Brother Free Verse Poems

Amidst thy grassy sea,
Stands a lone cottonwood tree.

A man of red–
His many feathers
Scatter like dust–
Away in the wind.

Amidst thy cottonwood tree,
Lies a man who once...

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Sprained My Heart
I’ll kiss your image that sleeps in my memory
That’s what I’ll do and ponder a spell 
You left me with that wound inside...

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Night,
Ageless and porous,
Sang screeches of fireflies of
Crescendo-diminuendo sparks.
What hour?
In the midst of the hustles, I lost my hoursight
Different, tonight, is my eyesight, seeing even
Through the...

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When fate grows fierce, when fortune breaks its chain,
When heaven withdraws and earth begins to sway,
When anguish grips you with unyielding strain,
Expect no help, no...

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I stood on the isle, winds tearing the veil,
When the Lamb broke seals and Time grew pale—
First came the White, a conqueror proud,
With bow unbent...

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A tribute to Malcolm 
Malcolm Jamal Warner 
Was his name 
Heaven sure did gain 
An angel on earth 
Now he's  up in the skywatching...

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I write,
because if I do not write,
I fear I have never been.
I write,
because my body no longer fits
except on the page.

my poetry is not recited.
it...

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The Cheese Man can’t tell you ate his brother. 
So relax. 
He will be here soon. 
He is real. 

A big block of cheese. 
Turns...

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Grandma worked for the salvation army, sorting clothes.
she was part of a class called the working poor.
On occasion she'd take us shopping downtown 
this was...

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My brother and I,
while choosing a name for my nephew,
tried hard to think of something unique—
something with variety and charm.
“Tractor” was the first choice,
then came...

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Why read Walt Whitman?
Because he writes majestic poems,
Luminous for who has a heart wounded by life,
Because he loves America and its men,*
That he writes that...

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SIBLING REMEMBRANCES*
In the warm, sunlit corners of our childhood
where laughter spills like marbles across the floor,
I hear the echoes of our shared secrets,
each whispered promise...

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We Bleed Red
If I were a king or queen you would notice me, and respect me no matter my race.  If I had riches...

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It was all about a grim,
Foggy, smoggy, old Thursday night
In Hithergreen,
London’s belching south,
Below Europe’s icy, dark trees and
In the silence of grieving mornings . ....

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You came through quiet and refreshing like a gentle spring breeze. Far away enough from winter’s dreary wear, and soon upon us like the brightness...

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