Long Chronicled Poems

Thrice the night—the day!—both fell to sleepless slumber,
But now in Spring, though yet again: The third was three in number. 

I sense a wince remind itself,
Of what it means to be,
Instead to beg for booked...

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The house smelled damp and musty as I stepped into the parlor. Cobwebs laced the windows, and the plants were all but dead. 
Uncle Roy and Aunt Nadine were quite a lovely couple, and right...

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Ho, ho, ho! 

There is this well written article, the link which I gladly give down below,
It is a most beautifully written anecdote of a traveler's tale for well it showed...
A funny side of Malaysia...

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A field of chiseled headstones spread before me when I paused to scan the peaceful countryside that day. 
It dawned on me that I would not have passed this place at all had I not...

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" Human Campfire Legacy ... "

( Gen. 2: 4 / Gen. 3: 24 / Ex. 13: 21 )
( Ex. 3: 2 / Rev. 22: 5, 6 )


All & Every Family of Man
Must Have Gathered Around...

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It’s a journey to be reconciled with the past,
especially when one’s life still carries the wound;
it’s like a running sore that permeates the soul,
a gigantic barrier, an impediment in any way.

God’s promise, “The light shines...

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There is a place inside the woods where I wound up one night.
Way up in the mountains where I went to get a bite.
Circumstances led me there the day my car broke down.
I thought I’d...

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Martinique is in our history too
Not just in our blood
Because Josephine seduced him
To make us reap more bitterness
From the ferment of the sugarcane
Martinique was also his home
His native shore
Long before Paris
It was his Algerian door
But...

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It is the latest news that even claimed attention there in London...
A video clip somewhere in the city, the central part being redly encircled...

Drawing attention to the running digital display of a statement...
Of an Opposition...

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"A photograph is a moment frozen in time . . ."

It is a family gathering
in the photograph I have found
of me as a baby and my beautiful mother
holding me in her arms;
   ...

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life is understood backwards while it moves forth

          memories epiphanies hindsight and full vision

            ...

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Lines of steel stale with rust
Eavesdropping on former voices
That echo long forgotten stories
Of Hobo's and their riding blind choices

Rails drumming a steady pulse
Somewhere between thunders deafening pitch
And piercing squeals of halting mass
A symphony of the...

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half seen in the shadows
a film of images
monlit velvet. blue deep
a pale stone in the dark
a glitter of water:
the days end
   voices far afield

light of sunrise
   the stillness
a rainbow awakens
 ...

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New World Order; Psychological Warfare

Split minds, souls at unrest; UFOs or USOs? 
Wealth, lost in the wash, fear-mongering media, 
indoctrinated control. Listen here, listen there. 
Do what you are told. Lost, chock full of filth....

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The gift he gave her on their wedding night before they drifted off to sleep
was a book…an empty book…which she didn’t get to keep.

I will keep this book, he told her and throughout life’s different...

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In Cities in Flight
transformations are chronicled over generations.
It can make us cry
out for the genius occurring
now and in our past. How
the unseen, unknown participant
was made known to himself
through devotion to those outside himself. He
guides his...

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When men tell a story 
They only state the facts
But women add color commentary
For its more than just white and black
We mention those hidden figures
Our fellow sisters in Christ
We call them by their given names
Their...

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Now drips the juices off a knife pierced heart
Emerged from a cocoon 
Filled with pain
Your love had brought me out to the noon
Warm sun no more rain
Without you there’s no four letter word
Without you my...

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Pangs of disappointment grip me now
as I think about certain things at work
an uphill endeavor, a total dedication
to what my vocation asks me to perform.

I see how in the parish setting grows
those relationships and actions...

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Anything but bread

I bumped into a man named Fred
And listened to each word he said
A story I was soon to dread
For all he talked about was bread

In detail he spoke every slice
Some made of wheat...

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I Am A Book
By David J Walker

I am a book of Unread pages
I am a book

	I am a book Written in stages  in
A travel log On a road called Time
With the foreign stamps Of...

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Born and raised in Brooklyn,
with a poetic heart to write.
Anticipated in making friends,
all poetic forms bring him delight.

With a love for ice skating,
at the Franconia Notch Lakes.
Inspiration is set to verse,
from the photographs he takes.

He...

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Chronicler of History

History goes back as you might guess
Through vast tracks of time out there to be cataloged and measured
And a couple minutes more, before the universe was born
It discovered Hobo Jack at home within...

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It matters not you have the blood of heroes.
It matters not your family's claim to fame.
It matters not your riches and possessions.
What matters now is how you bear the name;

For though you have the blood...

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Gilgamesh O’Malley left his home in Fermanagh
With dreams of steaming plates of Irish stew.
He ate his last potato last time Sheamus paid the rent.
Since then, there’s not been very much to chew.

The lords of the...

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