Imagination Memorial Poems

#Conversations_in_the_corridors
Listen with caution, these corridors have deep explicit voices whispering some mind boggling conversations, erruptive spine chilly giving conversations, lies of good nothings, if these...

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My flag is not black n white with a blue streak 
My flag is not a field of white stars n scars of machine guns
My...

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A meeting of two moms can be a wonderful thing a meeting of two minds is a beautiful thing…

Shortly after we moved into our new...

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From an abandoned sky comes images from on high
tossing away the things that make us sane 
Subliminally casting all away to an abandoned sky

from nothing...

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The table is old and worn
nicks and scratches 
its red plastic tablecloth left over from a forgotten Christmas
its holiday pattern worn and forlorn
many a Thanksgiving...

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A trio of people 
stand arms embraced
all distant in space
Around a fourth 
all forgotten of face
The room is bare 
only a single bulbs 
hangs here...

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Here & there, everywhere 
lie pieces & parts of me
I exist only in the moments between what is and will be…

Taking a ride to the...

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My thoughts drift...back 
...to days-long ago...
like faded photographs...
the sun is
bright... 
the day is brilliant and crisp...

I stand among the forest of lost moments
like, dear, that...

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As long shadows flew out before me
Like raven swings, fluttering
Stiff, gentle winds carry 
Winters chill not far behind

Sun-lit cars are all in sharp relief 
Setting...

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Reflections are divergent 
images composite
negatives of dreams 
an alternate stream. 

Calculations of precise reality reflected.
diverge and coalesce? In memories 
Stacked as photographs fade…

Reflections are divergent...

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To Babylon, we came...
To watch the rise of Tower 
The Tower of Cain
A fortress of dark n eternal pain

Stretching to the vaults of heaven 
to...

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alone
in a crowded room 
people pass faces glance 
void they are… 
 
no thought to anyone's soul 
or ponderings of creation 
just shells walking in...

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A turning nation
Turn around we all fall

The tall are bound but small
Here comes the crown, swords drawn

A nation turns and the world 
burns spin with...

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Down distance streets distant days obscured 
Visions of idle things resting in the weeds skeletal 
Rusted eons have fallen machines dead

In their stance flies flicker...

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Driving deep the liquid pleasure 
Into electric flesh and wires, static

Feeling the rush of white light 
Burning all visions of memories in angelic fire ...

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