Where Poems

Where are They Now?

The youthful days 
of hopeful dreams 
and tears that trickled 
into streams? 

Love that flourished 
in the sun 
and faded 
as quickly as it had begun? 

Where are they now, 
the incense prayers, 
high as hopes 
to one who cared? 

The carefree days 
of fearless whims, 
the joy of voicing 
songs and hymns? 

Where are

I wonder where the wind goes

I wonder where the wind goes
To be alone
To listen
To the whispers
Of idle leaves
Eavesdrop on the 
Ripples of the pond
Succumb to the silence
Of nature’s hum
Huddle in the shade
With un-tumbling tumbleweeds
Vagabonds sharing a story
In a dusty train yard

Beside the river where dogs bathe

inevitably, she comes for us all
my lover— death, with her webbed fingers

her skin soft as a porcupine’s, 
her quills darting into my chest
tears me apart in search of her craving
a smile as she gently ripped it out of my flesh

she held it out to the heavens and breathed out a cry of death
her teeth harder

Where Come From The Agression?

Agression

Where come from? From the mind? From the soul?
Is it genetic? No. It’s not that. Then? From second 

Second? Yes. The second person. That’s not an ego
The second you. Sure. Lives with you. Drive. Demon

But not all aggressive
I have one. Friendly

He wrote this poem
Please, take difference

He
Asks

Where Grass That Grow

When you hate someone
And you still feel love
It's like burning a grass
And then still grows back. 

When you control love
And you still unable to deny
It's like mowing the grass
After a few days it offshoot again. 

When you befriend someone
Be sure it is mutually agreed 
For when trouble comes near
Both parties can able to amend. 

When

KNOWING WHERE TO LOOK

I am grateful for knowing 
despite how long it took..
that discovering many of life’s answers
depends on where I look.

It turns out it is not nearly as difficult as it seems….
Looking outside myself 
I find all the wonders of the world
Looking inside myself 
I find my wishes…hopes and dreams.

Where the Pacific meets the Coast

The beach climbs are harder
the rocks turn my feet
and I find myself walking on my ankles
wading through sand

But the photos at sunset
or as the moon rise
are such a surprise

Like paintings
like fine art
witnessing the beauty of nature
as it shows us all of the basis for inspiration
everywhere

The sea air is so refreshing
the tang of salt
its cool crisp

In the labyrinth of dreams, where words are sculpted from silence

In the labyrinth of dreams, where words are sculpted from silence,
I often wonder why I don't dare to speak my truth.
How could it be so hard to let the heart flow,
When day by day I play with sounds, with rhymes, with metaphors?
Would it be enough for these words to reach her, to bloom?
I already know

In a corner of the world where dreams break in waves of silence

In a corner of the world where dreams break in waves of silence,
And shadows dance on the edge of a heart too full,
In a sea of thoughts that pour like a river of unrest,
I stand and unravel into thousands of threads of longing and regret.
My soul, a canvas of stars that ignites and fades,
In a

Where Did Dilly Dally Go

Just checked in
to read a few of poets
that I follow

And one was missing
Without a trace
had flown like the summers swallow

Where is Dilly Dally ?
Could someone clue me in
For she was more than poet

I regard her as a friend

Where Teardrops Fall

The Belt Wearer...strode into the room

The heartbeat of Young Hearts...foresaw doom

A crack of the whip...and backs stripped bare

The smell of burnt leather...hung in the air

Bedtime now...after a late night smack

Pain called out for help...but no one called back

The more storms would rage...the more rain would fall

Call it a typical day...down Teardrop Hall

Where do all the voices go?

Where do all the voices go
When told to repress their emotions
Do they fake a smile and swallow it whole
Or do they bury their heads in the ocean and scream

The black voices are silenced
Trapped in the purgatory of compliance 
Usually erased by a history of violence 
Or thrown into solitary confinement 
No light, no windows
Just an

Where Waves Become Me

waves crash and tumble
washing feet in sifting sand
my mind drifts to hush
thoughts dissolve in frothing foam—
I'm emptied of all burdens

for this brief moment
I'm at peace, sublime, profound
wrapped in the soft surge
before undertow returns—
dragging me below again

yet if I give in
let the current carry me
not fight its embrace
it cradles me in its foam —
to drift alone

Where Have All the Birds Gone

Some say the summer sun,
drove them to the jagged peaks,
where they pressed their feet in snow,
and froze, defeated, swallowed by silence.

Empty skies above,
Hollow fields below—
Who will recall their vanished songs?
Who will cradle their echoes?

Others recall their beaks filled,
with plastics from tainted fields,
like cacti bristling through sand
choking the voices that once soured.

Some saw a trembling mirage.
A

Where do we go from here?

I won't lie to you to fake emotions I might feel
and tell you things you want to hear

In this give-and-take, no lie, that feels 
lobsided and askew, sometimes like a tug of war

Breathlessly waiting, life in limbo
one toe in the water overly cautious
holding back ~

Stuck behind yield signs and stop signs
the occasional yellow lights
foot on

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