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 Sep 2016 Joel M Frye
Anna
you like to count each candle
but hate when the wax drips down
burning you so naively
in its gentle, innocent
way. you blamed the blisters rising
on my hands, you stained them red.
these broken bones left to mend,
this weight that was never mine
is now left for me to bear.
you ask about the cracks and tears
when you didn’t handle with care.
 Sep 2016 Joel M Frye
Anna
we were the essence of the
early morning dust, floating
in expectation, of the
restriction in hopes we held.
I long for your touch, your gaze
gliding over my skin, your
illuminating shadow
imprinted as galaxies
growing over my body.
love me under covers,
hold me as your universe.
your meaning, your light to guide.
when mornings drag you away.
 Sep 2016 Joel M Frye
SE Reimer
a tribute

~

memories...
in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
once-upon-a-moments;
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears,
...as we remember well.

memories...
the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined,
...as she remembers well.

memories...
so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill,
...so we remember well.

memories...
its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality.
...to for’er remember.

memories...
to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
no,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep,
...as i remember well.

~

post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
 Sep 2016 Joel M Frye
Emily B
There is an ache
That sits in my chest
When I read your poetry

I sit long
Trying to wrap
My arms around
Something

Want so badly
To soothe an ache
Yours
Or mine

And so I sit
 Sep 2016 Joel M Frye
Onoma
As you hold
those you pray
for in prayer...
you pray with
the power of
every prayer
ever prayed.
You pray for
everything.
On days like this
cool, with little winds
desert birds forage for sticks
they build nests perched in cactus
some build green in palo verde trees
always I think of baby birds in spring
hatchlings, the fledglings that fly
I travel far beyond the noise of towns
watch the movement of cooling clouds
the roundness of rain upon the ground
the grey banked scurrilous skies
of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm
daisies that close, cold amid the stones
beneath where snakes and lizards go
slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros
and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.
 Sep 2016 Joel M Frye
Emily B
And sometimes
Just like that
I see
What I have been
Seeing

And
I understand
This path
I'm on

The darkness
Lifts
And the fog
Clears
Though
I don't mind
Either

And I see
Straight enough
To step
Forward
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