Best Capsuled Poems

I opened up the daily yesterday
and turned to the obituary page.
A friend of mine looked back at me from there.
He'd died at ninety years and one of age.

I cried out with surprise and wondering.
How can this world survive if he is gone?
Capsuled was his life...

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Seeds are nature's progeny en-capsuled.
Life's germ in suspended animation,
Awaiting the trigger to grow, scheduled
By warmth, rain, season to spark gestation.
Tiny seed has script to create tall trees
Using DNA code coiled in germ cells.
Shoots sent skyward, roots down, through the soil squeeze
To play out the process,...

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The emotions of my soul remain 
in memories capsuled in time
From that very first moment
on a pure-white winter's day

A fallen stardust scattered
from birth-silk sky upon 
moon-kissed shores

Showering peasant nights
and hope-filled dreams
with a heart holding manna 
so supple and clean.

Destiny drew her a map to ...

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In an old briefcase
capsuled for years in a corner
of the shed, I found a rolled up wad
of poems, stalled, still looking 
for something to say, frozen 
in a futile gasp for air. 
I should have thrown 
them away. 

There was also an old plane ticket,
a...

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"The Elemental’s Confession as a Peace Offering"



In the moment I lost my head
my hands tied without voice 
I wasn’t crucified

I was looking for some kind of 
release from the solitary confines
of a confessional habit that was 
reclaiming an unknown peace
bare legged, yet not running 
with...

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Two thousand feet in the belly of the earth
So near the opulence of golden ore
And so far the poor man's dream of worth
From the falling sweat of toil
Around the Chilean house
The wringing hands toll in silent prayer
This early subterranean image rise
Before the stark and brimming...

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Actually, I do not know why I write a poem
I started at a very early age and continued,
When I was very young, I loved to show-em
In adolescence I wrote when in a grim mood.

Discovering love, poems became rather natural
My output of sonnets was somewhat prolific,
As...

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Rhapsody of rainbow morphs to morose mélange
Bleeding colors bleached from the twilight cloud 
Rainstorm daubs as blemish on the broken heart
The shades of grey paint the frayed linen of love.

Requiem of roses resonates in melancholic medley
Petals pine for dripping tear drops of mourning dew 
Desiccate...

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See me fast, feel me low, watch me strike
as I feel myself bottom blend slow into an aqeous blood slumber 
silk circulating all rotten terms as I fornunicate
the manicial social countermeasures I must employ
each day here on this Earth to stay unstillborn;vertical,
co-conscious and ever present,...

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Most people think of creative writing, as belonging almost exclusively to the genre of the world, of fictional writing. When in fact any writing involving both skill and imagination.  Might loosely fit into its classification.  Take magazine and especially newspaper publications.  The...

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The music of my youth: a capsuled find,
a dusty box of discs, a time machine.
A foolish younger self and I convene,
camped in a cobwebbed corner to unwind
the lilting, haunting tunes which fresh remind
that pastures parched and brown have turned to green.
The music of my youth…

Though...

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Ugly people
We living in a world with a hole in it
We living life ugly
But we make the world go round 

Would you think I was hopeless
If I led you astray with a song
Whom else are you willing to cope with
I’ve gone missing within your arms

The...

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The green hills are drinking
the clouds,
keep pouring out
the scented breath.

In capsuled hour the wind was its own rival.
A slant on confessional suicide:
the charm obliterates the solitude.

A gray shower of thoughts outside the window,
I forget, I remember in coyness
my sparks are humming.

The plundered land
by advancing columns...

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Seems as though the eternal
Sands of time
Have seized to call my name.
Since whispers have halted
And bells have rung
The clock have malfunctioned.
I wake to the dream and 
Live at once with
Time not of the essence.
Barred no longer within
A cell in a cell
And capsuled nearly free.
I cannot...

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To smell the fresh bloomed flower 
within this tangled mess 
of what was once a garden lush 
thriving on happiness 

I'd have to chop through brambles deep 
that reach out to snarl and scratch 
Crawl over dry weeds and choking vines 
to reveal a life...

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