Archive for the ‘free verse poetry’ Category

As the vinca in bloom

So is the variety of familial

Love, so true, so bright

Multicolored, but sharing

The same veiny leaves, green

We don’t do so well in shade

Let the rays pour down!

A monsoon of light, living brightness

And, as the sun patiens in the pot

Out base, our roots go out into the soil

The rich, textured, moist granules

Of our tiny little home

Wake up, oh sun!

Infuse us with life!

We will comb the breadth of totality

Here comes the bridegroom

In radiance, from the nineteenth chapter

Until now, as the child digs a hole

It matters not where we are planted

So long as there’s light, and the crystalline liquid

Of love

The sun (the Son)

The soil (the home)

The light (the Light)

The seed (the bloom)

The death (the birth)

Advertisements

Cycle

Birth death renewal and I can’t breathe

I’ve lost my light I dropped my torch inside

This vacant

Tunnel

I search for trouble

Cause at least then I would feel something

Inside

I’ve looked for years

With empty eyes

What’s dark in me won’t you

Illumine

It’s all my fault we all lose our way

Stretch out your hands and keep the wraiths at bay

I

Can’t

Find my way through this damned labyrinth

I’m

Running out of thread

I

Won’t

Find my way I’ll say the Hell with it

I’m on the verge of giving in

I’ve tried it all

Chased vanity

I’ve looked for calm

But it always strays (tossed by the waves)

It’s not my fault that you’ve lost your way

Stretch out your hands and keep the demons at bay

I

Can’t

Find my way through this damned labyrinth

I’m

Running out of thread

I

Won’t

Find my way I’ll say the Hell with it

I’m on the verge of giving in

I hope someone up there

Can save me

That’s what everybody says

I plead are you up there

So save me

I need to pray for someone else

Save me

(These are lyrics to a heavy metal song I’m recording)

The extremely awesome journal known as The Poet’s Haven Digest has published one of my poems, “So Prays the Pray” in one of their anthology collections. Over 40 amazing writers contributed to this issue, “Darker Than Fiction”, with stories and poems centering on real life murder, crime, and evil…the sad truth that our world is even more vicious than the movies. My poem is an ode to victims. Please check out their website, buy a copy, and check out the other collections they have to offer. It’s all very quality work.

Poet’s Haven: Darker Than Fiction

A beginning

A genesis, inception…

The germination of nothing less than our own hearts

And here, amid the sweet, ambrosial scent of rain

And the Pitter patter of a tiny car mechanic

We realize ambitions

Our hearts, our minds, and even our pens work as one

And the art –

The special, idyllic innovations created by a hybridized heart –

Yes, that art will speak for ourselves

One of the best poems I’ve ever read. If you’ve ever lost somebody, you would love this. Check it out!

PlumbRose


Bright Beauty,

A woman from dust whose skin is pale.

She sat at the edge of a tree,

With her wings spread far.

She was placed in a white robe.

Her smile was enchanting.

It would send cascades of hope to you.

But if you gazed upon her eyes

They would capture you,

Pulling you fast into a new world

Where they say it is more real than here.

A place where she says our Father lives.

She reads words from His book and tells me

“It is beyond comprehension.

That no eye has seen,

That no ear has heard.”

His words pounded like thunder through my ears.

……….

As I looked at Her hair (it was long and blonde),

She left behind a shadow

That cast her legacy.

It swallowed me up

In a mixture of dark suffering.

I fell onto a path that had been laid out for…

View original post 461 more words

She had a GREAT time lol

The sky

Started out murky

Like the water below

Sans the reflections

Slowly,

The pillows of white moisture

Dissipated

To reveal a small, yellow star

(But large from our perspective)

That shined down upon a family

Who did nothing but eat, play, and love

But were renewed by the joy

And glued together

Even closer

And yes, the child did actually have fun.

I stumbled upon a wood

A transparent Grove with silver lined trees

At the behest of my master, Mother Instinct

Mister Self

This bio-spiritual entity

That seeks its own comfort

and that of none other

The trees were shining,

With the voluptuous Fruit of Folly

Dangling from their jagged arms

And the grass sparkled

I was filled with longing

But upon touching these things

And seeking the fruit

My phalanges passed through them

As they would through mountain air

Mister Self…Mother of Feeling…

For what reason have you led me here?

I’m sick of writing

About the sorrows

Possessed by either myself

Or this dreary rainbow we call a world

That still manages to be colorful…

if a bit faded

My issues?

I’m disgusted at even thinking them

I am blessed beyond my station

Things I don’t deserve

Which are taken away from better,

More deserving souls

Why does the wicked (I) succeed in his way?

I play the victim

Like a secondhand fiddle with broken strings

And a tape recorder in my back pocket

Producing a melody as I strut and fret upon the roof

But it’s all a lie

I am not a victim.

I am a glutton, spoiled

Victims are heroes

They are beautiful souls

Loved and protected now, at last

Gods and goddesses they’ve become

Glistening in the heavenly realms

Put there by hate

It seems so cliche

But I think common cliche is crystal truth

That we should seek two things, and two only

The joy of those (Above and) around us

And the joy of ourselves

This is the whole of the law

And if we take these strides…

If I take these basic steps

We will heal the world

Honor the loves who were taken

And prevent more being snatched away

Make this rainbow bright again

Connections are made

Microscopic conscience

The mechanized soul

 

I see goodness

I witness the coming together

Of souls, minds, ideas

 

But are the thoughts our own?

 

Perhaps not for long

When, through hunks of metal

Consciousness is duplicated

 

Does the soul exist?

If we can, in fact, create it?

Your network–

Streaming doubt into my veins

There are ghosts, surrounding…

 

They are data. They are bytes

Bytes and bots–

As the Spirit of God is breathed over the waters

And as the wind moves reality

We know not, we see not

Where the invisible originates

 

These thoughts are cliche

Familiar, but it’s true

Not science fiction

The noise…

These irritants, obstacles

Always judging

Always looking down

The noises don’t know a thing about me

I am not a skinny, useless, fatal wraith

I am not what the mirror tells me

Cast your line,

Receive a nibble, hook nothing

It doesn’t matter

If I run out of line,

I’ll just use some damn shoestring

We have no peace….why?

I think I figured it out

Without sound

Without reflective glass

and without turbulence

This boat would be very boring

So rock it some more

I know how to swim

And if I fail

At least this little boat

Will become a luxury liner