There are rumbles of thunder,
Yet, outside, a bird
Is chirping; I wonder
If he has not heard.
For rain clouds have started
Ejecting some drops
At Nature’s imparted
Commands; movement stops
In the trees, where each leaf
Hangs there quiet and still
For it is my belief
They’ve a job to fulfill,
Which is follow the lead
Of what Nature decides.
To survive, they must heed
Their instinctual guides.
As the raindrops increase
There is no other sound
Than the cloudburst’s release;
Not one bird sticks around.
Protecting the peonies from gusty autumn
I cut a few and placed them in a favourite vase
on the window sill in full view of the garden.
Outside, a succession of leaves can be seen
releasing their hold on the branches of trees
and float past the window bidding final farewell.
Indoors, the peonies drop their petals one by one,
landing on this very page where this poem was written.
Moonlight rests on the windowsill~
a pale blessing poured without a sound.
My open Bible glows faintly~
its pages holding the night like a calm breath.
Outside, a lone owl settles on the fence~
a stillness deep as prayer.
Before the world learned how to pronounce my name,
you whispered it into the dark
like a prayer afraid of being overheard.
You stitched mornings together
with the thin thread of your patience—
tea boiling over, uniforms drying late,
rent waiting at the door like bad weather.
I thought childhood was effortless.
I did not see
how often your hunger
sat quietly beside mine
and chose silence.
Your palms smelled of turmeric, soap,
old books, rainwater,
and the iron scent of sacrifice.
When I failed,
you did not offer speeches.
You simply moved closer
and made grief feel smaller.
Even your anger
was another form of shelter—
a storm standing guard
outside a fragile house.
I left home
with borrowed courage
that was yours all along.
Every applause I have received
carries the echo of your sleepless nights.
Every room that welcomes me
was first opened by your refusal to quit.
People congratulate me
for climbing so high.
They do not know
I have been standing
on your invisible shoulders
my entire life.
And if history remembers me kindly,
let it write this in bold letters:
whatever shines in me
was lit by my mother first.
Eyes open, arms stretch
Take a deep breath
Knees bend, back straightens
Feet bear the weight, back’s not achin’
Elbows, shoulders all work great
Brain directs the body’s fate…
The world’s alive with me, at my door
Bird’s chirping, cat’s purring on the floor
My window opens to fragrance of lilacs, roses
Sprinklers’ water-jets emitting rainbows
Outside a fawn comes running my way
Squirrels frolic to start the day
Taught not to believe in miracles
I marvel ~ teaching’s all for naught
Things haven't gone my way
I put two years in the mix
But luck wasnt on my side they say
There is now too much to fix
Too many lost expecatations
"Just a disappointment"
Starting over
was not my intent
It hurts
More than anything
Looking at all of them
Succeding
And still pretending
To smile happily at everything
How do I make out
A silver lining in this cloud
It has swallowed me whole
I want to scream
There's nobody to hear
Empty chaos runs inside me
The volcano is ready to erupt
I can't control it
An awaited catastrophy
My face wants to break
Into a thousand pieces
My wrists want to bleed
Save me for the stichtes
I have pulled out all my hairs
My head is swollen
Slammed into a wall
Outside a smiling face
Inside a broken doll
I can't do it
I don't deserve happiness
I am happy with regret.
Today my daily run, it's pouring rain
From exercise there is so much to gain
What ever the weather I will not refrain
I pass a group of smokers outside a fast non "food" quick death franchise chain
Running bare foot, bare top in just shorts alone
I feel the multitude of raindrops massage my tanned skin
Luckily I'm not a "LOAN SHARK"
In this heavy rain I would need to grow a fin
In the middle of the town I'm aware of many stares
that seem to indicate I"m entirely mad
I assume I don't have all their addictions
I'm free from many a nasty fad
So here's to the rain providing many puddles
into which ,with fun, I can run and jump and splash
The rivers creeks the land
with life giving water they are all awash
Another poem's come to mind
the time has come to dash
Given a name,
gradually, walls start to frame.
On them, a title that’s not her name.
She complains, but holds a faint flame.
Her accomplishments form a ladder,
but to them, it doesn’t matter.
Siblings already broke free,
but she’s just three.
Planned who she’ll be,
and she never dares disagree.
Her trials never succeed,
yet outside, a plant is seen —
how, when she holds the seed?
Siblings grow their fame,
under one roof, but not the same.
She has no ladder to escape,
yet still compared for her different shape.
My mom’s favorite flower
And when I catch the wafting shower
And imbibe the smell of them
My thoughts of Mom start up again
While she rests under a lilac bush
She has visions of a Monet
And her thoughts and the moths
Inhabit the lilac in a romantic foray
It’s more of an adorning (as with a crown)
This purple fountain of pageantry
I’m putting them on a pedestal
But please don’t think any less of me
She loves them so, this is how lilac’s trundle
Outside a trellis, inside, in water, in bundle
But as soon as these beauties had renown
They die slowly and turn to brown
But it’s the memories
That keep me coming back
I will think of my Mom often
Every time I smell a lilac
poem written for an online poetry contest in response to the above image
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clock’s hands carve circles
into the air, but time
does not move.
I sit at the edge of a chair
that remembers the shape
of someone else’s body.
Outside, a car engine stutters,
then dies~
not mine.
The phone is a black
mirror. I stare
until my face dissolves.
A fly lands on my wrist,
its legs like tiny prayers,
but I do not flinch.
The sun bleaches the curtains
white. Shadows grow teeth.
Still, nothing arrives.
Somewhere, a train is late.
Somewhere, a door stays shut.
Here, I become the waiting.
Plunge boldly into the thick of life, and seize it where you will, it is always interesting. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The alarm screams, but I let it fade,
pressing palms to warm sleep-swollen cheeks.
Outside, a crow cracks the dawn in two~
I want to taste its blackberry beak.
Coffee steam writes promises on air,
each sip erasing yesterday’s debt.
My socks mispaired; the universe winks.
The freeway hum stitches the sunset.
Dandelions breach the concrete,
their gold teeth gnawing at parking lots.
I pick up a pebble, smooth as time,
letting it weigh down my what-ifs and nots.
The moon arrives early, drunk on light,
slurring silver across my doorstep.
I step right through tomorrow’s thin skin.
Please open the door, it’s dark in here. “Go to your room,” the
The command hangs heavily.
Can I come downstairs now? The question met with silence, a
hollow echo.
Hungry, a plea lost in the suffocating air.
Be quiet! A hiss that chills deeper than the winter wind. Be still, a
demand that binds like rusted chains.
Wrapped eyes and hands, a sightless, touchless world. Can’t see,
can’t feel, adrift in a sea of fear.
The peel of a skinny branch, a cruel reminder. It bounces back, a
mockery of the sting it leaves.
Cold baths, the bite of water on chilled skin. Hand-me-down
clothes, a constant reminder of what’s missing.
Winter outside, a mirrored coldness within. The memories are
pushed to the back of the mind, but remains.
The needles from childhood are sharp and ever-present.
The door opens, and a sliver of light pierces the darkness.
But will it be enough to chase away the shadows?
The walls remember what I cannot forget,
Whispering names I fear to speak.
Shadows coil, curling like smoke,
Hissing truths that taste like grief.
Every heartbeat drums a warning,
Every floorboard moans beneath my weight.
I reach for comfort, find only absence,
Hands of the lost slipping through my own.
Eyes in the walls, eyes in the dark,
Watching, waiting, marking every thought.
Paranoia bites like a hungry knife,
Gnawing at the edges of reason.
Memories bleed into the corners,
Faces that haunt even the light.
Loss is a storm I cannot outrun,
Grief a tide dragging me into night.
I speak, and the echoes answer wrong,
I move, and the shadows mimic me.
Trapped in a mind that has turned on itself,
The world outside a distant, mocking dream.
Ex-KGB prime minister then president
twice.? Entered into Minsk accords..
Watched many countries from
The old Warsaw pact shorn.'
Did allow a con-vid response.' Yet no
coercion or shaming, no fear ensconced
Not as i could have expected, it to be.?
Then in early twenty, twenty two, put a
Military force into Ukrainian sectors
All pro-Russian i'd say; thats quite true.'
Banned transgender and same sex
coupling, he gets disparaged..He appears viewed
From outside, a determined leader.' Internally
I undamaged' What
Effects will be engendered, how long will
He linger.? Will he deter
another world war? Almost by default.? Whats waiting in
Store? I remember the old cold war.' Claim and
Counter.? I'd rather that, than continents
burst asunder.? I view the scenes and hope
Some sense.? Could things cool down.? I
Forget recompence..And for what.? I plead
No war..Neither big nor small. They are counter productive chores."
He sat outside a window pane,
On the street called Easterlane.
Invisible to some but not to all;
who cared or none the same.
Passersby with shadowed eyes
Would pass by him in vain
And go by him with cautious vibes,
Some judging while some refrain.
A lonely man with dirty hands
and clothes some say as claim;
Would Drink his wine in perfect time,
Before a judgement came.
Some prayed for him.
Some pity him.
Some cursed him just the same.
But he would smile and ignored the trials
and drink his drink again.
From spring to winter,
(All seasons all)
Around the evening two,
Would sit this man with a happy grin, Ignoring the verdict too.
On the news a story arose a scene
That drew the public view;
“Tech. inventor, billionaire and alcoholic too; Dies on Easterlane, around the evening two”
Outside my window (Easterlane)
The man was gone from view.
Tech. Inventor?
Billionaire?
Dam, who would have knew?
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