Best From Poems

Inspired by Andrew Wyeth Watercolor Painting -- Wind From the Sea, 1947




Standing in the old house
A strange mixture of feelings erupt within me
My roommates Depression, Loneliness, and Hopelessness
Greet me with strangling arms and leering grins
I don’t fight them anymore – somehow they are a part...

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A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue, 
Momentarily ignited by stray 
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives...

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To appreciate our planet;
begin with its snowcapped mountains,
where sunbeams morph crystals of ice
into gems of glistening light.

Witness white clouds traverse the skies
floating on a vista of blue,
or a setting sun smear scarlet
onto puffs of marshmallow white.

See jungles at its equator
create a sash of vibrant green,
and...

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The Guardian
		Melodic lullabies echo	
		As heart strings strum secret chords
		As transcendental images appear
		Stargazers are lost for words
		Kaleidoscopic Illuminations
		Paint the sky in optimistic light
		Hope descends in serene silence
		Floating through shadows of the night
		Dancing spirits move to dulcet tunes
		Shadows can be seen against the moon
		Oh Redeemer do you...

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Tears for a Mother
Fears for a Father gone
Fate deals an unfair hand
The door to youthful joy closing
on adolescent shoulders imposing
grown up responsibilities instead

Eyes sadly deprived 
See not the panorama
of pursuing cloud shapes
that conceal a frivolous Sun
playing hide and seek behind
Nor do they see the mischievous...

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Take my heart and carry me
to where all dreams are born.
Into loves arms, oh such a place
that's always safe and warm.
Away from such deceitful lairs
where blackened virtues swarm.
into a light where peace must shine
and grants us pardon from a storm.

High above the mountain tops
or low...

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After the end of a long hot day
At the end of my rope  with nerves all frayed
I sat on the porch to rest a spell
As the sun slipped  slowly behind the hill

Calmed by the lingering after glow
I watched the summer night unfold
 
Crimson...

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In sandy dunes on my back I lie
Dreaming of warm beaches, blue sky
And a girl named Lorelei
On memories I fly 
War seen from on high
I vow to try
Not to cry
As I
Die



Written November 5, 2019
For the Rhyming Nonet contest....

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Her trembling twilight 
dims with streaking purple tears
bruised by youthful years of bleeding pain
hurting but never hugged --
locked in the arms of atmosphere’s apathy
that smeared with fiendish fingers
a contusing plum palette
across any hope in her godforsaken horizon ~

this sorrowful songbird 
who sings with the shattered...

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Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that...

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In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope
           (The Solemn Prayer)

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my...

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My words were rewritten until they became yours
As grammar and syntax perfected your thoughts
Pages lined with highlighters polished me to extinction 

I wanted to resist all of those good intentions
Yet I knew you wanted your best words for me
You weren't listening so you couldn't hear...

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They told me you cried on the day I died
A sob splintering through a silent dome
Your sorrow a shroud on the catacomb
As I laid where birds no longer replied
Now I watch as you slowly search the beach
For those rare shells edged in liminal blue
I would...

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i am no longer
lost in the labyrinth
of your twisted mentality

i kiss the lips of freedom

once you drove
me insane in the brain
now stubborn stains wash away

i will never bleed again

as i liberate my mind
from your shackles of sorrow
my suppressed spirit soars

watch me fly

i collect every
shattered shard...

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I come to the garden along, while the dew is still fresh
on the meadows. Early in the morning do the bird's sing
praises of roses and peddles.  I cry, because there is no
refuge finally from the pain.  
    Yet long ago,...

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