America, the beautiful
Home of the brave
Or so it used to be
Before it became
Home of the selfish and lazy
From sea to shining sea
Once a cape of good hope
Until the tidal patterns shifted
And eroded the shores
Of her dignity
Born American, patriot by choice
Is how the saying goes
But what's a patriot really
If patriotism is measured
By the size of one's collection of faded bumper stickers
(As if bumper stickers would revive us)
Land of the pilgrim's pride
But on this trajectory
We'll soon be
Land of the pilgrim's regret
From every mountainside, let ignorance ring
I cringe to think of what we're reduced to
A hollow shell
Made of fashion and fake money
Nothing keeping us truly alive
Each generation weaker than the one before
Please, no more.
Someone speak for all that's good
Do what our leaders never could
My country, 'tis of thee I plead,
Awaken, open your eyes, and see.
Day three of my A Poem A Day project. Written 5/16/2013.
though the wilderness woods,
far and away from the potholes
of well beaten pathways
The soft breeze slowly moves
the shadows cast in the moonlit night
past the thorny stems of time.
Wildlife paths illuminated by starlight
adorn the alluring wooded trail
Secluded pathways foraged by natural instinct,
ancestral prudence and intuition
Each shadow drawn willingly
into a deeper enlightening journey
As if synchronicity united hearts
learning to speak minds
The depths of undaunting transparency
are rendezvous with awakening breath
Looking back at life withdrawn in discontent;
exhaling shameless freedom without regret
Lost in perpetual motion, found in heart
Separate souls illuminated by the moon
stood alone yearning for healing connection
Ardor of hope shines an inward light
as moonlight slumbers while passion blushes radience
The night has a thousand coquettish eyes
shining on practical mysticism
The laughing owls of midnight
Echo their illusions of crystal clear reverie
Moved by swirling tempest breezes
showering down from high endeavors
where treetops pierce the stars
Wisps of the sleeping sky unfurl
stardust teardrops drunk by earth’s sod
Nocturnal Cricket’s rhythmus acoustical wings
are very quietly chirping a bashful courting song
Laughter rings out blissfully
like the joy of a heavenly child
Nature sways with a gentle motion
Her leafy arms groan and moan the silent toil
as she holds up the weight of the celestial light
Moonlight moves across the shadows
of love born beneath her branches.
Two shadows embrace as one
emerging rapturously from the sleepy wilderness
Reborn as naked as the free
enlightened by the enchanting forest...
under the enchanting allure of a full,
blossoming, spring moon...
My love will never be enough
to keep you down the line.
You always had a gypsy soul,
Keeping you would be a crime.
The bird sings a lovely song,
When he sits in the tree.
Put him in a gilded cage,
then all he wants is free,
So I will always love you,
even if you must go.
But, I hope to see you someday,
To patch up this big hole.
Silently weeping tears run cold.
By myself in this empty house.
No one to hear my whimpers and cry's.
By myself I have no one to relay on.
Trying to call but no one answered.
I'm left here with nothing but the echos of my tears as they hit the ground.
Were tears run cold.
In this empty house.
Is were I lose all hope.
Slipping away with the razor in my hand.
Were the floors are stained red.
Silently weeping hoping someone saves me before I end
I am sometimes sad because
Surely churches should be
Shelters for the homeless?
Or because pockets jingle
And we are deaf to the jolly clatter
Whilst others hear the call of god.
Or because people with
Paper cuts leak bitterness
And not human empathy
And we leak and leak and
No one cleans up after us,
Until jokers mutter 'revolution'
And the day dreams of a burning city
Are believable when the cries for
Are from muted peripheral spectres
In our Utopia.
Mostly I am sad because my words
Are void by lacking action but
My mind refuses to stop spilling out poetic waste.
Today you gave me a fake flower and
Most likely a lie but the flower is on my wall
Shiny yellow thing in foil bright like my eyes, you said.
I hope our exchange gave you hope.
you’re more than a name
often wondering where I have been
songs lost in daytime hours
my faint memory
of things that came and left
still hangs from your mouth
like dried leaves
aching for something more
I’ve never lived up to you
I trample over (my) words
the suggestion of night becomes
I will not go quietly, or do as you say
or extinguish my light, just to act in your play
I will never endure all your senseless remarks
That spring from the weakness you hide in the dark
I’ve often been fooled by the words of a friend
who lead me on blindly to treacherous ends
I’ve allowed you to hurt me I’ve opened my heart
As you filled it with poison and tore it apart
I will stare at the sun as my anger takes form
I will climb to great heights in the gut of the storm.
I will curse this false trust that ensnares me like rope
that binds my torn wrists and suffocates hope.
I will let my voice sound from the top of this hill
I will sing, I will dance, I will laugh, yes, I will
You're present when I hear this song.
As if our moments in time
and futures unknown
One hears the sound of pure water
that you hold so dear.
Washing away regret
and all that you fear.
Its rhythm flows with dark ease,
as if to level down time.
Just as you ebb
from your story's past
and aspire to climb.
Its tempo jumps to be present
and slows its beat to meet our urgent.
Just as your gifts to us become more fluent,
your love of life becomes life's servant.
Its tone is
Just as your voice shares its
The song takes its time to bring us through,
As you unveil the vibrance of your colorful view.
And as you savor today's moments,
seek it significance,
C. . .
I hope you
like this song,
Oh, I hope I got it right.
I felt your presence,
heard this song,
wrote this poem,
I'm supposed to spend my whole life waiting
for love's embrace to come and save me.
Who can tell me what love looks like,
so I will know him when he comes?
Because if love is perfect, if love is the only thing that can save me,
love has to be able
to withstand me.
And so far nothing can.
I imagine love to be made of iron.
I imagine love is tall, a stack of metal and bolts,
made all of hinges and corners and welding seams.
I imagine one day I will find love,
and I will climb inside its heavy doors.
I will clank them shut behind me, letting the latch close.
Love will hide me, protect me.
I will be alone in love, but I will be safe.
That must be love, then.
To be alone but not to feel. This is how I imagine love.
I hope I find it soon.
A smile is such a mixed display
Of honesty and deceit.
Even the keenest are led astray
When that smile isn’t sweet.
With that smile a façade is built
Hiding one’s wants and true emotions.
A pearly white mask of fear and guilt
Outshines the truth with hollow notions.
But there lies the occasional shine,
Tearing down the walls and blockades.
Joy resounds from your soul to mine,
Hope flows from your grin in cascades.
Carry that flash of pleasantness and guile
And, to all, let it grow and accrue.
For when I bore witness to your loving smile
My heart leapt and I knew it was true.
April 19, 2009