bobby-bielikWhisper

American

ChangeI cried on the steps of change, wondering where am I going. So many breathless moments we lose to change. The silver and gold shadows reflecting the sky. The sway of moonlight between the tree branches. The poetry and the book, the skin and the blood of war. / I leave changed knowing it is before me waiting to change me again. Beauty from ashes, fire from stones. Hope is a weary road between us. Like smoke and ice never meeting in the land of fair play. So my dreams are coming and have pass me wanting to dream again. To hope in the stillness of hope that I too will be admired in my live years.

2

Apr 23, 2015

UPON EVERY KISSWhat remains is only a flow between us / like a transient kiss blown in the wind / a blink, a hint of a smile, I can't do without

18

Apr 13, 2015

AWAKEShall I die to put the breath to sleep / or meet each day unto death I keep / to walk a lonely line that never ends

17

Apr 13, 2015

UntitledAs frail rays are mirrored on rolling light, / time passes / Their timid fingers press against the window,

9

Apr 7, 2015

Crystal FearsOh that I would do that which I should but there is a war among the me's / In the thickets of my mind attesting to my skin. Might-ing that I would do. / But within the crystal fears reflecting the worst of me I choose what to do.

6

Apr 1, 2015

TIC TOCKI am the afternoon / summer rain in the middle of June / time forgot me

16

Mar 31, 2015

In The GrassesWho quiets the detonators song / who stills the beast within he wills / the refuting wrong, the ill he feels

19

Mar 14, 2015

What nobody sees...is me.no one sees me / standing against the wall / leaning so I won’t fall down out of fear

19

Mar 4, 2015

For A SongFor a song I would love thee, as no one loves / bright as the ever-moon, your face shinning still / voice as a nightingale, singing songs of deliverance

13

Mar 2, 2015

My MuseThe assembly of words come stepping in the still vagueness of thinking, “Is there something you want to say“ “Something words need saying?” / At times you wait seeming to ask permission “Shall I come along? Shall I wait here again for you?” / A word slips not sorely but given away, a gift, a challenge, a burden born to itself.

9

Mar 2, 2015

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