Introspection August Poems

Fall 
Whether 
broken— there
our veins are joint;
by leaves that saturate the ground with new

beauty that I walk through cracking myself
on gems, but soft—
Whether the
weather
breaks....

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Your colour, Green
You are a Belter
Sunny side up 
A helter-skelter 
Of emotions

My soul recharged
From brighter skies 
Bubble of joy
From the prickly lies
Of the world

Our hearts...

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Blow
for now
your heat on
rippling leaves;
unjaded, they don't drop... the pressure snarls 

in veins on leafy cheek's different masks
(too many airs)
color shy—
fallen
raked...

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Unmet expectations damage the dormant psyche,
unkept promises smother the rays of fading hope, 
unkind words tear the lattice of the mangled mind,
life then turns into...

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Reflections of gentle leaves, dew drenched
Feelings flowing through the oaks, trees strong
Like the lasting tears of a quiet night, stars glistening
Same as yesterday’s rain –...

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If you think July is bad,
Perhaps you have forgot.
There’s no relief in August.
It’s really just as hot.

Even if you like the heat,
There’s just no celebration.
Unless...

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Looking back, one thing comes clean-glass clear
you were always there for me subduing every fear.

I tried to do my duty, be a husband strong and...

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Haiku For August Wilson

Piano...Fences...
Symbolic allegory:
The poetry of prose...

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Before it starts, I know the end,
But my heart still makes me go.
Into the depths of the throbbing dark,
Where strobes flash and minds run slow....

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A black bird meandering through some really dark cloud 
Soft Wind blew through the surface of the earth.. 
Soft hearted I felt, introspective of the...

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I feel the chill of the Birth Month
that kills the season of the drop top meanders in firefly fields,
rhythmic beating of bugs against flesh,
soaking golds...

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I saw people walking through the streets,
As cars lazily rolled down the one lane road.
Pairs holding hands, mothers and sons,
Suited men retiring after a hard...

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I believe that poetry is and of is was were have has been of as one pretenses a 
poetic practical pompous, pro  (p) ransomedramatical...

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If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the...

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Intact I am math, 

but in a blast I run fast-

somewhere above the tree line
I am seen as fine, 

but inside I am tried.


The weather...

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