Was it truly seven days
The path that produced truth
The Only Thing that isn’t
Too good to be true
Tag Archives: Poetry
Sinew’s Counsel
Does your heart muscle remember
How it let go
Do you recollect
Those times you’ve freely relinquished
Or not wanting to release, did as much?
Account here your every sinew’s wisdom
Every neuron’s path
There is more of this road to trod
Hellish and unrelenting
Only hope will walk it
And I see footprints
But are they my own, making headway
Falling back
Lost?
I welcome your words
Teach my ears, my eyes, my fingers, my heart
How to let go
After The Education
I did not just now
See
Did I
In my peripheral
With my two tired eyes
A guy strum slow down the sidewalk
With a cello
My very favorite
This time it saddened me, though
For it caused his back to bow
Under the weight of it
When he’d certainly have preferred
To reach
And pluck
The new tulips along his path instead
She Knows
As sure as she stands
Having stopped running
And with a shortness of breath
Her wallowing ends here
A lesser woman
Would be smiling by now
At the thug long gone
In the rear view mirror
He’ll not admit
She is as good as gold
Like the flecks in her true green eyes
He tastes her pureness still
Currency
This second
Gone now
gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
Grab another
Hold dear all you now hold
hold, hold, hold, hold, hold
You’ve now cause to pause
But not your breath
breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe
Release the plaguing
Steal sight of this time’s shine
shine, shine, shine, shine, shine
Three Years Back
I wonder if we could be old friends
Going forward
Coming back
From the brink of what was then new
Familiar though
As déjà vu
Are we what was, just now predicted?
We Once Knew
Oh, woe is this world
And all it has committed
Against the oh-so other-worldly
Tell it now, what shall I tell it
To the pure child’s untarnished mind
To my lover’s knowing heart
un-titled
How dare you shame the wildflower
And hush nightingale song
What cause have you to tame the fox
And call today too long
Condemned you are to monotone
Without a voice to vote
Whilst gazing outward, castled king
Imprisoned by your mote
Edna
Protecting
For far too long
I’ve been
Believing
My heart’s blind eyes
I am
Admitting
The scared soul’s mine
I’ll be
Defying
A pain-filled chain
I’m free
August’s Hell
He doesn’t run
From
The Sun
Or the Father or Daughter
Mother or Wife
Or Himself
He runs
To
Them
As if he’s on fire
And in need
Of their sweet, sweet rain