The silence doesn’t help much to keep my ears from bleeding.
So why not leave the torrent sound alone, it will not change the pain I’m feeling.
All at once I forget and then the same remember,
It returns full vengeance every bleak September.
A clear sky, a .44,
Was the cause I’m blaming. For
This sound, after all these years,
Still this cursed ringing in my ears.
Posted in Personal
Tagged bleeding, clear, ear, gun, poem, poetry, ringing, September, sky, sound, tinnitus, years
Water in vain tries to take hold of sand.
The ocean foolishly tries to claim the land.
“Come back to me.” he says to her,
The ocean to the shore.
“A little while longer.”
She answers in reply.
“When our mother in her great blanket,
Warms above: the skies,
Then we shall be much closer,
Our love. You and I.”.
Posted in Nature
Tagged blanket, closer, earth, hold, land, mother, ovean, poem, poetry, sand, shore, skies, sky, warm, water
I hold a once-life
It shall remain here sleeping.
Resting in my hand
It gave its breath keeping,
Its heat to give back,
Its heart nevermore beating.
The wings no longer carry
Its small form into the sky
It simply lays here
I held a once-life and it remains there dreaming.
Posted in Life and death
Tagged beating hold, bird, dream, fly, heat, held, nevermore, poem, poetry, sky, sleep, wing
Shall he remain fallen cold, buried here?
The various pains of living follow him.
And waking up to a grey sky so clear,
A midday light beyond the moon grows dim.
They were followed here, this is nothing new.
They know better than this untrodden path.
Before them, those that followed, they were few,
Fewer still who returned. Dim: this light past.
After they will break as water on rock,
They will scatter as shadows in the light.
Here the new headstones do nothing to block.
Various pains drive residents to flight.
I’ll dream of things unspoken, rest undone,
In my shallow sleep gift under the sun.
Posted in Sonnets
Tagged buried, dim, fallen, follow, grey, Moon, pain, path, poem, poetry, rest, shadow, sky, sleep, sun
A house of dust and feathers flown,
In an unforgiving wind, too long alone.
A murder of crows jealously guard what they cannot have,
A flock of sparrows, to better fields, fly at long last.
Its weathered wood does not look above to the pale blue sky,
Indifferent clouds do not look down as they float by.
If we ask, these walls might tell of tales past long ago.
A voice on the wind then whispers: “We may never know.”
Thanks to my friend Carole D. For permission to use her photo.
Posted in Nature
Tagged bird, birdhouse, blue, cloud, crow, feathers, field, fly, house, poem, poetry, sky, sparrow, tale, wall, weathered, wind, wood
Her skies have darkened just as times before,
Only now she’s not haunted by the night.
Gazed upon the ocean, yet stayed ashore,
Her tired excuse: the fading of days light.
She was born on this rock it’s enough to
Die on. Knowing there is more she arose.
In this way those years ashore she’ll undo;
Leaving her rock, to reflect what she’s chose.
She may fall down or be crushed by the waves,
Many times she’ll face the risk of drowning.
No matter the end this is how she’ll behave,
Always she’ll arise from floundering.
I only know this because she survived,
And from her example my hope revived.
Posted in Personal, Sonnets
Tagged arise, arose, ashore, behave, drown, Fall, hope, night, ocean, poem, poetry, revive, rise, rock, she, shore, skies, sky, sonnet, survive, waves
I climb above clouds
Still can see no greater thing
Than what was below
To ascend to heights. Almost
Was hidden gold missed
I go below clouds
There is no gold in the sky
I’ll love what I have.