New jacket, new bike.
Old man rode
Wobbling unsteadily
Straight into a pond,
Frustrating the ducks.
They say happiness is a flame,
brief as a match struck in rain.
I held it once—
a home, two sons,
a husband who smiled like promise.
Until his arms curled elsewhere.
Until his mouth tasted betrayal.
Until I learned beauty
was something I could not hold
no matter how tightly I bled.
The dragon woke in me that night.
Not scaled, not winged,
but clawed in grief,
fire burning holes through my ribs.
If he could snatch away my joy,
I would scorch his world in return.
My children—
his children—
became the tinder.
Their laughter, their small hands,
their faces shaped like his,
drowned in my fury.
But when the river stilled,
their silence came back louder.
My vengeance collapsed into ash.
I touched their lips
and begged them to breathe,
to forgive.
And when the willow trees bowed
like mourners on the shore,
I followed,
slipping into the water’s mouth,
hoping death would undo
what rage had done.
They say I weep at night.
They say I call for them,
cursed to wander, cursed to wail.
But tell me this—
what do you call a woman
whose heart became a dragon,
and whose bones still burn
with the tears she cannot shed?
Enough, he said with voice pitched low
Enough for now, he whispered slow
And curled in upon himself
Having nothing left to show
Knowing no one and nonself
Enough, he cried though no one heeded
Enough for now, as he retreated
And left another piece behind
Having no faith to be intreated
Perceiving his own broken mind
Enough, he proclaimed with a tremor
Enough for now, if I remember
And cursed himself a fool
Having no word to condemn her
Aware that she was ever cruel
Enough, he shouted above the gale
Enough for now, and beyond the pale
And twisted his face into a scowl
Having nothing to add to the tale
Conscious of the verdict’s howl
Enough, he cursed deep and vile
Enough for now, with poet’s style
And laughed with bitter fortune
Having lost the courage to smile
Mindful of his full lost portion
Enough, he screamed from soul deep
Enough for now, as he woke from his sleep
And shuddered as his eyes opened
Having nothing and no tears to weep
Heeding the anguish that life betokened
Old weeping willow why do you cry
Your beauty is green leaves not blue
Your roots a pillow from which to thrive
As Mother Nature’s sun smiles on you
Many a kid has used your brown branches
To climb you or swing in your shadowy shade
Many a poet you inspire romantic antics
Carving heart in your bark or writing on page
Your children near and far mirror you
And some have been lumbered sadly
Furniture and houses made as proof
You must miss them being near badly
Do you weep due to lost dreams
Or is it the loss of your forest green
Is it because man pollutes the stream
Or you find no peace as we keep warring
I’d like to apologize for our ignorant ways
For changing your forest for selfish reasons
I hear your song in the wind each day
I cherish you at each every emerald season
So you stand on brown holy ground
It’s holy because you peach persevere
May you live forever in our town
As a preserved prize that thrives here
Mother, father are weeping
Because the heavens didn’t send their heart a soul
The wind, their house is breaking
And the morning is very cold
Outside they find
With the earth in the sky
That their sound is not here
Nor is it nearby
There's a train screaming angels to lower their heads
And a cold concrete block reeking of death
When no one was there
When no one was sent
A crowd turned desire
Now all has been spent
There's a stone in the morning summer air
And a clock that is ticking everywhere
A heart that is beating alone and cold
And a sound of weeping taking hold
Mother, father are weeping
Because the heavens didn’t send their heart a soul
The wind, their house is breaking
And the morning is very cold
And outside lay bones of those before
The soil is crying with them all
And the sky opens up for one last look
But looks away for it mistook
That the two were still alive.
If the world could weep
if rain could wash away tears
would the flood be forty days
or forty years
what time it shall take
happily my life I would forsake
if only
children laughed
children played
children loved
teaching elders not to hate
never having to live in fear
I would drown peacefully
a happy woman
The dins of war un-hushed
the jarring of munitions
the cacophony of starvation
the grating contempt for humanity
the discordant silence of the Free
. . . The World
Mankind in all his stupidity and greed is slowly destroying our beautiful earth, the warnings are there but he chooses to ignore them.
Quote by poet.
I sat down under the cool shade of some weeping willow trees,
a babbling brook flowed nearby and was so soothing to hear.
I felt totally relaxed then I fell asleep and started to dream.
So, I asked the trees a question why is it that you all weep?
one said" We weep because of the way man treats mother earth,
he cuts down her forests because of greed causing climate change,
he dumps rubbish in her great oceans and is killing all her wildlife,
and causes great conflicts because others don't share his views.
So, you see my friend we don't have much to be happy about".
A plane flying overhead finally woke me up from my deep sleep.
It troubled me what I'd dreamt and as I walked away, I wept with them.
A serene sunset paints the alluvium at the shore line in tones reminiscent of a blushing bride. The glassy surface of the lake reflects the gently swaying of a lone tree. Whispers of wind weave through the willows, sharing secrets of yesteryear. Each gentle gust carries a chorus of memories, softly sung by the wind's lament. The trailing weeping willow tree branches sweeping the water are dripping with her tears, trying not to merge with the discarded bouquet swirling in the eddies at her feet. Thankfully, the timeless beauty of nesting birds returning in the twilight creates a moment of pure, peaceful perfection.
So it is slowly weeping
Ever seeping
Ever seeping
Quietly pain is creeping
Since death’s last reaping
Here as my tears are twinkling
Ever blinking
Ever blinking
My self no longer keeping
Out my tears are tinkling
As my joy is ‘gain sinking
Ever shrinking
Ever shrinking
Another light dies winking
Life no longer linking
Sitting under this Weeping Willow
tree, I think of yesterdays gone by.
The special times I spent with my
Mom and Dad, I reminisce and cry.
They're no longer here, God took
them to a better place, away from
me.
Mom said," If I ever leave, look for
me in the clouds my son, that's
where I'll always be."
Now I go through life wishing I had
spent more time with them.
Wishing, I could go back in time
and relive my life again.
On a beautiful sunny day when those
beautiful clouds roam free.
I see the outline of my Mother's face,
like she said, my Mother, Anais.
A BIRCH TREE'S CONFIDENCE
A young tree stands tall
Rooted to the woodland floor
Thinks itself immune
To all the struggles in store
As ignorant as a child
THE WEEPING WILLOW'S LAMENT
In the end, all trees
Must surrender to decay
Seep into the dirt
Shut their eyes and slip away
It’s a fate none can escape
Urge to drown in the ocean
Of the eyes that belong to him,
Indulged in pure devotion
To the smile that makes me dim.
But when he fixes his hair
As I hold my pen to write,
I'm left stunned in the moment,
Lost for words to describe.
-laxika
nearby a moss covered angel kneels in prayer
hands grasped she weeps in the autumn rain
oh, this mournful image touches my soul
and among the stained glass leaves flowers are fading
at mom's grave I lay rose-colored roses already wilted
knowing in hours they too ... will be withering
I rig a dream to fill it with all the anguish
my heart has felt in a damp world always weeping.
My worn coat hangs in a closet, its arms empty,
like winter branches sighing, their damp world weeping.
A yearning to run, an inhale of rain, I yield
to a vulture of shadows weeping in damp worlds.
In the silhouette, a scared animal picks its
infant away in gray snow, its damp world weeping.
Under the surface of water, a turtle’s shell
ripples slick and obsidian, its damp world weeping.
I need to touch and feel rich testaments of joy
my emotions not derailed in damp worlds weeping.
@jjote 090624
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