Endless roads with shattered glasses,
they bur into an aching feet,
looking for some soft green grasses,
or anywhere to take a seat,

Travel on in distant darkness,
looking for a tiny light,
blinded by the endless starkness,
as you go off into the night,

Submit,
to NOTHING.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

This elegant bloom
forgot the season
came stocked for summer idylls
picnics by the water's edge
scent of mowed fields
scent of love's flowering.

Pitiful rose
how did you become
so lost in time?
Nothing now becomes you.

So I carefully cut
the stem
placed your ******* vein
in a slender jar
filled with
the last spring's freshet.

You came to life
for us
at Christmas time.
A meager blessing
in a time of pain.
A frail totem
in a time of dread.

I wake each day
with despair eating at
my good spirits
the specter of
a new political order
crouching in the darkest corners
of my place of rest.

******* it!
Send that orange horror
into oblivion.
******* monster
robbing my nights of peace.

There is no sense to this life.
There is rhyme without reason,
pain without relief.

Just the same
I will slog on.
One foot in front of
the other.
Repeating as necessary.
And then letting it go
through the latched gate of time.

What makes you think,
I can mend my broken,
self,
when Humpty Dumpty,
couldn't do it with all that help?

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Another teary Christmas Eve just passes,
as she watches the world,
some soon hold dear Christmas masses,
through her cars side window,
as the cold air just stirs,
& the engine just purrs,
on down roads she's been down too many times,
as church bells again chime,

In darkest slate blue and grey streaked skies,
against a stark white cloudscape
across her glassy mirrored eyes,

Her eyes fill as she remembers,
the argument before dinner,
& then after,
and there is never really a "winner",

She's not ever comprehending,
the why???

Back home,
& living a lie,
sitting at her stool,
her head in her hand,
& she feels such a fool,
her feet and mind exhausted,
she's emotionally drained,

Things are more than just strained,
her heart more than just pained,

Then he hears her voice CRACK
though doesn't acknowledge her pain
he gently stokes the fire,
she cries alone,
in vain,
but he is not stoking theirs,

He let that die out a while ago,
as if he couldn't care,
& she knows she should go,
still she doesn't dare,
& she doesn't seem to know,

How???

As another tear
                             D
                                 R
                                   O
                                       P
F
   a
      l
        l
          s
           plays on the radio,

She sits in silent sadness,
this is her teary Christmas,
when others surrounded by gladness,

How many melancholic Christmases,
that she just drowns in,
must she endure???

The elusive happiness she once knew,

Left right along there with you.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Down the roads I've always traveled,
they keep me here inside these walls,
I know it's time to change the scenery,
as I hear that gypsy horn,
it calls,

Staying still is not my option,
There's nothing that I wouldn't do,
To have a place to call my own now,
A place to love and be with you,

Say the word,
& there I will be,
To fly there with angelic wings,
I'll call upon those native angels,
I always hear the song they sing,

If it should be my time to go now,
To join you in that earthly loam,
Finally my feet will have some rest then,
and nowhere left for them to roam,

It doesn't matter where you are dear,
beside you is where I'm at home.

Cherie Nolan© 2016

one of the Orient’s oldest
and most beautiful important cities
inhabited for thousands of years
by generations after generations
of craftsmen, merchants, artists, dynasties,
famous architects of all styles and religions,
the western end of the old silk road
home to over 2 million citizens
until not long ago

a few weeks of modern warfare
were enough to destroy
what hundreds of generations had built
for their living as well as their sense of beauty

     rockets exploded churches, temples, and mosques
     artillery pulverized ancient palaces and new houses

     barrel bombs and poison gas
     killed the people

on tv we now see acres of urban wasteland
miles of rubble with no life
except for occasional tanks and soldiers
proclaiming victory over these ruins
in the name of a dictator whose regime
has become a puppet in global power games
no matter what the cost in lives or things

     to destroy is easy
     building things up is hard work

     with friends like these
     who needs enemies

When we are children,
life just goes on...
forever,
days like...
years,
sighing and hoping,
to be "big" soon.

I look back so fondly on those amazing, memories,
wishing to be back there,
to see as I do now.

If we had only known,
that this was our time to stop,
and REALLY see,
appreciate it,
catch glimpses of everything,
snapshots saved for when we really,
need them.

Perhaps in age we would slow down more,
appreciate every single second,
like we did then.

I have no real regrets,
because pain and suffering
taught me love and patience.

I was always in turmoil inside,
I wasn't aware-
enough,

Until a day when everything,
became too clear,
it blinded me,
& broke me down,
till I submitted,
and finally I see the real beauty in life.

I only wish,
just a tinge of bittersweet,
that I had been,
able to always,
allow what is,
and just...
let it be.

Cherie Nolan © 2016