william-diefenbachWhisper

American

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Always Crossing, Never MergingTo simply state the complexities of life, “Our roads are ever crossing but never merging; forever intertwined yet different roads we stay. / When we first met at mile marker 230 I never thought that I’d feel this way, / and as we’ve driven down the roads we go our dotted lines have met again.

16

Jan 26, 2010

Dreaming of Her Again..I wish; I wish I could go back; back to those images which are now dissipating, dissolving away as I toss and turn desperately trying to fall back asleep. / I yearn for that moment, in which I may re-enter the sweet embrace of that false reality within my mind, and I find myself praying that those images be not vanquished into a distant memory lost somewhere in the depths of my own imagination; hoping to recapture those moments of you and I that can only begin as these eyes close down and this false reality sets in. / You see, I hold you not with my arms, but only in my heart

7

Jan 18, 2010

I need your help. I need you to desire a change.So I think I am just writing for the sake of writing tonight, and with that being said let me just say this. / As this ship pitches slowly but surely and we make our steam for the prospect ahead, I am overcome with an anxiousness and desire to leave the ocean and begin my work. I had a dream of going to Haiti the other night. It was a disturbing site to see. Crumbled buildings covering broken bodies, covered in the tears and blood, casting fear of the unknown into those that were unfortunate enough to be left behind. An already broken, already poverty stricken country now sent further into depths of disparity. Children sit on cracked side walks eating mud cakes lacking all nutritional value, only to fill their empty bellies with dirt and mud. Mothers are still in search of their children and loved ones. / I see the pain in their eyes, yet I know that at this moment only my prayers go out to them. I desire to go, to bring peace, hope, and if not any of the above, maybe just rest to their restless wandering.

13

Jan 22, 2010

Spirtiual WarfareBeginning needs end, yet no end in sight. / For journeys of this sort, end not tonight. / Demons tromp round the room ere I be,

26

Jan 18, 2010

The Longing....Longing heart, aching soul, searching, needing, waiting, wanting. I march forth, no desire to rest. Craving a turn of this page, to see the next chapter, to see the next day. Something much deeper than oceans depth, awaits my heart; Something far more beautiful than the rising sun approaches this life. Stories untold, soon to unravel. Anxious and impatient here I stand with opportunities at face. Hesitant, yet willing, I close my eyes, “Do I jump? Will I sink? Shall I wait? Should I go?” To open the door, or to hide away, this the choice that I make. Unsatisfied, and thirsting at more, I chase, I charge, I run, I seek to end this page and read the next. I know there's more. It sits beyond the bounds of this day, But with each new page my hunger grows. Set down the book, this I cannot, nor find its end nor find my peace. I will continue, I will press on, to finish this book, to live this life.

1

Jan 18, 2010

What is Beauty?There I stood amongst the crowd. Hundreds have gathered, like prairie dogs, we are still, with our eyes focused out past the rocks, and into the setting sun. The dolphins are rolling in the waves, and feeding on the snook. The earth is now cooled in the late evening breeze, and the sun begins its journey to the bottom of the ocean. The sky lights up with the most brilliant of colors, oranges, reds, pinks, and blues. All eyes look west, soaking up the picture. / Against the crowd, I turn my back to the setting sun! / I look away and into the eastern sky to see the clouds lit up just as brilliantly as the west, but there is more. The sun reflects off the condos showing their true colors, and the sandy shore is a fiery orange lined with birds after their final meals.

7

Jan 18, 2010

Your Poem *****Reeking havoc upon your words, / Snickering, laughing, sneering away, / Making you feel like lowly cattle terds.

10

Jan 18, 2010

Hello PoetryVoting