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Agnes Krampe Poem
Friends, do not forget: there is still beauty
When the darkness comes and shadows fall,
Music, Art, and nature, gentle comforts
When despair is deep and hope is small.
Friends, do not forget: there is still laughter
When we’ve finished choking down our tears,
When the world seems full of desolation
And we grit our teeth and face our fears.
Friends, do not forget: they have not taken
Kindness, love and friendship from our hearts.
If we can resist the hate and anger,
Maybe we can be where healing starts.
We will rise again tomorrow morning,
Sunshine follows even darkest night.
Think of this when you feel close to breaking
As we walk the long road to the light.
November 2016
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2016
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Agnes Krampe Poem
Taking the risk,
Baring the soul,
Seeking the wisdom
That shall make us whole.
Raising the arms,
Spreading the wings,
Hearing the music
That deep in us sings.
Stepping the dance,
Chanting the song,
Feeling the sisterhood
Tender and strong.
Sharing the love,
Speaking the name,
Calling the blessing
And lighting the flame.
Written 7/28/2016
Take the Dagger from my Heart, Please- Poetry Contest
sponsored by Broken Wing
N/A in Premiere Contest Number 5, Judged 8/27/2016
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2016
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Agnes Krampe Poem
The heron is the color
of a November morning.
Fog wets the river rocks.
Fossils faintly echo
a grey past.
I shall take one stone
home,
to look
through its waterworn hole
and perhaps
see
the future.
11/4/2017
For contest: Two Word Challenge
Sponsored by John Lawless
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2017
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Agnes Krampe Poem
I reach the edge of the woods
and glimpse
the summit:
high, far –
and daunting.
I must not look up too much,
for I might lose courage.
I need patience,
to string steps
on the thread of my breath
and trust
that I will arrive.
But every now and then, I shall pause
and look backwards
to see
how far I have come.
July 9, 2018
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2018
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Agnes Krampe Poem
I feel a sense of déjà vu as I listen
to the cacophony of voices:
dilettantes discussing poetry
under baroque chandeliers. Masquerading
as avant-garde writers or bona fide critics
(black turtlenecks; color is an anomaly and suspicious),
they claim carte blanche to spew
pompous platitudes,
pronounce entire oeuvres as lacking elan
while all they create is endless ennui.
1/22/2018
For contest: Contest: Ten Words Ten Lines 2
Sponsor: Silent One
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2018
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Agnes Krampe Poem
I learn to live
with the silence.
Thoughts echo
in the empty house.
I transform your room
into my space,
place
candles and shells
on the windowsill.
Your books are still
on the shelves –
old friends
who keep me
company
and speak of you.
August 13, 2018
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2018
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Agnes Krampe Poem
I dance upwards;
below me,
the waves slap the cliffs
and beat the rhythm.
Wind whipped clouds gallop
with flying manes
across the blue plain of the sky.
The wild geese resent
our intrusion;
honking displeasure,
they swoop a warning:
we are guests here.
Amid the cedar fragrance
of summer and freedom,
I lean back
into the arms of the world.
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2017
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Agnes Krampe Poem
Two black holes spiraled,
their dance
sent ripples
through the universe –
racing at speed of light
waves
warp spacetime.
A billion years later,
on a small planet,
laser beams zoom between mirrors,
capture the echo.
Einstein’s heirs
decode
the message.
10/3/2017
In honor of the scientists and engineers who contributed to the discovery of gravitational waves which was honored with the Nobel Prize in physics today
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2017
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Agnes Krampe Poem
Santa Barbara, Summer 2017
Monday
I walked on the bluffs above the sea.
Orange poppies bloom in the dunes.
I discovered
the labyrinth:
smooth stones spell the path.
Peaceful pilgrimage.
Tuesday
Walked on the beach and smelled:
Tar from the oil seeps,
fennel,
coastal sage,
eucalyptus.
And, of course, the sea.
Wednesday
Hiked in the foothills.
The grass is brittle and yellow;
the land sizzles.
Spiky shrubs, spiny scrub oak.
The chaparral is ready
to burst into flames.
Thursday
The eucalyptus trees
on Ellwood Mesa
are dying
from the drought.
Where will the butterfly sleep?
Friday
The sandpipers
hurry to the surf, neck forward,
to peck with long bills.
They scurry inland before the next wave
as if they are afraid
to get their feet wet.
Snowy plovers skitter
like cotton balls on wheels.
Saturday
The infinite ocean
under an infinite sky.
A white S among the reeds,
the egret can teach me
poise and patience.
Sunday
Found a piece of seaglass.
Translucent blue,
The edges smooth
Worn by water,
Sanded down.
Beauty from adversity.
I think I will write a poem about it.
November 1, 2017
For contest: From my Diary
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2017
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Agnes Krampe Poem
The cat rules our house, and she has us well trained:
We jump at the sound of her slightest complaint.
The day starts at six when I hear her loud cry,
Her pitiful wailing. I run to find why.
Queen passive-aggressive, she sits there and stares
Until I feel guilty. She silently glares.
I check on her food – only half full the dish!
I pour her fresh water. That wasn’t her wish;
She still has that look! In the bathroom I check:
The litter box maybe? Yes, there is a speck.
I scoop and I clean, and she, pleased, walks away—
She just wants it nice to use later today.
She squeezes right next to me onto my chair,
My pants and my sweater get covered in hair.
But she is so sweet and has such a soft fur,
And I like to stroke her, and hear her cute purr.
She made me become what I swore not to be:
The crazy cat lady- I think that is me.
January 3, 2018
For contest Crazy Cat Lady
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | Year Posted 2018
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