Son Dizain Poems

The triad assumes deep significance,
the reality of each vibration,
subject, object and the means for parlance;
inward and outward breath plus cessation.
Creation, preservation, destruction,
threefold function of Holy...

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Each lifetron within, sings its own song,
dancing with carefree abandon and glee.
The rhythm divine taking all along,
moment to moment in joyful entrée,
love in love with...

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Sue’s tears of joy fell like torrential rain,
as she embraced him at the train station.
Her only son had just returned from Spain,
she was overcome with...

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When I hurt my finger, cried out in pain,
We were chopping wood taking it in turns,
father said “ Old saying - no pain, no gain!”
“Think...

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Here is a symbol of my lasting love, 
no longer shall you ever thirst again. 
For I sent my only Son, from above, 
and by...

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Why did this happen; how can I survive		
A son should never die before his mum		
One day so alive; next day you have died	
Forty nine years...

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In comes the word of life undone
That tragedy struck and bereaved me so
Could it be true that you left me my son
With no word of...

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Yes, I am talking to you predator
Always looking for an innocent child
Someone’s much loved precious son or daughter
With your practiced charms you have them beguiled
And...

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I can’t wake up from this nightmare we've made
  from love, distrust and our desperate son—
    the loneliest creature; broken homemade....

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Life started from sadness, a conceivable future blight;
a flashing lightening gave indication a storm formed,
challenging days lacked their needed warmth and light,
to whom I ran...

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Middle-aged woman puffs a cigarette  
right outside the grocery store entrance.
Her dark eyes fall from mine while beads of sweat
trench above furrowed brow. “Spare...

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When The Torch Came In June--In Memory of my husband: 
            Robert A. (Bobby)...

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In storybooks, my son and I chase dreams
to magical wonderlands near and far.
Catching rainbows on a golden sun beam,
we stop to wish upon a shooting...

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BY MINE DAYS CONVEYED

as i struggle over the contours of continuation
i have not lost the capacity for compassion
i sail through stomrs with a temperment fair
acknowledging...

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DEAR ABBY:

I’d never considered killing myself,
Until I backed over my little boy.
I know I should think about mental help;
I break down when I see his...

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