Trudging Poems - Poems about Trudging

...An early breath of air fresh by the cusp of a rising sun up in the sky a gold coin shines bright, tinged in ruby red All of life is good when it is understood by the pilgrim who loves the pul......Read the rest...

...Opening and closing the curtains. Looking outside, then back to my paper. Silence. Then tearing sounds. The curtains scraping the screen. I opened the window to help me think. But the muggy hea......Read the rest...

...The house used to be warm when they were all home Not the house is gone and I'm all alone A stray on the street with no where to go I wish I could tell them I miss them so Trudging through all......Read the rest...

...A crumbling cabin, a jungle deep, An old soldier trudging by, Imagining he heard, in the breeze, A ghostly, wounded sigh. This elder sat 'neath a mangrove To ease his creaking bones, His une......Read the rest...

...Walking down the street, With both eyes closed, I remain on this path, Completely unopposed, That is the nature of grandiosity, I may not be alone, But nobody can touch me, Trudging down ......Read the rest...

... I can’t remember how I was before you - what I was feeling, doing, or where my heart was. I can’t remember how I lived before you - how the days were, the evenings, the nights. I remembe......Read the rest...

... In the dark opaque night, across the sonorous space of silence, enfolding the languid landscape of existence, bereft of the beguiled essence in indolent life, my forsaken journey’s pathway m......Read the rest...

...Feet of barest integument Bounding, chasing infinite woods, primal Unscathed by this immaculate earth Swallowed by puddles seeping through my spirit Overflowing, casting majesty, and so I ruminat......Read the rest...

... I don’t trust the angels They must have stolen my sun I have worked so hard , done so much I am so tired I am on my last blood No sweat left, If I cry I Die No luck left, I traded it for ......Read the rest...

... It's always Aldi on a Sunday afternoon. You're always waiting with your shopping bags in hand, slowly trudging along with your walking stick. It takes you ten minutes to get into the car. You ne......Read the rest...

...Arthur Miller spoke of leaving a “thumb print somewhere on the world” Why? Myself… I want to place an aiding hand in any heart Even one They do not need to know me I want my essence spread and ......Read the rest...

...(Approaching Ingalls Peak, 2012, original oil) Rites of Passage Forty-six years ago, my first winter in the Pacific NW my first winter break at college, I headed out to climb Mt Stuar......Read the rest...

...A Lonely Christmas, Not So Lonely Afterall. I closed the door with flowers in hand Walked the side walk alone, People passed me without a wave Was going to read the epitaph on stone. Flowers f......Read the rest...

...Beneath the damn blood-stained sunsets, cold and red, Where shadows crawl on fields of poppies dead, Some poor soul walks, burdened by the grit, Memories of a war, where every heart got hit. In......Read the rest...

... Written: December 09, 2023 ____________________________________ solitary slope whispers below by the vernacular aphonic with a fierce wind and unbiased rock buco......Read the rest...