Broken, shattered
Dreams unraveled
Yet new life springs
From empty matter

Bury me
That I might live
A damaged vessel
Is all I give

Bruised and battered
Full of sin
O wretched man
Abiding within

Bitterness watered
By the tears I've cried
Forgive me Lord
For I have tried

Arms outstretched
Mercy tender
For victory now
I must surrender

Four years and his room is untouched.

I would love it that way

For years!

Stays ***** and span
The memory of my old man.

The southern window side of the bed
Where he laid his head

The eastern window that broke his sleep
With the sun’s first peep

His snapped photos on the wall of west
That ache my chest

On the northern wall the clock
That still of his time talks

His divan forlorn
Resting cold from his last morn

In each bric-a-brac
His touch his track

In ticks and creaks
His memory speaks.

Taste the moon, my friend

listen it will sing at night

a generous portion of love

with dark colored  sun filled glass

causes this somber sad expression

fills this anguish of mine

to melt my tears of hate....


Let me feel the moon in my bones

behind my wounded heart of mine

a ballad, oh moon, you do sing

from the deepest part of my mind

harbors past missed opportunities

of events through my lifetime~


The moon is raining my tears at night

feeling the sadness of many a years

bounds to my very soul

to take my pain of the disturbed peace.....


The world has gone mad

my life is your equalizing song

rain moon rain, with all your might

Let me radiate in your light....


Let's taste the moon tonight...

Debbie Brooks

Stray cats dreaming of leftover nibbles
gather when I feed the cats I call my pets.

Wistfully they look at the chewing jaws
that would pick clean the fish from rice
and maybe leave at most a half morsel.

The tomcat I wrote about some while ago
has not since been seen
breathing only as a lingering ache uncomfortably undefined.

But I know from the crop of the present visitors
some I would sniff in the next mango laden summer
with opaque diamonds in my eyes.

I promise myself,
that one day,
                            I'll get over you

That after that day,
                           You won't haunt me.

That after that day,
                            I'll be free.

The cage I locked myself in,
It'll be open

The best part is,
I won't lock myself in there again.

When you are a poet
you don't place yourself on a pedestal
don't spit venomous hate
think fellow writers are dismal.

When you are a poet
you don't feel a superiority
fellow writers you gleefully berate
make yourself perversely witty.

When you are a poet
your heart is a little more wide
you don't fume and fret
readers are not on your side.

If you are a poet
you know better than to be arrogantly vain
don't carry ego's sinful weight
but let your art pour through your pen.

Horses tap the Earth restless
Breath strikes chilly out of morning air
Stomach twists, jaw shakes
blood suffocates
Desperate as we ride
blurry as horizon fades
Your wings swallow up the blood-soaked sky

Here i am
with all the years not deserve
surrounded by your messengers
singing songs for all the very worst wishes
that how come i still alive

It is the memory not the time
roaming about every night
on every faces in my sight
faces familiar once, never later
question forever
Why i granted your spare

Not spare but re-descending this moment
wrapped in armor, pierced by spear
horses tap the Earth and roar the air
hands wielding swords, eyes forward
Charging with head held high
Oh my dearest i embrace
your eternity, your darkness
in this manner not desert another time

Where do I find a poem?
In the space of a blink,
Between heartbeats,
When idle or moving,
With family and friends,
In a cemetary,
At school,
On a beach,
On-line,
On a bench, sitting beside me.
In the four seasons,
Beneath the blue, black and starry canopy,
In the wild, sapian or worldly,
In the arts and prophets,
Crawling on the floor,
When I'm cooking;
And, when I'm not looking,
A poem will find me.

One day I'm going to be old and droopy
And your ears are going to be huge and hairy
My cheeks are going to sag and so are my arms
And you won't be able to move like you used to

One day I'm going to be grey and naggy
And your hearing aids won't work and you'll complain
My eyes will steadily stop seeing as well
And you'll never remember what day it is

One day I'm going to be confused and deaf
And you're going to be elderly with dementia
I won't be able to walk, but I'll crawl to you anyways
You won't be able to speak, but you'll love me the same

One day we're going to be nostalgic and cranky
And we won't understand our grandchildren's technology
We won't understand why these kids listen to such garbage
And we'll be forever together, in love with each other