Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Sep 2016 The Dedpoet
Keith W Fletcher
You had the truth in your hand
But I guess you couldn't stand...
...the demand...
... of being a real human

So why does your shame
Make it necessary to blame
The others for suddenly being
A stranger
Does that not create the danger

Of rearranging the facts
While jumping the tracks
In your haste to move forward
What could be the reward
For striking such a chord
Of internal discontent
Where your morality is bent...
... To the point of almost broken

While fueling the fires you alone were stoking
I had relinquished the remote
As  I felt the chill wind blow
Still I did not don a coat
Out of righteous indignation
Or from forlorn resignation

Although there was temptations
I let you hem and haw - have your say
So you could do it your way
The window view instinctively knew
And slowly dropped it's shades
The window curtains instinctively knew
And dropped... so as one side fades

Going back into the obscurity
There is a melancholy pull
Looming large and weighted  down with insecurity

Even in that first moment of triumph
The serious side knew
This was no contest
It was an awakening
While nowhere near sleep
As if the dreamers shuffling steps recede

Scuffing the floor in metronomic
semaphore
Sounding like the best the best the best the best the best the best the best
Continuing as it crosses the room
The best the best the best the best
right on out the door.
  Sep 2016 The Dedpoet
Stephan

As fall now spins its color wheel,
a’ changing of the leaves to share
Simple are these pleasures shown
now won’t you come and meet me there

To feel the breeze upon your skin
in wafting scents of mountain pine
So I may hold you close to me,
and know you’ll be forever mine

Perhaps we’ll share a tender kiss
while walking slowly in the sun
Admiring the season’s view
as nothing more could be such fun

Then spend the day in shaded bliss
beneath a pastel maple tree
Here in the park as autumn paints
a masterpiece for you and me
The Dedpoet Sep 2016
The street Yes teaches the soul
To lose all hope and fight
With standard flesh in parallel
Reflection of drowning realities.
The street Yes teaches the heart
To break and gratefully piece itself
Back together like broken sidewalks
Uninterrupted in the geology
Of parallel violence.

The street does not teach tenderness
To rise with renewed passion;
A Phoenix phenomena pounding
The chest and crushing the solitude.
The street does not teach
How to cope with happiness
Or the success where none was before,
The street always educated,
Heavily, for its burden.
Westside Barrio
If you ever travel under rain dotted blue
stop at the ten mile haat.


Sellers there are not smart
buyers don't ever bargain
strange is their dealing art
both parties feel having gained.

Small is all they have
except the smiles on the face
the little the garden has saved
is sold to fetch happiness.

There's no haggling on price
never mind if you don't buy
no price is needed to be nice
peace is just an easy try.

Small men with not much of need
who easily make you their part
an island that lies far from greed
enchants you wins your heart.

And it's not a story that I make
I happen to be there once a while
return with a bag of big take
from the village haat at ten mile.
Next page