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mark john junor Aug 2024
The steering current turns north
Bringing wild winds stirring
As the massive storm stalks us
From far past horizon
I keep watch to the gathering rains fall
As my silent brother sleeps
Would try to pry him awake
But we no longer speak the same language
My mutterings no longer register

Hours become days
As the storm unwinds
Sometimes the sun breaks the rain
And my lost brother can speak
Do you remember this...
Remember that...
What's to discuss when you are not home
What's to endorse our liberty's
When you're tied to a bed

A storm stalks far over the naked horizon
The promise of her ferocity tasted in the
Stirring wind
Rain and a wicked flood
That will shred hearth and home
But my sleeping brother lay safe
In the confines of his mind
Sleep bother sleep on and on
Rest easy longliner
The sea awaits
mark john junor Jul 2024
He wrestles with the blanket
trying by sheer strength of will
to swim out of the deepening tide waters
that overwhelm him
as unseen hands hold him back

no longer am I a brother
I am a stranger tugging at him
as he tries to flee
some unseen danger that troubles his mind

Difficult to stand and watch
difficult to write

He wrestles with the blanket
and curses his accusers
slanders the mediocracy of such an end
to a life lived unapologetically
I never knew that you were so strong
till that strength was gone
fare the well longliner
a son of the sea
may the waves rock you gentle to sleep
long blissful sleep
mark john junor Jul 2024
I sit bedside
and listen to the stirrings of his mind
snake their way through reason and folly
see the flashes of the rational come and go
watch the man I had come to call brother and friend
as he wanders the borderlands
between the light of awareness
and the dark of the illness that laid him low

He has not died
but lingers in half-life
like a man tied to a heavy stone
trying to drag it back to the light
while darkness creeps behind robbing him of the notion
he is a Sisyphus of the modern-day
treading the same steps over and over
while I sit in vigil bedside
hoping to catch him aware and awake
a chance to fare thee well
rest now brother
brave brave brother

I stand here by your side in dark or light
vigil for the man who is not gone
who wrestles with the darkness
in favor of light
mark john junor Jun 2024
She was fairytale pretty
in a sky blue chiffon
bare footed and soul on display
both deep blue sea
and wild young day

She gazed at you with inquisitive
but never said a word
leaving it to your own heart to read the lines unwritten
in the pale beauty of her lips

She seems painted there
a portrait of intensities
on the hardwood floor
where sunlight carves its path
across it's worn wooden heart

She is forever there in sunlight
mark john junor Apr 2024
Heroes wear all kinds of uniforms,
and call many places home,
but standing the line for Democracy
they are all just as tall and just as brave

Who was this man
who ventured to a distant land
to defend it from an invader
they are not his people
this was not his home
but he stood the line for Democracy
he stood the line proud and tall
and died

He was my Brother
He was my Father
He was my Friend
He was a good man
He stood the line for Democracy
The Japanese Shuto Fukuyama, who had been serving in Ukraine as a Volunteer succumbed on the Battlefield.
Honor, Glory and Gratitude To Our Brother.
mark john junor Jan 2024
The long hours slip by
weariness clings to me
thoughts become frayed
like a flag that whips in a cold wind
you can feel it snapping on the winds-cutting edge
that sound...that feeling consumes me

Will I meet my end shredded by all
I have withstood
will the strength to endure
be my undoing
by resisting I can no longer resist

Like a soldier I stand fast my ground
Like an apostle of night
I strip and kneel at the alter
hoping not to be called upon to rise
hoping not to know
all I fear to know

Fear and Doubt
are the Twin Gods
who fight within every man's soul
the rack and ruin of their battle
lay wasteland to a man's vision
of what is and what could be

Hold that line
Stand Fast that hope
Let the symbol of your heart stand against the wind
mark john junor Dec 2023
Wind sweeps me along
like the dry old leaves of yesteryear
dry and brittle
imprinted forever with the
memory of long languid summer
faded now to dark browns
far afield from the lively green
that was youth
ever-growing
never-ending
ever alive with all that I could do
but never did
dark sounds the bell that tolls
a dark song that only whispers sing
I am swept up into a stone-wrought doorway
and I nestle my sleepy head into its comfortable corner
sleep comes soon
restful wakefulness that is the edge of dreams
sleep comes nearer
and away, away with all the discomforts of life
watch them fall away like a veil of tears
away, away goes I into the sleep of ages
a new leaf born into the next world
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