Save your grief for what counts.
She Got Jokes
He Laughs, She laughs . . . .
A poem to all our missed opportunities.
Captivating & thought provoking
This poem was written to all the missed opportunities, to all the screw ups we’ve ever made, and all the regret pilled up within each of us. Enjoy.
Regret
Silent raindrops fall
in the death of night
lit by a single, dying flame
who weeps.
Her existence is ignored
as the years grind down
hitting cold, cold earth
those failing eyes look around
Through the silent faces
of opportunities long past
across hidden doors
and hallowed paths
Where long chapters of life
weren’t left to decay
and lovers still live
past the grave of old photos.
And so she screams, she rages!
but her cries are unheard,
her torment unnoticed,
sadness unseen.
For in the death of night
the dying flame
still weeps.
A.C.
Sick
You made it sickening enough, congrats.
stuffy nose, teary eyes
and I can hardly breathe
breathing through my mouth
between gritted teeth
I can’t think straight
I’m not feeling right
got to get some rest
and write a good poem, despite
my throat hurts
feeling under the weather
some other kind of sickness
is bound to come up altogether
have to wrap this up
and get a good rest
hopefully tomorrow,
I’ll be at my best
River of Life
Welcome back to you glorious past
Poetry, once a part of my daily life and shared closely with my grandmother, has been an unknown pleasure for years now. It emerged unbidden and quite naturally one day, while engaged in an activity as part of a fellowship I attended on Leadership for Social Change ( www.iLEAP.org). We created a poster using a picture of ourselves, to express who we are, what we do, what is important to us, what our challenges are, what keeps us going and what the world that we want looks like. What emerged for me was some art work, and what flowed was a bit of poetry shared below.
RIVER OF LIFE
From invisible sources we spring,
and Leap into the unknown;
Fed by rivulets
of great watersheds,
On and on we flow
along the maps of our lives.
Lamps, like milestones, appear;
Lit by others, by ourselves,
The oil and wicks courtesy the…
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I Am From
Different and so wonderfully so
Quite the lesson
Esoteric
Cagey but yet so telling
Ripples of anticipation
smothered as bottom lip bit
this blush struggles to be contained-
these fingers yearn to explore,
enticing metamorphosis from sleep.
To seep uncharted crevasses,
listen to the inhale, and exhale in wonder
much like a child- learning its mothers heartbeat
from the inside.
Finding anew the patterns on your flesh
tattooed in emotion beneath my breath.
Heady, and lost in innocence
I see in you, what was once abundant
within us all.
I am intoxicated,
so drunk I can only watch,
the rise and fall
of a dreamers sleep.
I Came to Remain – Poem
Sound in my head.
One Night In January
Powerfully candid
