BURYING BRAIDED DESPAIR
AND RESURRECTING ASCENDING HOPE
Last night’s dream,
Was as if that sneaking nightmare, despair;
Always teasing the unaware mind
In a wandering, flowing stream:-
Rising today, I took strands of despair,
And braided them into hope-plaits;
I then took those plaits and buried them:
Tears watering their graves:-
Hope budded and blossomed,
As petals of audacious faith glistened:-
And in the bright sunshine of the new dawn’s dawning,
Meadows of forget-me-not also bloomed; and in fields of ourstory,
Butterflies feasted on encouraging truth, rather than lying history;
Cocooning hope now hangs on my mind’s branches of time:-
She veils her face and laughs
never saying from where she came
The house murmurs and breathes
and she squeezes next to me.
at my desk
She won’t leave my space
until I let her speak
and we shoulder each other
watching words dance on page.
a quiet morning
I ask her if we’ve met and where
and she shrugs her shoulder.
She presses her finger on my lips
and disappears before I can say more.
shaped
(off-sonnet form)
Mike Bayles
Get Well Card from a Writers’ Group to a Friend in a Physical Rehab Unit
What is important is what we lay on the table.
Poems and stories we write find new life
on the third floor of the library in Muscatine.
We read our works, listen and make suggestions.
We argue and laugh, but we’re just trying to help
every writer make their work better.
each night
We are working or retired, poets and novelists
sharing our lives and points of view. We have
driven highways and city streets to be there.
Every third Tuesday of the month we sit at the table.
in quiet skies
You are the eldest, many books written
and every meeting we look to you.
We look for revelations and for how
the pieces speak to us. Works shared
bring us together.
a shining star
*Braided Haibun Form
She exudes a Mona Lisa like mystique
With a beauty beguiled by Medusa's locks
There is no smile of which to speak
That image the imagination can't block
She has closed the windows to her soul
With an expression of a broken heart
Yet she remains calm and in control
No tears of sorrow does she impart
Will she ever find love again
A sweet caress, or tender kiss
Or is it all just in vain
To find a love to give her bliss
I only wish I knew her name
So I could sing her a serenade
I'll call her Eva just the same
The beautiful girl with lovely braids.
--
8/4/17
I want to break down and talk to you
Now I truly know what it means to love you
I just wish I didn't have to go through this
to figure it out
but I know I can't make this all about you
I need to love Jehovah like I love you
When I feel I need to run to someone
I need to run to him
I'm learning
I know where everything started to go wrong
and it was way before you
It just kept going in a downward spiral
Three strands are stronger than only two
Right now I still stand as only one
I need to work on the second
before I work on the third
Entwined finger roots
cracking pain in concrete threads
Slow and quiet strength.
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