k-m-krueger
American
"...the recognition of a truth that tells us something about ourselves ... We did not know it before, but the moment the poet has shown it to us, we know that, somehow or other, we had always really known it." Dorothy L. Sayers ******************************************************************************* / Native of northern Minnesota who has published on other sites under the name Katie Marie. I write for my enjoyment and, hopefully, yours.
I look for you, and you're not there.
Your words that flowed like fresh water,
cool, crisp, refreshing...absent;
only a trickle of memory
seeps through the rocks.
The laughter's gone.
The creek bed dry.
Just a single tear...
running down my cheek.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 5:28 PM UTC
Small and dainty
like a tiny ballerina on a music box,
arms reaching above your head
as you pirouette on your toes.
Your chin tilts upward with
bright ruby-red lips poised,
ready for your very first kiss.
Jun 23, 2010
Jun 23, 2010 at 5:47 AM UTC
sweet tender kisses
swallow the pain of saline drops
moist touch of tongue gives
loving caresses
hush, my baby
Jun 23, 2010
Jun 23, 2010 at 5:43 AM UTC
It is not good that Man
should be alone, they said.
And in their ignorance they
succumbed to the holy temptation
and they created a god.
In their own image they created him;
Frail and faulty they created him;
selfish and power hungry they created him.
Then they looked upon him whom they
had created and it was not good.
They loathed him and mocked him.
They spoke all manner of evil against him.
For they looked upon him and saw a reflection
...of themselves.
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
Snuggled in the corner
of his crystal castle
warding off wind’s whip,
head pillowed on phonebook pages,
warmly wrapped in dreams.
Street light serves as lunar glow,
While courtyard is landscaped with
cigarette butts and a broken bottle.
He’s Prince of the Paupers.
King of this urban domain.
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 11:03 AM UTC
Pages of thin onion skin, delicately touched
with the lilting script of a fountain pen.
Coarser pages of sturdy stock filled
with strong characters of printer's ink.
Binding woven with threads of friendships
Dipped in the warm glue of sisterhood.
The poetry of life fills the pages,
sing song limericks of childhood
followed by lines of romantic verse.
Tears stain tattered pages
where losses deep are journaled.
The title embossed in gilded gold,
you shall find "Woman" inside.
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 1:33 PM UTC
Sweet cordial of summers past has lost its sparkle
And fading blooms of purpose wilt on empty table.
Stains of yester-year recall a joyful celebration
As moon beams touch on silken folds of final resignation.
Silhouettes of uncertainty appear on the horizon
As winds of season’s change portend ambiguous direction.
Songs of nightingale have lost all enchantment
While languid lovers wait--on new day’s dawning.
Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 5:06 PM UTC
How could I not love, My Love,
You who first loved me?
How could I possibly turn my head,
From the One who sets me free?
How could I bare to lose Your Presence?
It is the gift of life to me.
How would I live without Your Touch?
Frightened and ‘lone I’d be.
How would I continue on,
If Your Face I could no longer see?
How would I then, know the way,
If you gave no answer to my plea?
For Your Love has been a sustaining fire,
Burning within my heart.
Your Eyes have been the Well of Truth
That lead me on the Path you chart.
No fear of Hell does make me quake;
Your Love fills me with Peace.
In Your Mercy I do trust;
Inner joy, You give increase.
Your Perfect Love my soul consumes;
It satisfies all need.
No fear is left of days to come,
In Faith does Grace precede.
Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 4:50 PM UTC
Oft’ he in silence sat, as prayers of tears ran down his face.
The love of many long and joyful years had left his side.
In peaceful letting go of breath this man had lost his bride.
In quiet longing heart did ache for one to fill that place.
Her days are lonely. Emptiness now fills their living space.
The man that once had been her strength, to whom her soul was tied,
Has entered into eternity, wound left open wide.
In sadness overwhelming, she asks God to give her grace.
In heaven’s courts their prayers are heard and answers sent on wings,
To northern plains and western coast new hope an angel brings.
These friends of old, their paths did cross (a simple piece of chance).
A time of sharing losses new, with words of gentle care,
A love is born as time is spent and laughter they do share.
From mourning’s ache a new day dawns and hearts now sing and dance.
Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 4:43 PM UTC