Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

Yore Infatuation

the universe is expanding
not so your mind
you are an old wineskin
about to burst with new wine
you look up at the stars
gazing back in time
but you are not enlightened
by what you find

you pine for a time
that just wasn’t true
because the good ol days
were only good for a few
and the past is past
it will never renew
so why does yesterday
have such a hold on you?

history is a great teacher
with few who enroll
in her classes to learn
if the truth be told
when what you believe
is another black hole
the price to be paid
is the loss of your soul

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

Beyond Legerdemain

is it any wonder
that of the seven
ancient wonders
only one remains
and the pyramid of giza
is but a tomb and
no longer contains
the afterlife companions
or the mouldering remains
of the pharoah

time in subtle thunder
doth rip asunder
with wind and
weather and rain
pounds with
mocking disdain
until these monuments
of blood and stone
and workers pain
are brought low

i cannot help
but wonder if one
must go under
into the inner domain
of broken heart
and mending brain
to build a different
kind of wonder
beyond another
legerdemain
one forever sustained
by the care of soul
a new archipelago

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

The Lost Parts of I

i am the scattered one
fragments cast
across the cybersphere
a million pieces of me
invisible
mixing with you
over my head
in the air
like silent wraiths

i am everywhere
and nowhere
omnipresent
without divinity
immortal
in search of my soul
my essence
sucked from
me by vampire
screens

i am the silent one
removed to the cave
away from the
false gods
of fire and wind
and storm
drawing deeper within
to call
a quiet shout

like bats
the lost parts
of i
hear and begin
their returning
to me
like smoke
in the bright
red morning

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

The Timetraveler

like a lone hand
grasping for
drops of rain
are the memories
that grab me
suddenly
out of the gray
and i am
back there
with you
your words
falling down
around me
like brown
leaves

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

When I am Overwhelmed by the World

I wake to a morning of dismay,
caught up in the troubles of the day,
ensnared in what I cannot change
and a world that won’t rearrange
into a kinder, gentler place
where I’m just another runner in the human race.

Somehow I’ve learned that being painfully aware
is synonymous with showing that I really care
when I simply get caught up in the hoplessness
and the news of another’s tragic distress
which sucks the strength right out of my bones
and leaves me feeling so alone.

There seems to be a lesson here,
rising out of the worry and fear,
that perhaps there is a Voice I should be listening for,
Creator cares for this world so much more
than I ever can or will
and it is with that Love I seek to be filled.

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

The Melancholic

perhaps it is the rain
the gray of the day
the fog across the window panes
the wet that keeps
the hounds at bay

the clap of refrain
where fingers stray
to jog across a tender frame
the fret that weeps
the sounds of a ukulele

the trap of my brain
the notes that play
and slog across my inner disdain
regrets that sleep
in mounds of dismay

perhaps it is the rain
the tune of the day
the dog that sees me with eyes of pain
sets aside the sheep
having found her prey

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

The Missing Words

Sitting here in my chair of reflection,
I seek the missing words,
those that found me yesterday,
coming so fast I did not
have time to capture them
before they were gone,
winging away like
bright butterflies.

I am the flower they feed upon,
the nectar for their
thirsting tongues.
If I wait, they will return.
The page fills again.
My stories are carried
away on the wind.

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

Prodigal

then
suddenly
i awake

rising from
the mud
the taste
of pig slop
still in
my mouth
i begin
the long
stumble
home

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

Perhaps what I am waiting for

perhaps what i am waiting for
is already right here
waiting for me
to simply acknowledge
its presence
like a precious thing
once thought lost
that never was

hidden in plain view
until i took my eyes
off the distracting shine
of what i thought
was precious
and saw again
that which so
patiently and
lovingly has
always been here
waiting for me