Details |
Kristen Rohder Poem
He stepped over her head,
with polite procession.
Climbing the pearl ladder of dreams
Seeking the world, something he would call Heaven.
FeetplantedFirmly
in the clouds, tapping his toes on transparent sheets of oblivion.
TAP TAP TAP
away the roads of old.
See the flowers budding anew,
watch his tender eyes as life blooms,
And he finally began.
She knew him.
She knew there was a game
he yearned to play; a muscle he yearned to flex; a hole in his heart he yearned to fill.
A teary eyed—green eyed girl peered
from behind,
Witnessing a life come true.
A kiss of rain on a hot, sunny day...his relief, his time to fly.
As soon as the rain came
Such beautiful ruin followed;
Places he traveled,
Children he sired,
The woman he always desired.
And so he waved.
And so she cried.
Such a way for her to die; truth be told she knew he’d forget for a bit.
Truth be let go;
He moved further away from when she knew him best.
All eagles learn to fly
and as they spread their wings
they soar above the rest.
Riding the current,
ridding the past. Looking to the sky
Placing his hand on the moon
and his foot
on the greatest mountain of all; love.
He is love.
She has witnessed his greatness in and wilted because of it;
only to grow and find
love
comes and goes
on it’s own.
One of these days, she thinks,
he will remember
that he loved me.
One of these years
he’ll look back and see that while his life was soaring,
another’s was painfully beginning.
One of these days,
she’ll forget
how nice he was to her.
And he’ll remember how nice it was
to see her smile.
But she’ll never know, for she’ll have a life of her own.
Copyright © Kristen Rohder | Year Posted 2005
|
Details |
Kristen Rohder Poem
In bubble thought
I wrote by words
of my round-glassy head
and closed my eyes.
To my surprise
I saw a vintage
picture—a cover to a book
I’d closed for years.
To keep my eye
from sprinkling
I let the story unfold
in silent
form
for I fear happy-sad haunting
from my trunk of tears.
tainted
and smeared.
In retro motion
a young-old girl
lay content in May...
Across
sits he.
She looks to him
and asks if she were a flower,
what would she be?
"A rose," said he. "A rose, indeed..."
His throat pretends to choke
and retreats from verse.
he flees from words he
did not mean to spurt.
With one Rose in thought,
away she runs,
‘Neathe dandelions flush with green,
Under skies too perfect to change motion.
clouds so close
she reaches and carries with her
nothing
but the rose
He gave her.
Only passion runs deep within a flower so bold,
only words
I know to speak
are ones which tell me
why we wilt instead of grow?
Greeted by summer trees,
sounding like trumpets as they dream.
Wind pulling back her hair
a glance beyond which she sees;
A truth in love
bound by seeds of faith and passion,
understanding
and need.
side by side
each of the us
remain quiet as if waiting
for the sun to rise.
to break free from chains, beneath earth’s skin
to spread like butter on the plain before us.
Adorned in black sashes and bows,
the fair-whether wind utters an untimely tale,
serenading the drum
cradled in her ear.
“Exhale”, I say.
Let recollections of days
since then,
fade away.
As days now drip from the silver faucet, which cleanse my hands, soul and feet,
I cast reflections out to sea.
From the shore of my bubbled head
the eldest rose, I spy, yet to die;
and
The May I mothered deep inside,
Flashed brightly, gently and briefly.
Never-tattered
never-worn
just smaller in size.
Glassy eyes and goblets of wine, I drink to love and reflections of a man like a month
left behind.
Copyright © Kristen Rohder | Year Posted 2005
|
Details |
Kristen Rohder Poem
Most days I watch swarms of humanity float
like puffy clouds in the sky,
such zombies
we are, plowing the fields with only our feet
and watering smaller walks of life with tears
filled with wisdom, oh how we have wisdom to spare.
Even the tiniest of persons has one life to change,
whether a smile
or giggle,
we are to be reminded of youth and spirit
and lacking it when we grow old and gray
makes us die a little quicker than before.
I used to swing on trees and beg the sun to burn my skin
so I would never be cold.
So I would have the sun’s love tattooed on my body
and we were close.
Climbing to the highest branch,
one day
I fell
and met the earth and my faith in one instant
I was reborn.
Finding a hand some place close to my heart
and pulling myself from a state of mind unknown
I grew a little then and didn’t even notice.
Looking at life through a glass which enlarges my heart
I can see parasites which choose to live like worms to an apple...eating away, creating
passage ways so years of my pain can finally leak through
perhaps it will leak as far out of me and reach
you.
To teach the truth you do not see in me.
Such gleaming lips and teeth you see each day.
and the laugh you hear
to shy away any thought of my decaying heart.
I’ve been breaking apart since the day I figured you out
and keeping all your secrets to myself.
Another tree in my life I climbed, to grow closer to the sun
but a burn to my face
and a fall to ground
I broke the bones
for you and for me,
And spent a cold summer burned.
If one were to find my soul, millionsofyears from now, fossilized in snow,
it might still have a pulse
to take
or a face to see
that these days in which we live are strenuous
on the heart
and fatal for the soul...a dying race is all we’ve become.
so much heartache in this place
And all I can do is tread above ground before I start to sink.
Or
find my place in God’s hand and sit and wait
for someone to open the gate.
Perhaps it is warm where we go
and since love in unconditional
we will be like wells that never taste drought.
Copyright © Kristen Rohder | Year Posted 2005
|