Is there time?

Lost upon a path
Shadowed by fear, uncertainty
Feeling forgotten and alone,
Wondering, wondering
Is there time?

Seeing, yet not touching
Hearing, but not speaking
Feeling, yet not finding, that kindred soul.
Wondering, wondering
Is there time?

Memories masked with anger
Some made not at all.
Have we crossed that threshold?
Wondering, wondering
Is there time?

I shall remember
broken with age
love bittersweet
Wondering, wondering
Is there time?

What Happened?

1366-768-84478What happened?
What happened to those times when laughter came so easily?
I don’t have it much anymore.
It doesn’t come from deep within.
No,
not like it used to.
What happened?

I feel it has been the roads which I’ve chosen.
Those byways of connections,
Loves which were lost,
Memories not made,
Times which should be forgotten.
What happened?

It happened.
This happened.
Life happened.

Sadness.
An emotion which is so difficult to erase.
A heart which refuses to mend.
A soul which can’t find that laughter,
not like it used to know.
Back when this woman wore pig tails,
carefree, wild, untamed.
Running through the saw grass.
What happened?

Life opened its burden,
plunged it deep within,
budded its flawed flower,
shrugged its shoulders unsparingly.

What happened?
Where is this laughter?
It is torn,
shredded,
marred,
obliterated.
Life consumed it all.

Down by the meadow
In a darken forest floor,
there was a little man,
who lived in the ancient oak of lore.
I visited him in my childhood,
talked with him at great lengths.
He always made me laugh
at the tales of fairy dance.
But as the days grew shorter,
and winter set in,
I found I did not visit him
not as much as then.

It was by chance the other day,
as I walked with my children
that we came upon the meadow
and the darkened forest floor.
The trees were not as green,
not as young as I remember.
And there I saw hanging
through twisted vine, the little broken frame.
The ancient oak decayed,
its branches dead and white.
And my little friend was no longer,
as such was my youthful ways.

The Yielding

The Yielding

I have yielded
Yet,
against my will.
The light which now guides me
is not my own.
Sweet death,
Sweet bird,
carry my news to the kingdom.
Their prince,
their King,
has succumbed to darkness.
Who shall lead them?
Who shall show compassion now?
Fly little bird, fly far.
Find thy knight.
Seek him who does not sleep.
Only then will the beast be bated,
his jaws set,
the teeth imprisoned.

Should We Fall

Should We Fall

The cry is heard, upon the ramparts.
Ships on the horizon!!
Hurry men, gather weapons.
the enemy’s wind is behind them.
Should we fall, we fall with honor,
for our hearts are brave and true.
The King has mustered all his kingdom
and set upon it his fire for life.
Should we fall, we fail ourselves.
Tis time to test our resolve
as dragons soar the sky, and
goblins set the cannons.
Should we fall, we fall tonight
for tomorrow’s dawn sees only the victor.

Butterfly wingsIt’s been awhile since I’ve had a chance to write creatively.  Too much politics and world stuff have gotten the attention of this blog lately; it’s time to get back to basics.  Heard from our agent today.  She said she is going to start doing some gentle nudging.  🙂

BETWEEN US AND THEM

Who created this line?

between us and them.

Who made up the rules

this separation.

We have the same heart beat,

walk the same way,

our skin may be different,

our language not quite the same,

so who said,

it’s between us and them.

Was it the politicians, the government

our religion?

Did we not come from the same parents?

the same DNA?

Who was that person, that very first one?

Who created these words?

Between Us and Them.

Poetry Day: Between Us and Them

Today’s is Poetry Day – “Hell”

This little poem was published in the Young Harris College’s yearly publication (2010-2011) “Corn Creek Review.”  This was written about a dark time in my life, a time which makes me grateful for the blessings and light which now shower over me.

Hell

I lived there once.

It was pleasant,

not too hot,

not too cold.

I lived there once.

Finding my light turned to dark.

Seeking nothing but green.

Leading to nothing but black.

I lived there once.

With strangers and shapeless faces.

Their essence stinking,

like the soured smell of bar beer spilled on the floor.

I lived there once.

Where friends died daily.

Either from too much,

Or not enough.

Hell, I lived there once.