels better
than a much needed breeze , while catching rays , lying on a beach towel .
cruising the boulevard , hair blowing in the wind . buildings crumbling
over into the streets , homes losing their structure ...a terrifying howl .

enjoying a brisk drive through the countryside . gorgeous , natural
landscaping , outlining the rural roads . rain falling , rainbows, stunning hues,
a soft wind . water feeds the plant life , drenching the soil . the blacktop
becomes slick , tires slide .... horrible crunching , screams ... death ensues .

drink in hand , walking after a quiet rain , taking advantage of the fresh air.
darkness begins to fall over the sky . feelings of being watched , haunt her
imagination . a short cut , through an alley , proves fatal . two men
approach ...demanding money . the brutal attack ... she could not deter.

the most natural thing in the world , some would say . two warm bodies
entwined , kissing , caressing , expressing deep desires , anything to please.
seamingly melting in each others arms , leaves them wanting more . at 
the time , never considering , death from a venereal disease .





Details | Rhyme | |

Harpsichord On A Stormy Night

A wild pagan, the wind, a spectral masseuse,
  Blunt cudgel and claw dipped in liquid frost,
To corrupt and ravage the pit head columns,
  As black trees threshed and leaves were tossed;
Slapped against satanic steel mill backdrops,
  Thrust over crusty cracked fissures of rock,
The rattling rain gunned down the mountains,
  Scattered the sallow, forsaken flock.
In the forks and tines of lightning stabbing
  To bomb the moon and shivering stars,
Ivories tickled by ozone and aftershock
  Shrilled in a sky of splitting white scars;
The harpsichord played on a stormy night,
  A melody wracked and cracked with disease,
Jagged enough to split open the heart,
  For nothing and no one were sat at the keys…


Details | I do not know? | |

Queen Earth

She peers  happily at Gods’ little creature
Mocks the poor, caged cricket
With crooked wings

Queen Earth grins in maniacal fashion
Teasing, torturing nature in whole hearted greed

She dance with the blue mockingbird
Killing the song within


She crushes the lowly ants 
She consume the belly of a snake

Wicked is her name
She inhales the world
And destroys its’ every essence

She freezes the laughing lion
With hate and disregard
She disrespects every life
Upon the earth
Even her own


Details | I do not know? | |

Hurricane Katrina's Unavoided Heeds !

Rain drops splashed hard against my face...
Winds swirled about in many a place.Roofs
and tree tops flew off through out the
air...All damaged property was spread all
about,and everywhere.After hurricane
Katrina-FEMA fell asleep at the wheel..They
were slow in helping people to rebuild and
to heal!Those in charge were too slow to
act...Fema was too slow to make contact and
react!How can we put faith in people who
are left in charge?Government officials are
like wolves set loose in a chicken coop...
Oh so careless and loose at large!Trailers
are needed to be placed on land...Supposed
by God loving people,don't seem to want to
lend a realty lending hand!Katrina could 
have been avoided...If expert's warnings had
been so heeded,all loss of life and money
would have been voided and not needed!
01-11-2006'.



Details | I do not know? | |

Homecoming...

We are each like snowflakes that have fallen from the sky, each one has fallen at 
different times and none are just alike... they are all as unique and special in thier own
way. 

As snowflake each falls to the ground some may stay for a while, some evaporate in 
the wake of the morning sun. 

Some snowflakes may get washed away by rain…some never even make it to the ground. 
Each one of us are engulfed by what seems to be an endless journey here on earth 
that will some someday, eventually will lead us all back home. No not one of us are alike, 
each as different as those snowflakes that fall from the sky. 


For just like the snowflakes that are here on earth for a short time? We too will have a 
final day here on earth very soon. 

When Angels will descend down from the heavens above and come to take us each back 
home.For just like those snowflakes that fell to the  ground and return to the sky that no one 
ever sees.

You too will be taken up to the Pearly White Gates by the Angels with their 
beautiful white gossamer wings... they will then rap you up in a purple robe...and place 
upon your head a gold crown to wear. 

Then the stars in the sky above will start to dance and dazzle… for those to see 
who were left behind on earth…and trumpets will sound as the Angles will 
sing songs of joy and great praise! They will all rejoice with cries of rapture that you 
have return home to stay! 

But up there in heaven there was no gold, silver or diamond paved roads for you to walk 
upon only the soft clouds from where we all come from… but there was a gentle kiss 
from our Father whom sat above in the heavens on high...as he spoke into 
your ear and gave you a hug... and as he said to you in a soft voice, "Welcome 
my lost snowflake, welcome back home."


Copyright © 2006 Jay Anderson-Taylor


Details | Elegy | |

Springtime Spell


…And there’s a naked lady
On a rocky shoreline, I see

Her beauty, a pinkish smile
As I, the lover, pass her by

The jolly rhythm of the sea
Has a great resounding plea

The rain will not fall today
Though, the sky’s real gray

Sweet laughter in the wind
Hers touches my worn skin

I plead thee, O careless tare
O let you not disrespect her

For she, truly, reminds me
Of my ever dearest fantasy

Every time her beauty I see
Whilst I drink my morn tea

 


Details | Rhyme | |

Tsunami

You think you’ve got problems
So huge and so great
But then something happens
And you realise its not to late
It puts your problems in perspective
They are minor compared to others
A whole family suddenly wiped out
A sea full of sisters and brothers
The normally serene ocean
The normally peaceful beach
Ferocious sea sucked back in anger
And pounced on those in reach
Throwing its waved high
Hauling its water ahead
A path of mass destruction
A sea of loved ones dead
A woman kneels and weeps
A loved one floating by
The people united in their grief 
A sea of desolation they cry
The ocean is their trade
The ocean was their friend
Their worst enemy it became
With such a tragic end


Details | Monorhyme | |

There's Something About Ma Ma's Christmas Tree

There's something about Ma Ma's Christmas tree
ornaments tinsel blinking lights and popcorn strewn
about  by her grandchildren's  little hands to plainly see
the angel nestled on top blessing for all who comes passes she
fresh scent of pine lingering about ticking our noses like a soft country breeze
presents big and small stacked upon each other for her big family
bows falling from the gifts tightly wrapped  only by she
needles upon the skirt sticking to our hands and our little knees
Christmas bulbs reflecting  off our silly little faces ever so jolly
Mama taking snap shots of us all standing in front of her six foot tree
but nothing was more beautiful that could be given to she
Except for my heart who I miss giving to Ma Ma who always stood by me






RIP MAMA  {1934 - 2005}
Love Ya And Miss Ya


Details | Verse | |

Falling Leaves

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


Details | I do not know? | |

All Things Must Pass

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

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

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

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


Details | I do not know? | |

Full Moon Beach

The pale lace of ocean foam
Breathes on moonlight shore,
Pearl clouds like soft dice are cast
On night sky’s black floor.

Wind rustles and bends the palms
To sea’s lullabies—
Night birds cry out like children
As summer now dies.

Yet, here summer never parts—
Always lingers green—
The smell of ripe mangoes stay—
Sunsets are gold sheen.

We linger still in unreal
Worlds and hesitate—
Seasons call us back somehow
To fulfill our fate.

Ocean moon is full this night—
We heed the call of waves—
Water brings us back to life—
The earth shall mark our graves.


Details | Verse | |

Seasons

Spring:

Genesis shod the tapestry splendour
  wrapped global in the skin of creation,
derma-terraformed rock and flora,
  beauteous beast, tempered landscape foundation.
Stirrings in the forge of tropics,
  in sea of saline and deep blue birth,
singular cells of life evolution
  and microbes ruled the earth.

Summer:

Compressed fossil fuels in strata of bedrock,
  mined and burned for industrial vocation,
layers of sky eaten voraciously,
  ozone consumed by the tech generation.
Cracks on the foetus of the future,
  veined and wormed then rent asunder,
cancer of science multiple thieved
  of nature’s intricate thunder.

Autumn:

Implacable meltdown and gradual flooding
  forbidding the last gasp land reclamation
in the dust blinded eye of a putrid sun
  the creep of an ice-age in regeneration.
Drowning in the mouth of Neptune,
  seas stood still, solidified,
and all of life surrendered ghosts,
  by our own hands, and died.

Winter:

Monochrome shadows bleeding, engulfing,
  warped the grey surface of night domination,
stillness and silence the reigning monarchs
  of most barren realms in frozen stagnation.
Yet stirrings beneath the vault of winter
  in endless seas of ice-tombed birth
writhed the resilient sub-zero virus
  and microbes ruled the earth.


Details | Free verse | |

It's 3:00 P.M.

the land is now in spring, where 
beautiful flowers and wild tares 
grow, side by side; it’s 3:00 p.m.

when my spirits stopped 
wandering…and listens to the echoes 
of immortalities

as the passing wind sighs
between the past and the future
between the heaven and the earth

thou, I was not there, when 
the land
spilled out and died, ‘cos of hatred 

and greediness 
and self ambition; but
i am here, right now

lying, silently, with a cul-de-sac 
as my pillow, on this grassy field
thanking them…and thinking…

what life would be, without them--- 
the fallen whisperers, who gave themselves
for us, to breathe this afternoon air?


   



Details | Rhyme | |

The Curse

Those that take
And never give
A long life
They will live

But to their spawn
They place a curse
That eats all
That was first

Crops will fail
Live stock dead
Plague unleashed
For what is said

This the curse 
That they made
The day they took
And never gave 


Details | I do not know? | |

Almost There

I hear a noise so soft and yet so loud
the far-flung cries of the warring proud
i guess i should have stayed inside
but couldn't resist that crowd

too many slain and yet here comes more pain
what's inside my mind must be said, but i refrain
another body on the ground
laying still and makes no sound
guess the proud here still remain

but just over the hill past the kill
i can see finality of this normal life
bring me one step closer and bring the knife
tomorrow comes on roaring wings and here i am laying still

almost there I swear
can't be too much longer
they say each wound each cut makes you stronger
but for strength of will i find that no one can really care

inside a mind another time
nobody remembers the dying young
i came so bold through the cold
and look at what i've done

too many lives and mourning wives
can't recall the reason just all the lies
and here I lay until that day
when all seasons are through
when all seasons are through

no matter what they say
here i'll stand and here i'll stay
somewhere between here and never
the hopeful lies cannot be true
when all seasons are through


Details | Prose Poetry | |

DEATH IN THE MORNING

The wood pigeon awoke on her roosting perch,fluttered with a nervous jerk;warily 
searching for sustenance,above the peregrine made a fateful entrance.The 
winter harsh and icy cold,driven far from its familiar fold,seeking food further 
afield to an urban garden that might increase its yield.Under a biting wintry sky 
the short tailed falcon hovered high,an efficient killer from above,more than a 
match for pigeon or dove.Taking its chosen meal in flight,swooping sudden from 
a great height,the momentum imprinting our window pane,her throat slashed 
she soon was slain.Talons sunk deep into the pigeons chest this finicky eater 
pecked at head and breast.The lawn strewn leavings of a ravenous raptor,as 
nature's journal leafs another chapter.