Listen to her death certificate’
Who’d fought for life’s duplicate
“Severe Anorexia
Secondary to status asthmaticus”.
Oh! How it had rung worse than Amnesia
And had meant some asthmatic curse.
Several struggle -out “God, Receive my soul’’
As death bell was about to toll
I, to the hilt, a struck-dumb spectator
For the longest seconds, tongue-tied commentator
Soon, rapidly pondering not why she should expire
But why villainous terminator should soon acquire…
At conspiratorial 9:25 pm
Breathing becoming lame,
A kick-started rigor- mortis locking her jaw,
My father striving to restrain a law
My own hand withdrawing from a once-banging heart,
Never wanting a second nearing of what should be soundless.
A new contentment with a mentally arranged cart
That should to a fridge make it noiseless…
A resuming night nurse in a provocative see-through,
Richly delivering part of what Irene had said as true..
A hospital of some ineptitude
For losses borne with fortitude.
On this day, twenty- four years you left
Rock of ages for me cleft.
MY CLASS POEMS OF 1997 GOD HAVE BLESS ME
GOD HAS BLESSED ME TO BE THE BEST POSSIBLE PERSON I CAN
NO MATTER HOW GOOD I AM I KNOW GOD WILL STRENGTHEN ME
TO BECOME A BETTER PERSON.
GOD HAVE BLESS ME TO BUILD ON THE WORK OF YESTERDAY
WHICH WILL LEAD ME INTO THE REWARDS OF TOMORROW
GOD HAVE BLESS ME TO FEED MY MIND: KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM'S
MY BODY: STRENGTH, AND MY SPIRIT: FAITH AND MY HEART: DESIRE
GOD HAVE BLESS ME TO REACH NEW GOALS,
NEW CHALLENGES AND NEW WAYS TO REACH OTHER
GOD HAVE BLESS ME TO LISTEN TO THE SPIRIT WHO LEADS
ME ON WARD IN SEARCH OF MY DREAMS.
TODAY GOD BLESSES ME TO ACCOMPLISH MY GOALS.
MR. JERRY"BIG COOL PAPA" WELLS
AUTHOR
Hale-Bopp’s fly-by
midnight stroll St. Simons beach …
lovers gently kiss
A veil of darkness
Fallen on the town
There's a monster here
A sweet, innocent life cut down.
One so free who knew no fear
Why be afraid
With love so constantly near?
For love is what he was
Helping others, always giving.
Now, selfish, twisted, murderous ways
Means our "Little Mark" is no longer living
Among us with his smile so sweet
But will spend eternity's days
At the Father's feet.
A single rose was silenced
Floriated chorales resound in Kensington
For Mr. Brian Strand's:
Spaces
No more tears for that which has departed
No endings for that which has not started
The knife is in the skin, yet no bleeding
Why shed tears? When tears we are not needing
Drinking her bath water tasting so pure
Using your vice, as her bait and her lure
Drugs not taken, is the rapture of death
In evry tear, evry laugh, evry breath
No passions to give, no feeling to show
Bottled up emotions, never let go
A pound of flesh for a trip to heaven
No more tears, since nineteen ninety seven
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