The room was still when Power knocked—
not loud, not proud, but sure.
The Chair sat waiting, velvet-backed,
untouched, and made to endure.
The walls had yet to learn the weight
of promises unkept.
The carpet, clean—untrampled still—
knew nothing of secrets swept.
The pen was full, the desk was clear,
the seal uncracked, unswayed.
The nation watched, and History
leaned forward, unafraid.
And then—he entered, took a breath,
sat down without a sound,
and all the ghosts who’d come to sit
began to gather ‘round.
Categories:
untrampled, 9th grade, absence, america,
Form: Free verse
When sat before a blank page
I sometimes feel as lonely
as I imagine that blank page must feel
however
that blank page is also
quite stark and challenging
daunting even
it seems to be anchored there
legs apart
fisted hands lodged firmly on hips
chin tilted slightly upward
conveying the message
“C’mon I dare ya, I double dare ya!!”
looking at that blank page
I question myself
is what I’ve got
good enough to fill this page
to half fill it
to scribble on it
even a line or two
or will I just sully it
like a young boy
trampling and scuffing his way
through virgin snow
both page and snow
far, far better
if left well alone
however
like that young boy
I do trample and scuff my way
through that blank page
and view my efforts
with a more than probably
unearned sense of pride
but
and here’s the rub
like that young boy
I feel pretty good about myself
as I step back
and view my handiwork
be it good, bad or indifferent.
Categories:
untrampled, perspective,
Form: Free verse
Untrampled Sand
Idyllic shorelines tucked away,
Are island protected in a tropical bay;
Below pastel skies polished by clouds,
Reveal a Shangri-La bathed in gold.
Untrampled sands, white and tanned,
Are cooled by waves and wind fanned.
Where exotic vegetation creeps unmolested,
Claiming squatter rights of fertile deposits.
Mollusk seashells litter the beach,
Within the cove’s curvature outreach.
Where hermit crabs upgrade shells,
And birds sing throughout the hills.
Un paraíso tropical de mi corazón.
En sueños con la mujer que amo.
Gracias por la memoria
Ese viento llena mi lienzo.
Mientras navego por los océanos.
A tropical paradise of my heart,
In dreams with the woman I love.
I thank you for the memory
That wind fills my canvas
As I sail the oceans.
Categories:
untrampled, beach, destiny, feelings, love,
Form: Free verse
You must write as if all along a flaw
Was on the bone, one place not quite right.
Begin the story as if you knew the horse
As weak, delicate, ruin about to happen.
Walk the road backward,
Thick with trees, out through to pasture
Where the bucket hangs ready to fill,
The truck cold, the doctor still asleep.
Your knees without mud, the handbook high
Upon the shelf, the needle as it waits for the question
Not yet asked. Morning untrampled
As a room we'd never entered. Or entered
And were not seen. Entered and then
Forgiven. Entered never moved again.
Categories:
untrampled, age, love,
Form: I do not know?
Poor and needy
Needing the other half
Rib in place
For the sake of the make
One, Two
Loneliness canceled
A double move untrampled
Proteciton following
Steps untamed
Balance found in Gods domain
Categories:
untrampled, religion,
Form: Light Verse
America, the beautiful...
aimlessly just like a cloud
drifting free above the crowd
of cluttered chaos and bleak souls
of jungles thriving in hellholes.
America, whose freedom's praised...
floating over stained landmarks
(those abandoned, spotty marks),
where still we fight for equal rights
and others live barb wired lives
and yet most struggle to survive.
America, the patriot...
what constitutes right or wrong?
The status quo? Thick and strong,
that hides behind the weak and blind
and what I'll call BULLreaucracy
and manicured hypocrisy.
America, how's glory sung
when silenced by human tears,
their sufferance braved through years?
It's not starred banners waved in air,
but nooses hung with ropes threadbare!
America, you noble one...
to the world, your throne is might
proudly hailing in every light.
BUT crown your good? With brotherhood?
where discordance and hatred fall
with little mercy on us all?
America, triumphant one,
lead us to untrampled ground,
out of the past, homeward bound,
over ramparts and black hearts
beneath the shadow of His hand
and once again to your great land.
Categories:
untrampled, introspection, life, social
Form: Rhyme