james-e-roethlein
51/M/Middletown, Pa
I have been writing for 25+ years and I am the author of three book of poetry “Musing On The Cricket Game of Life Part 1 1/2”, “An Extravagant Way of Saying Nothing”, and "Letters To Roxanne" available on Amazon as well as other retailers
Hope is Dancing
Lying alone each night, empty arms aching,
all the while
hope is dancing
hope is dancing
hope is dancing
in my dreams
when I’m awake I would seek to see
the sunshine in your face
the heavens in your eyes
and to hear the melodic honey of your lips
that would turn my lemonade soul sweet.
And I would hope
And I would hope
And I would hope
you’d dance duet with me
all the years we have left.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
Sep 5, 2021
Sep 5, 2021 at 11:17 AM UTC
Dreamland’s the Place
Dreamland’s the place
I melt at the sight of you,
passing as moonlight rivers
before my eyes and close enough
that I may touch your spun silk hair.
In your presence my beating heart
turns diamond from coal
and your soft lilt caresses my ears.
But the dreamland fades,
giving way to reality when I wake,
for the door I locked is rusted shut
and never to be opened again.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 30, 2021
May 30, 2021 at 8:48 AM UTC
An Incomplete View of What Happened
Borrowed breath,
you breathed mine
and I faint fell
from the serpentine
of your feigned affections.
This quartz heart of mine
(rendered metamorphic)
turned to sandstone,
and Atlas failed
to hold up the sky.
Five years fooled, finally
forced to say; no more.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 28, 2021
May 28, 2021 at 3:20 AM UTC
My Heart
My heart,
desert dying,
I stumble, I stumble,
rocks and rattlesnakes
waiting to wound
waiting to wound.
Daytime skies overhead.
pitch as midnight to me,
and the road of lonely years,
stretches on and stretches on,
no end or voice in sight.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 25, 2021
May 25, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
She is Moonlight
She is moonlight
on snow bound fields
under clear midnight skies,
the world waiting, waiting,
for spring to return.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 12:51 AM UTC
Nails and a Hammer
Nails and a hammer
to hang you to a tree,
I swing, and you
scream
scream
scream.
****** intent
in heart and mind,
that the Author of Life
should bleed out and die.
This is the mercy and pardon
given to rebel man
sitting on spiritual death row.
Why would anyone refuse?
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 11:47 AM UTC
Soldiers Returning From the War
Red rivers to wade through,
heart sickened
at the sight of battle blood,
enemies and friends
fallen, never forgotten.
Bullet blasts and combat cries
in dreams, in the waking hours
of the returning wounded,
whose war has not ended.
James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 8:38 PM UTC
Crayons and colored pencils,
spilling waxen graphite blood
in collective pigment wars.
The box they fight in,
reaching a point of ruination
from the river shed within.
James E. Roethlein ©2021
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 9:54 PM UTC
Further down our rabbit hole
descending to free fall,
the abyss beckons
and there is no wonderland
(only the nine circles).
In these days of now,
dark waters (midst the mob
demanding justice done)
defends blade and bullet bearers
(bloodletting upon their own)
from the dam stemming the tide
of red rivers staining the streets.
We continue,
We continue,
ignoring the yesteryears,
and advance to soul oblivion
beyond our world's end.
James E. Roethlein ©2021
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 8:54 AM UTC
Rain and the Spanish Inquisition
Rain is the result of water in liquid form
descending from the clouds at gravity's behest,
and looking out the window at work
I can see it came down here rather than somewhere else.
Now my two cats, safe at home,
still care nothing for the weather outside
or the fact I didn't expect (like the Spanish Inquisition)
it to rain on an April afternoon.
James E.Roethlein ©2021
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 7:55 AM UTC