Long Discoloring Poems

The Things Never Said
The terror…
The only things ever said about my daddy’s WWII service were that he’d been to New Guinea where he’d ridden on a truck full of soldiers by a river without a...

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Disruptions  of realities confront our path through the difficulties
we have to endure, we proceed bravely through, with determination 
self-empowerment bestowing upon us with little expectations to close
 for enduring pain, shadows blocking light from...

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`

I opened the rusted iron gateway
bound in chain and wire, to find a landing
caked in muddied footprints, scattered about like roaches
Magpie shadows course the rain soaked streets
and puddle patterns reflect temptation as light flickers
from second...

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Oh my beautiful Daughters
what have you done to the men of the Earth,
turning the roar of men's' love into notes of shame and whispers,
discoloring the gallant glow of trust with untempered lust for popular worth,

I...

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In the part tonight 
all the eminent guests arrived
with their best apparels on,
full of illimitable mirth.

The assembly hall danced
with the fragrances of the deodorant;
cheer lightening their faces,
smiles lessening their age
and every new entrant
being treated warmly...

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Walking down the concrete pathway
I sure find my mind wandering 
The view takes my breath away
As rain wets the ground meandering

There is a woman right there before me
Stark in contrast wearing a bright red
Walking a...

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Cattails grow up out of my muck
taking root in  the mire on my bottom

creeping along in my soft blue clay,
shooting up in long cylindrical spikes
with a velvety fruit, encouraging

red-winged black birds to nest, feed,
caw...

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I had found solace in my quill
Because therein could be expressed
That tragedy which gave me chills.
The pen and ink gave me some rest—

Because therein could be expressed
The cold emotion that I felt.
The pen and ink...

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The bucket sits idle
catching the dripping of dreams
discoloring as they evaporate.
Their tenuous connection to time
now but an echo in the bucket.

The bucket has never held
any maudlin mystery
as age has just ticked me off.
I still use...

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At the beginning of the pier as I gaze outward,
My path appears narrow, straight also so definite.
Cascading light, showed far away shadows, un-brightly.
Precious clouds portray, a show, remembering the night.
Shallows, which shimmer on each side...

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Tick tock…tick tock
tick tock goes the clock

With each stroke of its hand
robbing me of youth and vigor
scarring the skin, discoloring the hair
and causing me suddenly to wither.

Just when I’m getting my bearings
in this immense place...

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