As I try to write a poem Someone's lost their home

As I try to be witty
Bombs destroy a city

As I try to create
Death is their only fate

Makes this seem so silly
Because it is

hospital gown sealed
nightfall and twilight gloaming
black and white stark tiles  

                

a giant snowflake falls to the ground
a cadence of silent whispers surround  
a dying rose a heartbeat, confounds      
a giant snowflake falls to the ground
a dying rose a heartbeat, confounds      
a flower goes to heaven a soul abounds  
a giant snowflake falls to the ground
a cadence of silent whispers surround  

                  *

Sundown fantasies dipped in the artistry of a diamond jubilee
centennial moments of living, death is at her door, she cries to  
Rumi stars as she wraps her skin with light and sinks, within.

Haiku/Triolet/Sijo

I care not about the words
spoken
Nor the one's laid down on page
I long ago got over myself
and the antics of my rage
They seem to be valueless
in the scrapped scope of paradise
I will take the offer given
and let the advice suffice
Poets don't live in mansions
Nor on rheams , nor texts or screens
They occupy the inner works of imaginations and all that it will bring
People don't pay for poets
nor feed their desperate ego
They just steal a line or perhaps a quote just to prove that they must know
At least songs have a memory with words dripping in notes for coats
So much easier to swallow
Not like the paper that chokes
So next time you say heh listen
I'll turn my head and flee
For it must be another attack of killer poetry

Rays of light reach the high watermark,
The sun lovely bathes in the morning dew,
On a rose cradled within someone's thumb,
And in a tear streaming from someone's eyes!"

we know the thrill, the trembling, the rush
the falling into falling into falling
only words survive of me as I surface
no escape for the velocity of resonance
a singularity  undescribable
beyond the bones an unfinished poem

you remember the confessions you made to my skin
how I used to touch you as if you were a land of the impossible
still possessed by a dreamy beast, my blood
as if the days hadn't invented the time of dying
love starts with a sigh, with a passing by
waiting for something to happen to the wind