storm

Persisent Skies

Folder: 
Beauty

 

With every drip and every drop

The sky cries down in seclusion

Searching for eyes to notice

Blue skies, the ultimate illusion

 

She screams to the silence

A thunderous noise that carries

Her wounded longing call,

Thirsty eyes, she’d marry

 

Her rolling clouds distract

From the storm brewing inside

Trying to disguise her feelings

But no longer can they hide

 

The winds gain spiteful speed

Her furious winds circle round

Lifting heads and hearts

Wreaking havoc on the ground

 

All her stars she wished upon

Faded into crumbling ashes

A dying desire for affection

That only ended in her lashes

 

As the gloomy madness concludes

Her vibrate blues come to play

Covering up her sadness

To unleash on another day

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A dying star hoping to get a glimpse of the sun.

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I Walk An Endless Road

I walk endless an road

locked into a heavy load

Of these questions and fears

Gripping from it's unreasonable tears

 

As a car roars by

I look dead into it's light

Wondering where it leads

But just like that it's gone

just like another day

As I wake up to the sun's harsh light

 

I try not to look back

As I attempt to fill this crack

Of this hurt and wonder

Unstoppable, a storm of rain and thunder

 

As a car roars by

I look dead into it's light

Wondering where it leads

But just like that it's gone

just like another night

As I stay up to the moon's hypnotic might

wailing undertones

Folder: 
Nature / Folder 1

 

............

 

 

dimly lit skies, and a dewey, warm waft of air

saturates my skin with breezy atmospheric breath,

in the distance, dark luminous clouds frame the skyline,

like a syndicate of angry politicians after an unfulfilled mutiny,

scathingly awaiting a liberating reprise.

 

clusters of dark grey sheets loom 

behind multiple satiny sheer curtains of microbursts

that frolick beyond the parched brush,

and far away, a crescendo of rumbling chaotic warnings

can be heard, but it's arrival is unknown

and the length of it's stopover a mystery.

 

still, i am confident as i witness it all,

my mind's eye knowing of the sun's 

flirtatious collaborations 

in this dramatic dance 

of nature's undertones of fury,

and await the show with anticipation.

 

as i pull in the driveway i hear

the expected yelping 

of a 70 pound red heeler/sharpei mix,

his keen aural senses in a tizzy.

 

7:31 PM 7/21/13 ©

 

 ................

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(ok--he's really 98 lbs. but i was thinking he would have been mad at me if i put that in a poem--we're on a diet lol)

 

Expanding here upon the magnificence of power nature has over us. That there will always be something or someone that has power over us---of that we have only left, a choice of how to perceive it---and that our inner strength of character and faith, during those moments, is really all we have left in the face of any fear, no matter how overwhelming. 

:-)

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thrown under the bus

nowadays all she does is whine about her bodily pains,

but when you were left alone, 

she stayed drunk, prowling the bars

days on end, 

oblivious to the emotional wreckage left

on your chest, like a hot iron

melted through the tender heart of a 10 year old,

the open wound to the 

skin, 

cauterized shut

too soon,

without even leaving any open flesh

for the pain to be released,

seared closed with the shame, pain, and false pride of generations,

sealed in for years like a safety box of magnets,

pulling you towards anything and everything self-destructive

in a desperate search for some morsel of hope,

that the next christmas dinner might be more than 

knocking on the doors of neighbors, being lucky enough to be

asked in to share a holiday meal, 

and an attempt to be noticed for something other than the burden

you were to her deep and fervent longing for 

the escape, into smoke filled rooms,

that reeked with the heavy, putrid smell of week-old frying grease,

cigarettes, and hairspray, that became one of your main

reasons for going to live with your dad--

other than the day she up and left for california,

a 50 dollar bill to substitute her mac and cheese, dribbled with 

one and a half inches of ashes off a pall mall,

only to be less than reluctantly welcomed by him,

and a stepbrother who most always was 

notably more worthy of better dirtbikes, nicer clothes 

and a much more frequent pat on the back 

for a job well done, 

that most often wasn't.

 

a dollar for him and quarter for you, along with the bottom bunk,

that smelled like pee from all the years he wet the bed,

only ever good enough for sloppy seconds--

and then there was brownie,

poor broken down swayback, with skin infections,

baldspots and degenertive bone disease,

in light of your brother's black stallion stud,

as if the 6 inch scar on the back of your leg wasn't enough 

from your father's drunken rage with a 4 inch hunting knife,

and the glass from the window that left it's souvenir the night he threw you

across the room, all before the age of 14.

 

shit.

i may have shot that horse between the eyes too.

 

 

 

 

11:37 PM 6/26/2013

©

 

 

.........

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just a poem about a kid.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=

 

.....

storms

The sky is grey,
The rain starts to fall,
I hear you call,
But I am not going to stay,
I hear the thunder start to roar,
The storm is rolling in,
The tears are rolling down your chin,
What are we fighting for?
The lighting starts to strike,
The rain is pounding on the side walk,
I tried to talk,
We both know what pain is like,
The wind is blowing,
People are running for cover,
I know you were a good lover,
But I must get going,
The rain begins to stop,
The sky starts to be clear,
Its time to move on dear,
I must get my life back on top,

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Sweet euphoria

so enticed by your own suffering..

it keeps coming back around.. 

just when you think you're standing up, you get pushed down.

you wonder, but why bother..

 

I know what that feels like... 

to be swallowing dirt, with your face planted into the ground..

your mind is in constant crucifixion..

you can't look at the clouds, & know the sun is behind it.. 

 

the hands of time move in circles...

quality is not quantity.. 

tomorrow is not today.

 

if this storm hovers over me,

if it fucking pours down on me,

for all eternity..

raindrops will glisten through my eyes.. 

you'll see I never tried to hide.. 

 

because the rain can bring out our true colors,

when given the chance to pass..

I will walk along a street of rainbows,

while the past burns, & falls to ash.. 

 

my heart says not to turn, & walk away.. 

but so badly it yearns to fly, & just escape..

oh, Sweet Euphoria..

 

Bad Luck

Folder: 
Nature Poems

8' O clock
Knock Knock
Rain tapping
Lightning snapping
Thunder breathing under

Pat pat
See that cat?
It forgot its rain hat
It's a world full of bad luck

Pour pour
Lighting soar
There's no where to hide anymore
Bad luck forevermore

Roar roar
Thunder at my clammy door
Shake me, break me
Give me the bad luck

What bad luck!
I am stuck!

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"Seraphim's Lament"

Folder: 
My Work

Judgment proclaims
that blood must be shed,
Wrath is a flame,
ruby dance of red.
Holiness can gaze,
only with Righteous eyes.
Worship and praise
continually rise.
In twain they are covered,
by feathers of Light.
Forever to hover
in the realm of His Sight,
Terrible Vision
that can strike you blind,
split-second decision
that will melt your mind.
Caught in the storm
created for Pleasure,
their wings will keep warm
their most adored Treasure.
Angelic beings
with Godlike desire.
Drawn from the dreams
of Elijah’s fire.
Whispers of nightmares,
birthed from stray stars.
Calculated diamond stare,
machines made for war.
Hiding each awful face,
from a Most Holy Throne,
from Adonai’s Secret Place
they guard His Presence, alone.
No human could conceive
their purpose or His plan;
standing ready, to receive,
His nod or sleight command.
Though human sight cannot behold
this terrifying art;
you cannot weigh in silver or gold,
the radiant love in His Heart.
The gift that He has given to me;
in this earthen disguise,
Seraphim frozen by what they see,
His Reflection, in my eyes..

Author's Notes/Comments: 

In the secret realm of the Most High....

Color

The coming storm,

is of the color of your eyes.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

None

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