Steel in my veins, ash in the sky,
I walk through fire and don’t ask why.
The gods went silent, cold and blind,
So I carve my fate in a world unkind.
Whispers claw through twisted trees,
Luring souls down to their knees.
But I don’t bow, I don’t repent—
Let the cursed wind shred my intent.
Blood on stone, echoes scream,
Shadows feed on broken dreams.
Still I rise, sword in hand,
One lone soul against this land.
Darkness speaks, it knows my name,
But I’ve long outgrown its flame.
No angels cry, no heavens call—
Only echoes—and I face them all.
So light the pyre, let demons see—
In the valley of death, I walk free.
The Unforgiven
In a town where even the law rests
and thieves do not break out of prison
Oh, this bonny night washing my feet
in the pool in the square where
fish die for lack of oxygen
This is the moment when the unseen
the population appears,
banished as they are to the sewers
eternal darkness.
Ah, the plaza bathed in white moonlight
and they dance so tender, fur to fur
noses to noses.
Inhaling the perfumed air of their existence
The sacrifice of living underground
makes sense when,
on a night like this, nature greets them
in their heroic effort
to keep lessening the waste humans
have left behind.
Every event holds a purpose and within it, it's concealed.
In there, it stays.
Until perfect timing, it is revealed.
As it is when something's gone,
it's value we can't perceive,
it's only in it's absence do we deeply grieve.
Unwanted apologies with empty promises,
desperately grasping at ears to hear.
But insanity can't fool the ones whose mind is clear.
So, Accept the consequences that's well deserved.
And see all the lessons failed to learn.
Recognize the losses, discern what is true.
The importance of everything that is meant to value.
the unforgiven are those who reside
in the bliss of resentment
decades can pass and yet
they return to the repetitive accusation
the wind at the door
that never changes its tune
the one the garden rejoices in
when it leaves
the one in the furrows of the brain
where expectations run rampant
in possession of self-delusions
this is how existence should be
forgive, forget, and move on
are steps in the furrows
to heal that within
we learned that long ago from a cross
we were not meant to bear it
we were taught to conquer it
this is lost on the unforgiven
failing to forgive the reflection
where expectations birth resentments
decades devoted to the failure of both
the acerbic conversations of the unforgiven
are the entertainment of misery
for the emancipated who let God deal with it
Oregon 8/23
Like a little princess
With magic wand in hand
I skipped passed abusers
With my "forgiven" granted
To you, and to you, and to you
Believing my work of restoration
....finished
Then, here she comes
I saw her plain as day
TRUTH
My "forgiven" releases others
From answering to me
But in the light of TRUTH
Nothing has changed
Like a bramble
Blowing in the Nevada desert
There they roll
No way to connect to others
In LOVE because they can not
See TRUTH
...receiving faith freely
Written by Trudy Schrader on 08-06-2023
I can't seem to stop dreaming of the scattered bodies that lay along the way
They lost their lives years ago, but still live in me till this day
I can still see their faces, their eyes watch me so
My mind takes me to these places, to torture my troubled soul
And I'm tortured for taking the only true possession we have in this world
LIFE.....
and I've taken it from the young, and from the old
And this has made my heart heavy, blood cold
Sleep....I can never truly sleep
Each time I lay my head to rest, they come for me
Taking me back to that time when they lived and breathed
Doomed... am I doomed to dream on and on, nightmare after nightmare, until my soul is gone?
Oh, how I pray they'll leave me and let me live my life
For it seems I cannot find love with this horror that's inside
I wish I could be as a child who never lost their innocence
But this wish can never be until I'm forgiven for my sins.......
Why won’t you speak to me?
Can you at least tell me where
my checkered golfing socks are?
I said ‘sorry,’ made a hang-dog face.
You laughed.
Then phoned your mother.
Now the town knows
about the socks.
Around a table
far-flung families gather
offer yearly thanks.
I wish I were among them
but still, they don't forgive me.
A THANKSGIVING TANKA Poetry Contest Placed 7th
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Date wrote: 26-October-2021
You created your thoughts
your loyalties bumped high price, your thief
on your head shouldn't matter, non repented
you're dead
Spirit soul has risen, yet it doesn't long in heaven
Yet your decaying body sizzles
In the heat of the night, in Hades Den
you fled the flight passionate schemes
no longer revelant dreams
You lie flat on your back, breath taken away by God here in a coffin
your eyes are closed
you're in a box...What
your thoughts not found
are lost, you are lost
subliminal horizon your soul on, in eternal fire
devastated you panging
your physical flesh no longer being
now you're soul wishes
for a ice cold drink as your soul is dishes
3/14/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Move over forgiveness
pardon the disorder
watch as you step
through the mind of a hoarder
Grudges stored
collecting dust
memories carelessly
wrapped in disgust
The air is thick
smelling of spite
intoxicating the space
it threatens to ignite
Silence is pierced
by a venomous tongue
lashing open old wounds
as it spits how they stung
Polluted by hate
the environment reeks
but the smell is controlled
by the secrets it keeps
So excuse the clutter
give plenty of space
absolution is burried
and there's no sign of grace
Unwilling to purge
holding on to affliction
return apology to sender
along with conviction
Hush,
Listen,
Can you hear,
That purest echo was a mother’s tear,
Ssshhh,
Wait,
Feel the air that swirled,
A tiny soul has left this world.
wM
I remember the silhouette
From her stares and gestures
How they gracefully slithered
Through minds and seasons
The silk in her demeanor
How it sucked un-weaved roughage
And tilted edges of dispositions
Until moments stood firm
She only had one niddle of hope
With locally done emotional textiles
She could have lived forever
If only her hands were bare
She could have sewn garments
With royal threads
Quilts for loyal beds
Where comrades built trust, love
She could have lived forever
If only her hands were bare
Tango with stubborn winds
There is no shore to kill the vibe
The ostrich won’t pitch on shores
There is no sand to bury its head
She could have lived forever
If only her lake was pregnant with sand
Mirrors on walls of her soul
Are romancing with the image of her sores
The silhouettes are too guilty
To cover her nakedness
Truth has too much scheme in its teeth
To exonerate her
Pieces of scattered words
With sharp points like broken glass
Will penetrate the skin of her life
As she kneels for a moment of grace
Maybe, just maybe
She might live forever
We’ve walked through the valley of hell
The trail of fear was long
Why do I feel empty
I fear what comes nect
It’s frightening, that I will never be forgivem
So many have died, revenge will be the death of me
I’m now on my own, I cannot be forgiven
I’ve betrayed my brothers, now I walk alone
We where pawns for their twisted games, I had to severe my ties
Saying goodbye to this life
Question me, the fate I’ve chosen, my own destiny
I will denie this life, for I have suffered enough
We all have are choices to make, but it still tares at me
When I meet my dying breath, my heart will have no regrets
The souls that have died, reach the heavenly skies, yet they shun me
I will walk the land of fear
Wipe away these tears
When I rise to the light
Plead for death standing on a golden street in the sky
When the day comes that the dead walk the earth,
because hell has had its overfill.
Only then will I consider taking you back,
but I’ll probably deny you still.
I will always love you,
and pray for the best when it comes to the things in your life.
But it would be unbelievably wrong,
for me to stand you by my side.
Because I’m still married to sweet Mary Jane,
and she heals all my cares and my pain.
We can never go back without time machines,
so I will always be feeling this way.
So stare at the wall,
just sit there and stare,
and think about what you did.
Then maybe you can learn,
to understand too,
and all of this will make sense.
Themes are overlapping
The current keeps criss crossing
Dreaming and digressing depressing and unkind
Mish mash meandering in a labyrinth of minds
Wonder lost.....fingers crossed....
Misdiagnosed and so stupidly maintained
Disjointed mistake.....
Contorted remorse
No kingdom no horse
Replaying the scene
Rehearsing the song ... unmended
Keep doing wrong
How do I check my tongue?
Why does it always come out wrong?
Ill get forgiven - of course
And then I transcend it - much worse
Imprinted my thinking - not right
I keep on repeating .... my plight
Until I get along, its best I walk alone
How to undo this old refrain
Your spirit I fractured - time and again
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