Tag: poetry

Dark

would you clap in delight
when the lights go out,
or would you cower in darkness
afraid to take a single step?

would you cry in despair
believing all was lost,
or pass the time in reflection
recalling the blessings of night?

would you dance in place
swaying with abandon
or collapse in a heap of despair
forever changed by the absolute?

 

After I published this post a friend and fellow writer, Janie Christie Heniford, pointed out that the quote attributed to Galileo is instead from a poem (below) by Sara Williams. Thanks Janie! 

Though my soul may set in darkness,
It will rise in perfect light.
For I have loved the stars too fondly
To be fearful of the night.–Sara Williams

Watching Rain

swift darkness descends
in the middle of the day
thunder follows hush.

deep in the forest
lightning scorches mighty oak
searing stricken arms.

once thunder crashes
still silence pulsates with rage
nature’s violence

anticipation,
exhilaration, and fear
fill glorious storm

tapering rainfall
arrhythmic beats signal end
skies lightening soon.

  

Make it Stop!

Random melodies
Play leapfrog with each other
Vying for notice

  
Ear worm go away
My mind has had enough now
I’m going insane

Just Bummed Out

when life seems unfair
and no deed goes unpunished
don’t despair, just breathe.

 
bummed out again, friend?
discard all of those worries
just throw them away.

  

tell me your troubles
then leave them far behind you.
don’t wallow; just live.

 

Red Stapler

a photo of you
sits next to a red stapler
on top of my desk.

every morning
i touch my lips to your lips
captured under glass.

it’s a cold, spare kiss
no warmth exchanged in the act;
only memories.

  

Slipping Away

i talk to myself
hoping to
unknot persistent
ideas that
repeatedly careen
around the
smooth cornerless
contours of my mind
like a bird against a
pane wanting in,
even if they die
in the process.

mixed media art by Alex Cherry

Recall Haiku

can you remember
that time we danced through the night?
no? neither do I.

  
wear a reminder
on your left hand ring finger
of all we’ve been through.

  
i cannot recall
the last time you held me close
perhaps i am old.

  

Temper Temper

rage boils, surface deep
rising past the release valve
scalding all in reach.

damn it all to hell!
bursts of scathing words exchanged;
none retractable.

prayers for patience
seemingly go unanswered
temper lost again.

  

Going the Distance

Marathoners tell 

of surviving the long race; 

going the distance.

  

Pour me a tall glass

Of Chardonnay and watch me

Go my own distance.

  

For I will never

Compete in a marathon,

But just watch me drink.

  

Peace, People!