Tag: poem

The Storm – A New Poem

I tried to write a folk song
but I didn’t know enough people.
Now I’m left with broken strings
and a mangled, strangled heart.
*
Love should be the wings that rise us
above the muck and the mud.
But sometimes it carries us too far
and we are singed by the sun.
*
If my words have caused you harm
know that my intentions were pure.
But sometimes the only way forward
is to be baptized in the fire.
*
Perhaps it’s me who is wrong
and my hill is a lonely hill —
devoid of the olive trees
that once served us so well.
*
And sometimes the maze pops up around you
with walls so high they blot out the sun.
And you think to yourself that things will get easier
but in the darkness, you don’t know where to turn.
*
Still, change is necessary —
progress, the will of the world.
Those who block the path before us
must be shown the way.
*
And when you find yourself herded
by gatekeepers keeping score only they can see,
trust in the ones who know you best
but fight for the ones underfoot.
*
Heroes were created by the downtrodden
as a way to organize this life.
The real ones are not as they are in stories
because everyone has blood on their hands.
*
Silence is for the privileged
and something too expensive for most.
Our voices are our unique statement,
etching our souls onto the unfinished blueprint.
*
Our gazes will again meet
but will we still see ourselves in others?
Or will our eyes be glued shut,
handicapping us to what is real?
*
Yet, I would still wish to hear the song of songs —
of nature and life resilient.
The drums of war fading,
as that marching band is dismantled.
*
And this leaves us on shaky ground —
waiting and hoping and wishing and praying,
for the path to present itself
and rescue us from the storm.
*

A Lesson – A New Poem

With a full belly, I sit sated

Planning on how to better this world

I wonder if this notion is pure

Or simply pandering from my perch

*

The time to think through current events

Is luxury most cannot afford

Being Monday morn’ justice seekers

Intoxicates the privileged few

*

Better to be the man who listens

The one who yearns for understanding

That’s the man to make a difference

By removing himself from the stage

*

My Favorite Color – A New Poem

The color blue reminds me of my childhood
Of the cool ocean water crashing over me
As I laugh my way through summer on the coast
*
My mother and her mother pack sandwiches
And beach sandwiches are the best sandwiches
My mother’s mother’s mother fries up breakfast scrapple
As my brother and I wake in the attic
Our sleep, the best sleep, in military cots thirty years old
*
The sound of laughter and delightful screams
As us children chase each other around a seashell driveway
We take our meals on the screened-in porch
While the adults play cards into the night
We pilfer candy from a jar while everyone pretends not to notice
*
The color blue sends me back in time
And allows me to remember what matters most
We become immortal through our memories
*

Elemental — A New Poem

There’s nothing hungrier than a fire
A flame’s appetite is voracious
It consumes everything in sight
Leaving nothing but ash in its wake
*
It has a weakness in water
The cool and blue equalizer
Sniffing out flame like assassins
And the legacy, forgotten
*
When water and wind mix, no good comes
Together they play the destructor
With nothing but chaos on their minds
They smash and carve with unbridled ire
*
And so we turn to Mother Earth
We rebuild lives in her image
Yet we ignore the warning signs
As the death cycle goes again
*