Many journey’s home

My gaze upon the footing trots

over flora and pebbles of moving pots

a weep to the willow resting high on the tops,

there a mockingbird for the joy to play

songs of yesterday for tomorrow set today

and mine ears move across my eyes in dismay

ever so gently over cradled terrain.

The defiant’s end

There is no color as the color blank

turning across the open page

fluid against the coming pains

that drift as breath through golden cage,

my mind encircles points of time

like ripples staining water

licking the heels of memory

fading years the age old martyr.

The blues of darkness

There’s a hush across this night

this room is spent and stark

my thoughts are steep at best

with hints of meadow lark,

a woodsy moment of rarity

landscaping the eyes of mind

a foggy institution

far from the any kind,

my steps are forward thinking

hovering over distant sands

warming up the darkened skies

to whatever creative demands,

and sit I here to think the sighs

over moths flickering to light

waters running through many feet

as the hush fills in the night.

“M” is for…

Why wont you just let Me be

My little taunting “M”

Murderous little letter

soMetimes Meaning “theM”,

but carry on I Move the day

stirring ancient eMotions

listening to your constant play

“M” words so atrocious,

cover My ears to block you out

but you are too far in to free

so out upon the page you go

in bickering endless plea’s.

Same other day

Darling heart my unease flows

in waves and ebbs unknowing

where turbulence is common ground

and the edge of weight is growing,

to suffer is to say the least

at the countenance and purvey

rowing ever hardened grounds

the struggle day to day,

yet in my wayward obstinance

I turn to face the grave

a sigh escapes these frowning lips

at the path that I have paved.

Laden stretches

Evergreens I watch the day

your play in varied forms

colored contradictions

of many drowning storms,

though trudging on I step in footing

moving among the splash

winding roads leading to somewhere

where dawn and dusk do clash.

The battered cry

It was heard along the shoreline

chatting biting songs

revels all along the beach

succumbing to the throng,

battle on they buried blood

seeping deep within the earth

innocence had no bearing there

tainted from their birth,

regret rang out its stinging bell

but the cry was far too late

and all the feasting worms

grew at an alarming rate,

empty was the new revere

and all had it on their tongue

days of no one living

but the bitterness of the rung.