reflect on
this
can you gaze
in the mirror where
you will find
yourself
gazing into
yourself
with
kindness
yes
you can
Viewing entries in
"poetry"
When the wind blows in from the sea you can hear
the crackle of palm fronds
breaking free from the heat
the hiss of sea oats
bowing defiantly inland
the whisper of sand
celebrating its lofty release from gravity
the sputter of foam
cascading skyward cut from wave caps
the chimes of delicate shells
dancing across dunes
When the wind blows in from the sea you can hear
the prayers of ancient mariners
reaching home
Image used by Permission
i want to say something
something beautiful and bold
a fine proclamation of intent
words dripping with overflowing meaning
writhing upon the page in into the mind
courting creative thoughts and endless primal
possibilities
i want to say something of tangible, useful
inspirational
of
weight
and
what comes out
is this
whisper
DreamMaker
Sight yields beauty
Thoughts beget ideas
Sounds stimulate awareness
But, touch, ah, now...
She is the maker of dreams!
My father died in June of 1964. He was 36. I wrote this poem in memory of him, William Earl Williams
In Memory
It should be the memory of a hammer striking the crude nail
Driving it through the rough hewn pine
Slicing grain from grain
It should be the great effort, heavy grind of stone on stone
Sliding the lid to alignment with vault
Solidly into place
Such sounds and visions would be true reminders of the drama
Moving painfully among breath and dream
Caressing wounds to scars
Yet, what remains is the dull click of metal
Latches with well insulated springs
An almost insignificant sound
As the casket closed.
In Memory
It should be the memory of a hammer striking the crude nail
Driving it through the rough hewn pine
Slicing grain from grain
It should be the great effort, heavy grind of stone on stone
Sliding the lid to alignment with vault
Solidly into place
Such sounds and visions would be true reminders of the drama
Moving painfully among breath and dream
Caressing wounds to scars
Yet, what remains is the dull click of metal
Latches with well insulated springs
An almost insignificant sound
As the casket closed.
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Such a wondrous, bellowing creature is silence.
Screaming prerecorded messages
Demands for fulfillment
of parental needs
An eccentric racket, noisy nymph
Promoting historic agendas
Commands for realizing
Ancestors' wants
Such a wondrous, noisy nymph
Is Silence
Personally, I'm inclined to hear whispers more
Screaming prerecorded messages
Demands for fulfillment
of parental needs
An eccentric racket, noisy nymph
Promoting historic agendas
Commands for realizing
Ancestors' wants
Such a wondrous, noisy nymph
Is Silence
Personally, I'm inclined to hear whispers more
Too Full
The quill rests full
Dripping onyx truths
Upon parchment
Unable to spill
Small enough droplets
To inscribe
You
Moonlight
There is a full moon
In the daylight
I see your thoughts wander
Away from me
and
It isn't even dark, yet.
There is a full moon
In the daylight
I see your thoughts wander
Away from me
and
It isn't even dark, yet.
I found myself
Humming into the mattress
With you
It was an accidental thing
An exhale that sent a slight vibration
Through the sheets
I enjoyed the sound
The sense
Of my humming
Beside you – with you
The vibrant ripples made me giggle
And roll joyfully
Leaving all tension and alarm
and there
I found myself
Humming
Into the mattress
With you.
Humming into the mattress
With you
It was an accidental thing
An exhale that sent a slight vibration
Through the sheets
I enjoyed the sound
The sense
Of my humming
Beside you – with you
The vibrant ripples made me giggle
And roll joyfully
Leaving all tension and alarm
and there
I found myself
Humming
Into the mattress
With you.