Leaves torn from branches by early October’s wind flutter about, scraping over stone and brush. Fraying at their reddish fringes, occasionally they stick and I swear I can see them gasping – if only for a moment – to catch their breath before their tortured dance continues. I find that I am cheering for them, [...]
Archive for November, 2009
Autumn
Posted in 1, tagged autumn, fall on November 21, 2009 | 2 Comments »
J.T.B.
Posted in My Poetry on November 9, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
I wrote this after the passing of my best friend, who will always have a special place in my heart. Tears and marble, Incense sweeping upward to kiss The stained glass face of God Himself, Your life feels as present as the clothes We wear. Yet we are worn. Boys no longer, we have [...]
Under the Harvest Moon
Posted in Works of Other Writers, tagged Carl, harvest moon, Sandburg on November 8, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over garden , Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the red , Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, [...]
Prophet
Posted in My Poetry, tagged armageddon, prophet, violence, war on November 8, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Peace is ever failing. Swords clenched in fists, Dark whispers are their deadline. Choking on ashes we have yet to create, the Seer trembles as cobalt fades above us. Verdant canvas violated by boot polish; brush strokes the stomping of the march.
Compassion
Posted in My Poetry, tagged compassion, pain, poetry on November 8, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
A girl cries because the snow won’t melt. Shimmering icicles drip their tears only for awhile, then the cold makes them live longer. She manages a smile through the pain of a chill and digs in deeper, for the next wave only promises to be stronger. Father never gave, mother was blind. A young tree [...]
Construction
Posted in My Poetry, tagged loss, love, misunderstanding, poetry, walls on November 8, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
I fear we are yelling through walls. Sweet absolution muffled by plaster and wood. Reconciliation lost if we cannot punch through. The very beat that pushes blood through your veins reverberates in the floor, and I remove my shoes to feel closer to you. I would lay there but they will not let me. This [...]
-
Recent Comments
jmhumphrey on Making Sense Ric on Making Sense bcvegas3 on … jmhumphrey on Empty Thomas Braga on About
