As the rain gently creeps down the window,
it becomes a metaphor of nature crying.
Can you help,
or do you ignore?
My friends, the birds, are lost,
the poor conditions made it difficult to soar.
Did you notice the terror in the trees
when you cut them down?
Maybe you didn’t care
that you cause so much fear.
If you would only take more than a glance,
you would see a refreshing hope,
but you never give us a chance
to use the environment as a means to cope.
Do you care about anyone but yourselves?
You’re not the only one to live.
You never answered our call.
Why? We never wanted you to give.
you could see a good glory.
It’s obvious you care about one thing:
your own story.
I wrote this in the mid 90’s. I can’t explain the way Henry David Thoreau’s writings expanded my mind, my thoughts. I read a soft cover collection of his works until it literally fell apart. I guess it reflects in the content.
Posted in Arts and Sciences, Creative, entertainment, General, Heartbreak, Inspiration, love, POEM, Poetry, poetry 1990's, Writing
Tagged care about more than you, existence, Heartbreak, Henry David Thoreau, idealistic, Inspiration, love, nature, POEM, Poetry, poetry 1990's, soaring birds
That night I held you in my arms, we looked
out the window and watched boats in the distance
as well as lights from other hotels and in the park
below us. We talked about our life, our child-
hoods, about our views on life. You told me about
reindeer food and I rambled on about something. I recall
sitting on that couch, occasionally glancing away from
outside spectacles to look at your crimson hair, your deep
green windows of eyes, displaying your excitement and those red
dots freckled on your cheeks, waiting for my lips to connect
each one. I would eventually kiss your tattoos,
but in that moment, I wanted to wrap you up
like a gift, hands folded over you like a big bow,
appreciating time we had with each other knowing
it was our present.
I wrote this in late 2012, a poem for someone I once loved. I have many of these to post, on several degrees of love and lust, found and lost.
Posted in Arts and Sciences, General, Heartbreak, Inspiration, love, POEM, Poetry, Poetry 2010-2020, Writing
Tagged Chicago, crimson hair, cuddle, freckles, kiss, life, love, POEM, Poetry, poetry 2010-2020's, red hair, tattoos
A single red rose,
with soft petals, smooth to touch,
grows in the grass.
The blooming flower,
intoxicating to inhale, wafts sweet scents
on a summer breeze.
The green stem
proudly stands upright, displaying
a crimson glow.
A golden dandelion, has curled
a path, wrapped around the green stem,
up to be near the rose. Long golden
limbs held firmly, yellow and red
pressed together, to the exuberant
petals of the blooming Dame De Coeur.
I wanted to remove
the intrusive dandelion
from the glowing rose
but could not do so
the integrity of the rose.
I stood up, leaving
I have been working on this one since 2012. I’m on a fifth edit, still not completely what I’m shooting for but close.
Posted in Arts and Sciences, Creative, entertainment, General, Heartbreak, Inspiration, love, POEM, Poetry, Poetry 2010-2020, Writing
Tagged bloom, dandelion, delicate, flower, flowers, Inspiration, intertwined, love, POEM, Poetry, relationships, rose
In life, we create the fire of thought. Sparks from neurons
create ideas, leading to the flames – our questions – how and why.
The answers inspire art, fun, war, and misery; all resources
In death, we create the fire of life. Our bodies deposited deep
in the ground or spread across the surface, food for the bugs
and plants that rise up, help sustain existence. We are born from fires
below the earth.
A poem I have worked on the last couple of years, 2015, I’ll probably continue to edit along the way.
Posted in Arts and Sciences, Creative, entertainment, General, POEM, Poetry, Poetry 2010-2020, Writing
Tagged concept, death, existence, fire, life, life concepts, meaning of life, POEM, Poetry, poetry 2010-2020's, renewal, thoughts
An image of you;
You and I.
Not this life, not this time.
Your beauty diffuses into a room,
doses of deadly gasses.
A few quick glances,
never a look again.
Another poem from when I was 16.
Posted in Arts and Sciences, Creative, General, POEM, Poetry, poetry 1990's, Writing
Tagged beauty, deadly gasses, Glances, POEM, Poetry, poetry 1990's, Quick Glances, you and I