Category: Poems

Sentimental Sunday: The Prettiest of Ponds

The frightened pheasant flutters
Flying in a burst
Startled by the panting fox
Who came to quench her thirst

The female fox is furrowed
Shorter are her days
Lacking will and drive to hunt
On eggs and fruit she’ll graze

A fearful fish feels furtive
Peering at the shore
His gills grow still and silent
For he’s met a fox before

The frog floats on a flower
Singing strong and proud
From time to time he nabs a bug
From the thick and buzzing cloud

The flies all flit and fumble
Done in by graceless genes
You could say they move swift
Though more akin to a careen

The flourishing fans of ferns
Reach widely with their fronds
They add their rich green hues
To this, the prettiest of ponds

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OZ

Heirlooms of the good old days

Bring us closer to our infancy

Though carefree and easy

Memories lack consistency

 

When our world was but a playground

We were fresh in our naiveté

But soon a jarring moment

Makes us see things in another way

 

No more do we skip about

And smile at every stranger

The Technicolor fades a bit

Once introduced to danger

 

It’s then that we begin our course

Of trying to return

To the days we spent in sunlight

Without seeming e’er to burn

 

We suffer through the cyclone

Of an unforgiving world

Hoping one day we’ll reemerge

A windswept little girl

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Bounty

Tread upon a hopeful path

And count your every step

It will do your soul no good

To run ‘til out of breath

 

Savor the soil underneath

Enjoy the things it feeds

See the wonder in the dirt

That houses what you need

 

Sip the stream that’s running by

The path on which you walk

Let its coolness comfort you

And notice how it talks

 

Seek the shade beneath the trees

And spend some moments with them

They have witnessed generations

They are ripe with wisdom

 

Count the flowers and the leaves

Enjoy their luscious blooms

Notice that they still will grow

wherever there is room

 

Remember that the sun’s a star

With its warmth and light

Its elements are inside you

And always shining bright

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Ancient Systems

The creaking sway of trees

Restless in the gusting wind

The rattling of leaves

The cold has heartlessly done in

 

A shiver starts to emanate

Straight from my modest spine

More alone than e’re before

Amidst sounds undefined

 

Some phantom creature scrambling

Clung to a brittle bark

The sky is throwing shadows

To welcome in the dark

 

The obdurance of nature

Plainly can be felt

An organic sort of savagery

Coldly cleanly dealt

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The Legend of Her

There was a legend

Lost to the ages

Before the time

Of quills and pages

 

Surely though

There was a maiden

Who bore an axe

Who was armor laden

 

Many urged her

Toward a gown

But by her blade

Foes were cut down

 

A champion

No one expected

N’er heralded

Or genuflected

 

Just a maiden

And her skill

I hope she knows

I dream her still

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Prey

A feral form of fantasy

A strength n’er seen before

Wild with wanting, willfully

This being comes for more

 

Crushing calm creatively

Like reading through your weakness

Baffled by its blasphemy

Enamored by its sleekness

 

A victim voluntarily

For it is n’er resisted

Allure allows amenity

That’s just how it’s persisted

 

Enveloped in entirety

For it looms each place you look

Patronized by piety

As it sweetly sinks its hooks

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Larceny

Drawn ever so close

I empty of breath

It feels just like love

The passion, the depth

 

The pieces absconded

Now rest within you

But just how they got there

We both never knew

 

A seeming completion

To all that was absent

The whole of fulfillment

Not typical fragments

 

Yet with them you sauntered

Right on to the next

Leaving me as a ruin

A permanent wreck

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Sentimental Sunday: Frozen in the Dregs of Dreams

My mind will reel
My heart will pound
Each time my mind
Begins the sounds

The terror thuds
within my chest
It plagues my mind
Fresh from its rest

My fingers long
To claw the air
To thrash out at
The monster there

Sometimes escapes
A gasping cry
My tightening throat
So raw and dry

Powerless
I lie in wait
No way to fight
this looming fate

With certainty
This is the end
Then suddenly
I move again

The fear subsides
And all is well
Except those moments
Spent in hell

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Capturing Words

There’s a certain spectacular

Form of vernacular

Saved for the starriest eyes

 

Full of extremities

Grammatic obscenities

Elitists can’t help but decry

 

Through emotions abundance

We fight the redundant

Needing to move past the balcony

 

The heavens compiled

Mastery of the wild

Like some sort of linguistic falconry

 

Minds carried away

Hearts thrust on display

With words placed in new combinations

 

A scurrilous storm

Always changing its form

That we chase in our own desperation

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Capitulation

Upon knees we cry and pray and hide

When it hurts too much to keep inside

When shrinking  is our best defense

And begging is our recompense

 

Submission is our greatest plan

When dying draws so close to hand

Using backs as our final shield

Reliant on the spine we wield

 

Balling up to blot it out

Muffling the pain we shout

Bowing down to our greatest pain

Still hoping to get up again

 

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