#octpowrimo
It is finished.
A journey of sharing
is over.
I do not know how
to deal with this.
From the excitement of early morn,
being prompted to write,
to the wonderment of late evening,
seeing how many actually read
my work.
It is finished.
A truly heady experience,
emotions ran rampant
for 31 days.
I gave you my heart
on a readable platter,
my soul was visible
to all who cared to see it.
It is finished.
Never have I written
so much poetry,
rarely have I had
such a feeling of
accomplishment.
I am a blessed man
to have met
so many
great poets,
great writers
better people.
It is finished.
Time to breathe,
time to relax.
For in the big scheme of things,
it has just begun.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
The years are passing by.
Without fail, we watch
a timeless passage into
tomorrow.
Daily I pray for
our love to remain
strong.
Without fail, we make
mistakes, causing hurt
grief
sorrow.
We forgive.
We forget.
Time moves on,
and we grow
together.
Passion does not fade,
our own brand of romance
keeps our hearts warm.
Without fail, I realize
the truth.
If not for you,
there is no me.
All that I am
is for you,
because of you.
The years are passing by,
and we are watching
their passage.
Hand in hand,
in love.
Together forever.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
You have left me alone,
surrounded by darkness,
my heart starts pounding,
my breath quickens,
palms slick with sweat.
I am cold...so cold.
A hair falls from my head,
hitting the floor,
a booming thud.
My old grandfathers clock
calls out time,
midnight has struck
a fearful chord deep
in my soul.
In my bed
there is no warm place
for me to hide…
you are away
(only for a short time).
Please come home,
so I can sleep.
Mysterious footsteps echo
down empty hallways
of our deserted home.
I am alone…
alone with whoever
(or whatever)
lurks in the shadows.
Unreasonable fear
pervades my being,
I wait for dawn.
Waiting for light,
my mind plays tricks.
I cannot sleep,
mysterious sounds whisper
thunderclaps in my room.
Please come home,
so I can sleep.
Please….
come home.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
Dark shadows drew us in,
we hid in quiet privacy.
There was no hurry
to forge this perfect
embrace,
we would not rush
our hearts desire.
Somehow this was different.
Chaste hugs of the past
grew into
this moment.
Our feelings developed,
slowly we became
more than friends.
Finally it happened,
our first kiss,
with only the rain
serving as witness.
As the purple city surrounded us,
we gave in.
Our breath mingled,
seemingly time stood still,
and it truly was
magic.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
My painting is colored
with words.
Shapes of emotion,
caressed into pictures
of passionate love,
become my personal
Picasso.
I wear a cloak
held together by
the thinnest thread,
barely keeping me warm.
Yet I will write a fire
into my heart,
surrounding me with
life-giving heat.
My blood flows
from fingers performing
a dance, staining the page
with smooth routines,
gracefully conveying
a message of hope.
My mind spurs me on,
to achieve heights
of creativity
never before seen.
My soul is laid bare,
knowing that every word I bleed
is my very own
reality.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
I can do anything
I can do nothing
nothing is easy
nothing is hard
hard to be impulsive
hard to be encouraged
encouraged to write
encouraged to live
live to tell the story
live to dream
dream of love
dream of you
you are everything
you are my rock
rock on the ground
rock and roll
roll with the punches
roll in a circle
circle of life
circle of light
light from the sun
light from the moon
moon in the sky
moon is full
full of adventure
full of hope
hope to succeed
hope to be happy
happy with you
happy with me
me and my fears
me and my words
words that rhyme
words of passion
passion for love
passion for work
work at school
work at home
home sweet home
homeward bound
bound with chains
bound for the end
end of this blitz
end of the day
day is over
day has started
started to write
started to smile
smile
write
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
Put your hand in mine
I whispered to
my newborn son
I’ll try to keep you
safe and warm
Put your hand in mine,
together we will fight.
Let me carry you, my boy
for your feet are weary,
even though they have never
carried a load.
Lend me your hand,
dear Michael,
for once you are gone,
I will see your prints
on my heart.
Walk with me
in memory,
dear child.
For someday,
we will walk
together.
Put your hand in mine,
and bid us farewell.
Lay quiet, my baby boy
Jesus will take you
home.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
In this world that is pressed
for deadlines,
I seem to march
at my very own pace.
Sit back in comfort
my favorite café
providing a perfect setting
for creating a world
out of random words.
softly
gently
murmured voices
speak in a way
only a poet
will understand.
I will write my muse,
sharing myself with those
who care to listen.
as my hot coffee
cools down,
my thoughts turn
to the one I love.
She has never known
how enough she is,
for proper words
have always failed me.
And so I write
my words for her.
For when my time has come,
let it be said
'he finally told her,
better late than never'
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
I don't believe in fairytales
it's really not my thing,
I've never told my children tales
of dragons and of kings.
We’ve watched some shows
on the T.V
of Rubbles and the Stones,
we watched them drive around their cars
of ***** rocks and bones.
I’ve read them poems
of ancient deeds,
they rode a trojan horse.
Those bards of old
could tell a tale,
words of truth of course.
We’ve sung our songs
of buses wheels,
and Irish unicorns,
but now we hear
the beating drum
marching until morn.
I don’t believe in fairytales,
it’s really not my thing,
I will not teach them, I’m too prim
they really are quite Grimm.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
Nothing was obvious,
nobody guessed.
Oil mixing with water
was not what
anyone looked for.
We were overlooked.
What was the attraction?
We are so different.
We’ve made it work,
meeting halfway on issues
that affect us both.
Neither hesitant nor receptive,
rather a calm acceptance of
meeting in the middle.
Thus we carry on,
apples and oranges
sweet and sour.
We meet halfway,
working hard to preserve
love and passion,
dedicating today
to improving
tomorrow.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
I write my words
to paint a picture,
one of hope,
of love.
I’d awaken passion,
if only I could.
We could walk on beaches,
listen to ocean’s roar,
dedicating that moment
to the rest of our lives.
I’d dry your tears,
write your pain,
your suffering
into the depths
of the sea.
My pen draws pictures
of swirling lines,
surrounding us,
holding us close
in each other’s arms.
I pray my inkwell
never runs dry,
my quill flying across
pages of love.
I pray my words
comfort you,
warm you
and fill you
with pictures of us.
Together always.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Yellows, greens and reds
teardrops fall on resting land
the colour of life
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
A descent into darkness,
this journey is not
welcomed.
My feet skid
as if on loose gravel,
I fall, tearing my palms
on shards of rock.
I don’t want this!
I fight, my struggle
ends in tears.
My only desire
is for peace.
Serenity now,
tranquility forever.
Your love, your strength
turns my weeping
into laughter.
You alone possess ability
to guide me back
to a passion for living,
for loving.
Answers to prayer
heal those wounds,
as slowly my path
leads to new beginnings.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
Memories of yesteryear
Our long walks
On moonlit paths
Not a care in world
Save for each other
Cautiously holding hands
Approaching love
Precious reminiscence
Everyday grateful
Solitude together
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
There is no such thing
as perfect silence
in my normal existence.
In waking hours,
thoughtful cacophony
fills my head,
filtering out the sounds
that really matter.
In my sleep,
dreams shout aloud
all the wonders
I recall from
distant memory.
But I came close
once
to attaining such
silence,
such aloneness.
Strong boughs held
me up, keeping me safe
from the dangers
below.
A broken grip,
losing touch with
the support
I forgot about.
Deafening pain
roared through
my very being,
muting my desire
to listen to reason.
I heard nothing,
except for my own desire
to live
in silence.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
There is a new chill in the air,
my aging bones attest to
its bitter sting.
Dog days of summer have passed,
change is in the air.
Colors change,
moods are different.
All around us,
melancholy sets in
as we prepare for
winter’s doldrums.
Through arthritic reminders,
my body prepares to battle
this northern climate’s
failure at global warming.
Yet it’s not an end
to anything,
but rather a beginning.
Fall into winter
so we can
spring into summer.
It really is
perfect.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
I took a risk,
dipped into
a huge vat of
courage.
Admitting weakness,
hinting at illness
is not an easy
road to travel.
Some understand,
but they are few.
Most scoff, believing
nothing of the torment
a mind can go through.
Yet in the darkness
of a soul’s revolution,
there is a light
which direct’s one’s eyes
to a way of peace.
Be that what it may
for you,
I have found
my strength.
His name
is Jesus.
With him by my side
and his Spirit in
my heart
I will fight.
I will be liberated
from this dank cell
of depression.
I will rejoice.
I will be free.
I will live.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC
Murmured voices break the silence
To my right
a cute couple clink
their wine glasses together
in a celebratory toast.
Off to the left,
an older gentleman
engages an old-ish lady
in whispered conversation.
I’m guessing he’s whispering
sweet nothings to his bride.
The well dressed young man
standing at the bar
survey’s the crowd,
looking restless.
He seems to be waiting
for…
Ah, that beautiful girl
that just walked in.
Her eyes light up,
his face breaks into
a big smile.
I love the ambience
of this old place.
Red carpets,
dim lights,
candles flickering in
every direction.
My time here is
almost done.
I only need
some sugar
for this last
cup of coffee.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
I spent my day
counting blessings.
One gift of life
that my father
and mother
welcomed as me.
I know how to count,
two follows one,
but amidst much thought
I can't see three.
I'm stuck, entrenched,
mired in the glue
that holds me
where I am.
This second blessing,
the one that defines me,
is like manna from Heaven.
Two hands, holding steadfast
through ups and downs
life and death
sickness and health.
Two looks, eyes to eyes
passing an understanding
through a mere glance.
Two hearts, intertwined
to become one,
beating to a cadence
of love.
I counted my blessings
and got stuck at two.
For there it was
Me and you.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC