#willows
I've seen her hunched over the river,
i knew she held the waters back,
never alone, but always single,
i've seen her hunching on the bank.
I've seen her fingers - fragile, thin,
reach down towards the mirror she
had cried over her many tears,
i've seen her fingers move in key
with all the loneliness she bore.
I knew she nested many wings,
and was allured by scales untouched,
but in this neitherness of worlds
she stood alone. I've seen her hunched.
Oct 29, 2025
Oct 29, 2025 at 7:34 AM UTC
I water myself daily, play my heartstrings like a ukulele
the music makes me smile, my art child
I can no longer blame me, for the times you were shady
cannot stay hostile, the negativity is vile
I move on and I move in, to my new skin
I got into my groove and I let myself in
to the world of violins that play for my smirk
I was ****** hurt, and overworked
but now as I rest in my throne of pillows
I realize true peace as I watch the wind bend the willows
Jan 16, 2022
Jan 16, 2022 at 12:44 PM UTC
owls in willow trees
saddest of images to me
owls in willow trees
softened broken limbs in me
owls in willow trees
let mossy scars all over me
owls in willow trees
night windows time in me
owls in willow trees
now have nothing to do with me
owls in willow trees
where I have been arrives in me
owls in willow trees
more than many of each of me
owls in willow trees
past beyond memory me
owls in willow trees
now there is enough of me
Mar 18, 2021
Mar 18, 2021 at 9:47 AM UTC
Picking, lacy clouds from April skies
to make a bouquet of wildflowers,
I get tired of leaning and think of was
Disappointed,
since when did I decide to
hide myself behind insincerity?
Made, my wish come true
by writing one more poem on
dull riots of burning willows
Distraught,
twice-born within
seven days of this in a hotel
of days like a passing shadow
Pitied, myself for being so
for having such a weak
and childish heart
Humm, in the marketplace
I patiently pick out the perfect
moments from a basket of kiwis
Surprised, by ten years roamed
of letting days go idly by
while I stay perfectly still
Faithless,
compiling my work
of brushing grass and prose,
not caring anymore about fame
Mindless, my shutter snaps
another beautiful day that’s mine
and I quickly pin it on my wall
Wending,
without a word,
I fall from April skies
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 8:18 PM UTC
Shut your eyes and go
to sleep listening to the
gnarled willows weep.
Kisses on the forehead
goodnight to ensure you
are tucked in just right.
I will sing you a gentle
lullaby as the birds fly
off into the jet black sky.
The moon is laying low
for you to use as a night
light in case you are to
get a nightmare and feel
a distressing kind of fear.
But do not be scared of
what lurks and loiters in
the shadows of your soul
for I will hold your hand
and tame those demons
to a dominant demand.
The hold they have had
for quite some time is
now reaching the end
of its disintegrated line.
I can see your cold smile
defrosting in the sun now
as the willows shake off
the winter snow and you
capture some of the new
season’s glow inside of
your wholesome soul.
So my beloved friend,
shut your eyes and sleep
listening to the willows
weep as now this peace
is finally yours to keep!
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
Over the mountains you may find
The wind blowing clouds over the sky
Lovely flowers blooming
Under the mountains looming
The wind will sigh
Making the trees wave
The reeds will cry
Their joyful tune
The daffodils will dance
In the bright light of noon
And the willows will shake
With every breath the wind takes
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
Knowing my head’s telling me lies
But my throat hurts as it swallows
Thoughts buzzing ‘round like fireflies
While underneath the willows
From the rising of the sun
To the sunset during summer
It’s hard to forget someone
That gave you so much to remember
Cannot sleep in this empty bed
Unsure if I’m gonna cope
Many colorful shapes in my head
Like an everlasting kaleidoscope
Again seeing you in my cavity
When you wrote an address that night
That wasn’t just a dream to me
I’m gonna hyperventilate
Figuring out what happened to you
Why our talks ended so sudden
Still wanting to find the truth
Two years with completely nothing
It’s easier to move on I know
But you have to understand
Everyone said to just let go
I guess I was a one-man band
I remember when I saw her face
When I heard her say my name
She wasn’t just another grace
I felt her make me sane
Delusion they call it, sensing their hate
I know I saw you in every dream
Hope doesn’t have an expiry date
But silence is the loudest scream
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 4:35 AM UTC
There I was, tired and all, basking under a willow tree. Nothing much, just reading a book, reading aloud once in a while… Birds chirping, river, still flowing, the sun, still shining. The light of the sun peeks through the leaves of the willow trees, playing a game of hide and seek.The willows swaying by and by, just going with its own river of life, still flowing. Just swaying to the rhythm of the wind. The willows, their leaves, they look like raindrops, hanging down from the tree. Just so beautiful, those willows, , so free and peaceful, covering over me as i sleep….
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 6:31 AM UTC
Destiny sans mine family of origin domicile
locked in a full nelson,
and...eventually wrestled
to the ground as pile of jagged rubble!
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Synonymous with fragile hulk
(pitted against backhoe and wrecking ball)
incredibly resilient,
when incessantly whip lashed
until unanchored off mooring
thence, her frail exterior (rabidly
chomped via humungous steely toothed jaws)
bowed, teetered and collapsed
stern weight accosted, beckoned, and caved,
spot on dead reckoning,
non bash full machination yen
suffering being most weather beaten
since about nineteen ten
embodying painstaking craftsmanship
from way back when,
effort to build an enduring domicile
ruled as blueprint for a den
not necessarily of thieves,
but extra ordinary ship shape,
rich n hard folks (The Leipers)
fancying innovative
Hercules hue men, and women
who wrought their family genealogy
via quilted pen
predecessors of Barbie and their ken
Erected by strong strapping young men.
Since February 28th 1968
mighty noble domain occupied
by thine now octogenarian widower father
echoing with ghosts,
who formerly inhabited 324 Level Road
(plus spirit of deceased mother),
a plethora of past occupants came to life
when’re he visited berth of his lady friend
who lives in the langhorne area
haggled with Gambone builders
to pocket a *** of cash
resigned immeasurable
blood, sweat and tears all for naught,
nor without Miley Cyrus astride
the demolition destroyer
which hundred year old mansion
once a stately summer resort
(to the upscale who owned
the Bell & Clapper),
a respectable haven for well to do Philadelphians
whar English ivy obscured visible slated patio
upon said pseudo pier viewer proffered view
where lily padded fishpond aqua culture bounded
(where froggy went a court'n
hopping tubby a prince) below decks
which once renown estate
accrued facade as mere dark shadow
sitting like a charade along,
the outer limits of the twilight zone
casting shadowy silhouettes,
sans lovely bones the edge of night
versus former vestige of former radiant glory
prompted this prodigal son to be somber and brood
perchance never to set my eyes, whereat
no artisan gentrified abode of vested gentry
thus, debilitating, hunkering,
and landing plain trampled
so much uniqueness expended viz zit by the hands
of thine extraordinarily dexterous
hands of me papa,
who spent immeasurable energy
and countless precious blocks of time
to gentrify, mend and rescue
from natural degradation
(whence thee bell tolled the hour
maws gouged gored a gaping hole
from this fixer upper,
the entire complex edifice
Like fate of humpty Dumpty
did crumble and fall
vis a vis, our own Roman version
Thence, my father removed a sign
passersby (whether on foot or via auto de fe),
would never know, nor glance to read
historical indication, viz the original occupants
i.e. captain Leiper, and listed in registry
steered his shipshape tract titled "Glen Elm",
a vast vibrant 100 + green acres
before dilapidated home
listlessly lumbered ponderously
with nary hub buyer shaking hands at acceptable price
thus, the sad outcome as indicated above
mine dada did agreed
on a deal with contractor
who bought scrappy spit of land
Acres bandied crumbs
dealt enough finances "bread"
hence (as explained)
by the end of November 2012
demolition crews
bull dozed childhood crucible
of memories without fail.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 1:50 AM UTC
On quiet afternoons
When soft winds blow
When grass covers tombs
And delicate buds grow
When drooping branches shade
And birds make nest
Before sun's rays fade
And drowsy children rest
When long days close
And innocent babies sleep
Only one who's vigilant knows
When old willows weep
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
the acid green numbersof the digital clock surge
flickering indefinitely against their black-board canvas
Symbols in a constant flow of rotation, here where our circadian rhythm dances,
stepping forward gently into the grace of each hour
You taught me to move my feet,
I passively glide to her lead
as she guides my hand
tilts up my chin with the night of her finger tips
into the sea of the sky my moss marble eyes sink
clinging to the vast, black, uncertainty of it all
a weight off my shoulders,
now chained to my ankles
no better than a corpse, within the hold of gravity’s grasp
flooded airways
who had just met an unknowing last breath
which had escaped silently into the innocence of reflective bubbles.
And if still waters run deep,
is it wrong to tread them blindly? Shattered as the seashells scattered across the frantic ocean floor
is the state of the sanctuary
that I used to know as my mind.
Cement side walks still cracking in encounter with life’s forces
sentenced by it’s own inflexibility.
But with the willows i’ll bend,
swaying silently with the sureness of the traveling breeze
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Where are you?
Are you here, hidden away behind
the blossoms? Are the petals kissing
you now? Are the vines sheltering
you from the world and every cruelty
in it? Are the branches giving way to
your loveliness, burdened by a light
heart, a heavy soul? Are the sun’s rays
adorning you, never giving your eyelids
blessed shadows? Will I find you,
amongst the willows?
No, I do not.
I see you sitting right here
next to me,
your cheek on my shoulder.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 9:22 PM UTC
forgetting you? cannot do it with a sober mind.
I'd rather fall into a drug induced coma than try to forget you with all my pieces intact, my mind intact, my heart in place.
I want to feel forgetting as a cathartic emotion than a numbing aid.
I don't want to feel you. I feel you through the nothingness and it is overwhelming.
weeping willows weeping willows. weeping in the rain the wind carrying the weeping willows as they sing. my heart weeping for you. my willow you.
drug induced coma; forgetting her ; without the nothingness..
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
Beware the broken willow.
For its vines doth sweep,
Over empty space.
Between thee.
It sways,
Silently creaking,
On it's woolen bark.
Methinks it to attack,
Become alive.
As my dragon at my side.
With a puff of smoke,
Jerusalem see's the marks,
This willow hath endured.
During the war..
Beware the Weeping willow,
for it's tears can drown.
Can drown out the sweetest sound..
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
Our love can not exist.
Echo's final plight.
Ero's arrow askew.
Come find me beyond the
clouds.
I'll wait among the whispering
veils,
among the weeping
willows.
i wait for you at the breaking of
dawn.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
I. Warning
A boundary of warning issued premature
to a lad settled on adventure
will plant definition in a red
corruption code of ketchup on a
post-picnic bib orphaned to the wind
like a fictional friend's home continent's flag
The vision-fielding velocity of neighbours'
arrows augment the sleep-shearing flares
of the father's eyes in the centrifugal
bullseye of his boy's current-green nursery
so close to swelling wide as a planet
now a marble left behind in favour of
a shrunken moon's spheric promise
of an otherworldly adventure
II. Island
Subservient to boundaries of none but its own
the loner of landmass nurses its nautical mischief
through the employment of sensual labour in darkness
sizing them up to encompass a knowing glow
for the enigmas of bare-faced daylight
The premature thirst for adventure
attended to by the drink of sanctuary
poured from the skew of its welcome-mat shore
III. Neighbours
Game and Disappearance serve
the Monarchy of Volume under code names
of Hide and Seek undertaking missions in the name
of circumstantial viceroys: decibels
scanning search parties through the x-ray of silent night
for the orchestration of the morn
Tweeting birds equate an army horn
rainbowing the insurgent black sky
with adventures in crusade-recital grooming
An airy beach of reeds is looming
in the coastal fog bracing to embrace
the route taken on the faith of melodic compass
IV. Discovery
No labourer of mortal being beats the sun
out of bed not even the little one
succumbed to slumber in the bony shadow
of the instrumentally inscrutable contestant
to the claim of composition by his
solar brother's sacred nursery rhyme
insuring the rest and energetic rise of time
This adventure-hearted child heard no battle cry
in what the rivals of his bearded babysitter
dubbed The Sound Of Panic
just the anthem of a little conqueror beneath
a bucky smile of approval on the heels
of a swim befitting of an older lad but not
the aura of exhaustion conquering
the eyes of a goal imagined and achieved
and the smiling gratitude duet in return
from the dutiful and loving neighbours
lulled to their reunion reed field
in anticipation of a father's target met
with a son's accuracy in tow
11 26 11
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC