A Poem of No NamesGood night to the skyA Poem of No Names3 weeks ago in Free Verse
with its many years
a friend to the clouds with their
sweet pure tears
good night to the stars
who dance at night
aglow and avast , what a lovely show
Good night to the moon
with your dull glow
see you in the morning
as the sun says
Love (3)we are trees,Love (3)3 days ago in Free Verse
with intertwined roots
split in the middle,
branches eternally bowed
towards the earth,
twigs stretched out
towards the sky
as if calling out
to the world,
as if the world,
from its wayward heart
CaliforniaMy father was San Francisco and my mother, the Pacific;California1 week ago in Free Verse
at five I was in love with nine-lane highways, the scent of
eucalyptus pressed between my fingers, yellow parchment
hills crumpled up under the eye of the sun. If I had a sunset
to myself I would curl up on a park bench like the hippies do,
and eavesdrop on the sea lions’ bedtime conversations.
Alcatraz never quite unbarred me and yet I have found
freedom in hills steep as my shoulders; I know that I am
beautiful even in the rain because I have kissed the smoke
of Berkeley and tasted her on my teeth. I was born to
dangle my legs over Golden Gate Bridge and of course,
of course I would jump – not to fall, but to fly.
Cherry BlossomUnder a Cherry Blossom,Cherry Blossom1 month ago in Free Verse
The flowers do fall,
They look lovely as the wind tosses them,
To and fro they fly,
And when the blossoms die
The wind cries,
Because the wind loves the blossom,
It wants to show their beauty to the world.
The wind caresses them like cotton.
And as they turn rotten,
The wind will mourn them,
Gone but never forgotten.
Peace at lastThe wind brushes the whips of my willow.Peace at last3 weeks ago in Free Verse
In its large branches I sit.
For once not feeling like shit.
Drawing breath not feeling hallow.
With my love in my arms I become whole.
Just her and I, just us relaxed.
In the willow.
Morning GloryMorning glory,Morning Glory3 weeks ago in Free Verse
How do you still bloom
After the first cold night?
How do you still find the sun
After being covered in frost,
And all other colors have vanished?
Your brilliant burgundy
Opens wide to the world,
Embracing each day whole-heartedly.
Your end is inevitable,
The frigid snow is approaching,
And yet you only seek the sun's rays.
I thought the icy wind would leave you
Withered and colorless,
Until three more blooms appeared.
Your strength persists,
Your beauty brightens each day,
And when you are buried in white,
I look forward to your return come spring.
WinterA good kind of bitter,Winter1 month ago in Free Verse
A nice sort of cold,
On thin ice we skitter,
In winter uncontrolled,
Wind that be biting,
Wind that be icy,
Ever so exciting,
Life turns spicy,
With little gifts.
Rider Of WhiteA lovelyRider Of White1 week ago in Free Verse
upon a stump
playing a flute
in legions across
acres and miles
a great stone god
higher than all
amongst the forest
from feathered priests
sung by carnivores
bear, wolf, and lion
hair falling from
the likes of the oaks
the young maples
lament in the
sleep of their
in their immortality
all is sorrowful
all will be white
the entrance of the oldest
form of death
a Rider of White
rides across the
still blue horizon
painting and striking
Tundra: A Captive Wolf's HowlI cannot surrender this.Tundra: A Captive Wolf's Howl4 days ago in Free Verse
Were the final tide poised to recede
Before the crimson Hunter's Moon,
I would ask you be still
That every contour
Of distant snow-clad peak or rise
Each carefully embroidered flower
Clear as breath of frozen seas
Blown inland, snatching at my waning coat
Across the many thousand, scentless miles
Not one moment could escape these
For should their gaze falter, I fear
These walls will forever rise above me.
Winter YearningsWho understands my yearning for winter,Winter Yearnings1 day ago in Free Verse
In this land of heat and sun?
The sultry weather has conceived
An agony similar to drowning-
Overwhelming during summer's peak.
An ache grew for the bitter-sweet
Bite of frigid cold, where the
sun's heated gaze could not warm.
On tepid evenings, I languished
Over old memories of snowy nights-
So painfully quiet that each flake
Sounded like a pin dropping.
Cold, but pleasantly so- under
The bundle of quilted jackets, the
Chill could not penetrate.
New snowfall twinkled so sweetly
Under the glow of ancient streetlamps,
Leaving an impression forever
treasured with a deep anguish.
WhenWhenWhen5 days ago in Free Verse
on the hill.
Essence of snowy woodsEchoing voices shiver in winterEssence of snowy woods5 days ago in Free Verse
setting the air a'trembling
over glistening powder snow.
Dark bark, moist and cold
trees standing straight in a valley
of soft white oblivion.
Endlessly falling, flake by flake
blanketing a silent world
down from the feathered gray sky.
The river a translucent mirror
flowing slowly, frosting over
icy reflections in soft light.
Powder glancing through the air
as the winter wind gusts by
whispering through the winter sky.
Dear Wolf, Why Do You Howl?Dear Wolf,Dear Wolf, Why Do You Howl?2 weeks ago in Free Verse
Why do you howl at the moon?
Why do you howl at the moon so big and bright with the stars by his side?
Those stars....bright, beautiful, burning balls of light that fill the dark canvas of the night sky....
Those bright stars...with all their beautiful, perfect imperfections...
Dear Wolf, if I may ask, why do you howl?
Dear Wolf, why do you stand upon the edge of the cliff with your head thrown back as you let out your sorrowful cry?
Dear Wolf, if I may ask, why do you howl?
Are you crying out to your forever lost family? Are you perhaps crying out in hope that a stranger will reply? A friend or companion?
Is that, Dear Wolf, why you howl?
Do you howl not out of sorrow or loneliness, but cry out because of.....something else?
Dear Wolf, if you could tell me....please...Why
T e l l
m e . . . .
W h y
Y o u
H o w l ?
Day's EndWe view the day like a timerDay's End3 days ago in Free Verse
We have this much time to get these things done
And the closer it gets to the end,
The more panicking and anxiety set in
We want to stay in the morning forever
What we fail to realize is that the end of the day is beautiful
The sky is illuminated with a brilliant gold
The world quiets
We all prepare for some much needed rest
Sure we all love morning
It's a new beginning,
A chance to start over
But that morning can't come without the sunset
We should find peace in the end of the day
We've done so many things
Accomplished so much
The sunset is a time of reflection
A time to be at peace
So when the day's end nears
Just lie back
And go to sleep
Island fog.....Island fog.....Island fog.....1 week ago in Free Verse
pocketing the shell
The RainstormRainstorm.The Rainstorm10 hours ago in Free Verse
Imagine yourself in a field,
The lush green grass beneath your feet, Nothing else in sight.
You look up at the sky
And see that it's growing darker, Clouds begin to gather above.
You take a deep breath.
The cool air fills your lungs,
You notice the familiar yet indescribable smell of rain.
The storm rolls in.
You see a flash of light,
Immediately after that,
You hear an earthshaking rumble,
That sets your heart beating like crazy, And gives you a feeling of awe and wonder.
The lighting strikes and the thunder rolls.
You're staring up at the sky,
Amazed at the beauty of the clouds.
You feel the first raindrop on you face.
After that first drop the rain gradually increases until it is heavily pouring.
You're standing there drenched from head to toe still amazed by what's around you.
After quite awhile the rain dies down, The rolling of the thunder gets farther away from the lighting flashes.
And you know that the storm is moving away.
The StageOf reality's two stages the more powerful is that which agesThe Stage3 days ago in Free Verse
More powerful than even space as you're the one that starts the race
And every second of every hour you remind me how you have that power
You remind me that you're here to stay with every hour of every day
Each passing tick just makes you grow with no hope that you'll ever slow
Each passing tock just makes makes me see all the things I want to be
The weight of the clock
No hope that you will ever stop
Every death and every kill is just an hourglass you fill
You've got all of us right in your hand watching streams of falling sand
We theorize you're just causality but what on Earth is your reality?
We say you fly
And make things die
Leaving us to wonder why
The future, present and the past all make sure no thing will last
But you're not as dreadful as you seem since you're all that life can ever mean
While you pass you heal our pain which keeps us all content and sane
For all the painful wounds you heal the trade off
SilenceThe rain is drippling outside.Silence1 week ago in Free Verse
Almost quiet melodies out of my headphones.
The monitor's blinking lights are the only one in this darken room.
In my thoughts I see all those things outside the windows.
The moon will rise.
It's getting night, I realize.
Homebodiesat last there came a true longing pastHomebodies3 weeks ago in Free Verse
I felt safe enough to enter the competition
'to see who can have no friends the longest'
the mortar dried
the breeze blocks dropped
when the old clouds sued
for the return of their stolen rain
Our organic abodes
grew like trees
one story per year
if you pleased
Our poltergeists were retrained
as sick building syndrome medics (SBSMs)
soft autumn windows bulged
crimson and gold
here comes my THC head now
for the autoflowering white widows
'my imaginary friends turned out to be
nothing like I imagined them'
HerbstSieh zu, wie die Blätter fallen,Herbst1 week ago in Free Verse
sie verlassen den Baum
sieh zu, wie die Blätter fliegen,
sie tanzen vor dem Baum.
Sieh zu wie die Blätter sich färben,
von grün zu gelb zu rot
sieh zu wie die Blätter dort landen,
von gelb zu rot zu braun.
Sieh zu, wie die Blätter welken,
ihr Leben nun versiegt
sieh zu, wie die Blätter sterben,
ihr Leibe die Erde wärmt.
Sieh zu, wie die Blätter fallen,
komm, träum vom Frühling jetzt
sieh zu, wie die Blätter fliegen,
Winter kommt früh genug.
Calming SeaThe waves of the sea,Calming Sea1 week ago in Free Verse
Crash up against the shore,
As the sun sets,
And turns the water orange,
Beautiful clouds form,
And a slight breeze,
Caresses your cheek,
As you walk along the shore,
You stop to take a deep breath,
As you take in all the calm,
It is just perfect,
A light wave touches your feet,
As they sink down,
Into the warm sand,
It feels so good,
Big, fluffy clouds,
Roll in from the West,
As the last of the light,
Dims and then fades,
This scene is perfect,
You wish it could last forever,
This sense of calm,
And peaceful state.
Be StillThe caged bird beats its wings in a simple tuneBe Still1 week ago in Free Verse
Like the drums of a long dead song
His furry creates symphony
His anger born from the need to be free
He screeches and yells his angry song
But sad for he knows its no use
The caged birds song draws no sadness
From the ones who caged him there
So he sings the tune without the words
And pounds his maimed wings against his prison bars
The free bird sings with sympathy
For the caged bird and his struggle
Never to bee free or to claim the sky
The caged bird wilts with sadness
Flutters once more against the bars
Then is still
Midnight AvenueThese battered streetsMidnight Avenue1 week ago in Free Verse
With a playground
Of endless enchantment
Between sidewalk cracks
In the alleyways
Of broken homes
Under each leaf adrift
In the panting breaths of those around me
Concealment of little lives
Rebounding off one another
Into freshly spun tales
In the autumn air
They whisper to me
Spew their secrets
In a language formed
Underneath the shadows
Unreachable to most
Of living death
Only when noticed
His Night Mistress, Her ChildHis Night Mistress, belongs to him alone yet a never him. But always in his gazeHis Night Mistress, Her Child1 week ago in Free Verse
His Night Mistress, even when not there nor full he will always feel mesmoration of her comforting glow.
His Night Mistress, when casted adrift from tyranny of Jehovah’s eye, will comfort her other countless children on the three.
His Night Mistress, when clouded by Jehovah’s kingdom, her subject will cry for her presence but not make a single sound to wake the day walkers.
His Night Mistress, even when closed in by holes of heaven, none are glorious and brighter than her.
His Night Mistress, always brings tranquility to him during her reign over the veil of midnight black.
His Night Mistress, even when not present, still holds the throne of the night.
His Night Mistress, always his when the dragon falls to the west, always his when he opens and sighs out presence of stress.
“Welcome back, My lovely Night Mistress.”