Poet’s Pain

November 6, 2017 A poet’s pain does remain thru their emotion’s they have slain. The word’s thrown down, twisted in sprain. There they lay , in the poet’s pain. The poet’s pain… cannot reclaim , from the brain, the words that lay before them. There…they must remain. The poet feels a little lame, as he […]

Rapid Fire

Rapid fire…of souls to heaven, recent count? Twenty- six Which way will your’s go ? Forgiveness? Do you seek? Heaven is for the mild and the meek. I am glad , I am not God.

An Egg

via Daily Prompt: Egg I found a egg, that had a leg. Her mother’s name was Meg. I swooped her up and gave her a kiss, and then I named her…Peg.

Going Under

Going under…. makes you wonder. Exactly; where will we go? Will those who have gone before, be able to see us? Shall we leave here , hand in hand… With the man that they call Jesus.

Writer’s Woe

A writer’s woe, tossing to and fro. Letters of the words. That should be heard. The smite of offense, often leaves dense: such is…the writer’s woe ;

So…Now It’s Done

Choices made , separate ways Is the way that it will go. No more husband, no more wife. Such is life…such is life. Shashi/A.J.

Still

Written June 22, 2004 Now that we are still. The pieces, are still here. What will we do with them? After all the years? Put them back from whence they came? Different beings, different names. No…No… It’s not possible to be the same. We see no living with regret and shame. Farewell

One Fanged Snake

Written May 1995 One fanged snake ? Don’t bite me… The scar from last still there you see. However, your sting I do like. I can’t play now; for it is night. At night I hide, from your venomous eye. When you slither past me; Get on by. Reality is set. No […]

Tristan John

Tristan John? Where have you gone? So early in your time? Such a soul … Such a smile… Your beautiful contagious laugh… Your wheels, they wore … slowing down, to let your true self show. What a beautiful young man you grew to be. How your life would go…. We will never see. When […]

Mother At Christmas

Written December 25, 2002 My mother was not fleshly present, for Christmas this year. Her spirit was everywhere. You could not feel her hand or face. She was in the air; her soft loving ways… we passed to each other. The chance to tell one another. I didn’t see her there, or hear her call. […]