stars whisper
snow twinkles respond
trees slumber
Tag: public domain
And That, Was That.
I looked upon your face again,
I saw the face I loved.
I saw the person I no longer knew.
I closed the door.
And that, was that.
Clouds Are Never Lonely
Do clouds get lonely? Do they weep,
When they stray from the storm?
Does the dresser drawer squeak
To mourn the stand from whence it was stripped?
Are the fish missing their chums
If sharks attack to split the school?
Sheep will bleat, the wolf will howl,
During detachment from their flock or pack.
Loneliness creeps in and settles like a fog.
“I thought I saw her breathing”
Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall
Her chest should be like an empire — rise and fall.
But lungs no longer expand; no heart beats.
Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum
The heart-drum should count off the cadence.
But no pulsing thrum, no sigh of exhalation.
And yet, I thought I saw her breathing in the mist upon the glass.
Missing Someone
Alone, my thoughts, my fears envelop me.
Awake, asleep, at work — without you there.
I reminisce; the memories abound,
True, some have fled, but eyes yet see your face;
I still can smell your hair — your scent — your tea.
Lovely Humanity
Look around, it’s easy to see
the worst parts of humanity.
You hear them spew hatred and fears,
suicide stories; few shed tears.
Hiding behind a shield of brass
makes it easy to kick some ass.
Now look again, more closely still:
see those who stand; sheer force of will.
I Got Your Back; Hands Up Don’t Shoot!
All of us share a common root.
A wall of love, support and trust.
So stand we all together must!.
There are no lesser people here
It’s time to put away your fear.
Be Where My Feet Are
Wherever I might go today;
It does not matter if I stay
Or walk or run or step in stride;
You come along; you’re right beside.
Wherever my two feet might land,
If tucked away or in my hand;
My phone ensures that in the end,
You are my omnipresent friend.
Until
Everything lasts “until”…
Iron rusts to dust,
Glass shatters to shards,
The Titanic met an iceberg.
Everything eventually expires.
Love, Life, Laughter.
Yes, everything expires.
Cold, Gold, and Mold.
So hold on to the precious… “until”
But know that even the pain will pass.
Effortless
studying Picasso I suddenly empathize
with those whom I generally criticize.
“stop pretending art is hard.”
“stop pretending. art is hard.”
artists make it seem so effortless
to craft a scene with cleverness.
“stop pretending art is hard.”
“stop pretending. art is hard.”
but when the truth is full well told
it takes some work to change shit to gold.
Myriad
My mind jumps to the cliché;
“Possibilities” and “endless” spring to my head unbidden.
Explore it more; think of the … DAMN! more clichés leap into view!
“Choices”, “Options”, “Possibilities” … no, No, NO!
a myriad of stars in the heavens…
the grains of sand on a beach,
NO! I will not use these trite clichés.
The problem presents itself as a solution:
There simply are not a myriad of ways
to conjure words to discuss the feelings “myriad” evokes.