Lame attempts at poetry, generally written to please myself or as a form of self-prescribed therapy.
The desert sun is hot and white, The sky an azure blue, The wind-blown sand a golden glow, The rocks a rusty hue. The rabbit brush with yellow trim, Accents the silver sage, Green piñons point up towards the sky, Grown massive with great age. The prickly pear with flowers pink, And spiny fruit a purple-red, In starving coyote's hazel eyes, Is better than sliced bread.
No sound escapes this vacant void No light leaks from its space A hiding place of perfect form Devoid of touch and taste Desperate pleas that enter there Return no echo or reply They die in silence, fade away A mute unanswered cry I never meant to make this hole Its silence burns my ears It stops the things that should come out To calm my doubts and fears How do you kill a blackened hole That feeds on all it finds To open up the inner soul And clear a troubled mind So questions voiced to God above Escape… Read the rest
Paint the trees a vibrant red, Or yellow, orange or brown, The signs of summer fade away, And fall sings all around.
Down a dark trail through deep frozen spruce, The lights peering outward bright halos produce, As we crawl over snow that squeaks under our tread, Pushing farther from home into darkness ahead, Breathing smoke as warm vapors freeze and turn white, Tiny crystals suspended in the breath of the night, Collecting on eyebrows and all sorts of hair, The heater flat failing to warm the harsh air, Our mission's a clearing far out in the wood, Some broken equipment that must be made good, So onward we press 'till the work is complete, And fend off the frostbite that threatens… Read the rest
The dreams of the present viewed in sleep long ago Bear no semblance to what I now see, Wishes fervently made with the best of intent Have passed by and never will be. Looking back through the fog of memories past I know now that the path I have trod, Seeming crookedly bent, twisting this way and that Has been mercifully guided by God. The pitfalls and dangers I couldn't observe Would have swallowed me up in their depths, So wand'ring along the strange course of my life I'm content to let Him guide my steps.
Hateful things in human thought Twisted minds this sin have brought Barking dogs pull at the chain Howling shrieks and moans of pain Mothers weep and infants cry Above the gate - ARBEIT MACHT FREI Shuffling feet of broken hearts Pause for families torn apart Wives and children stripped away Screams and cries that cannot sway One by one sent there and here For some the end is very near While others hear the orders barked For brutal labor they were marked The crack of whips and thud of fist The whimpered hope you're on the list Yet labor's toil… Read the rest
Bury me not in the cold an dark earth, Where the roots and worms churn the ground. Rather lay me to rest in the folds of your heart, Where your rarest of treasures are found.
Harry the zoo hippochondriac was a wonderful pain in the butt. The zookeepers all sat and wondered what went on there inside of his nut. He never went out to enjoy the warm sun, and never would venture to swim, play, or run. He'd moan and he'd groan then flop hard in the hay, convinced some zoo patron had bubonic plague. When spring cottonwoods bloomed and sent tufts on the breeze, he was sure that pneumonia was what made him sneeze. Once a blob of dried mud stuck behind his left ear, convinced him he'd cancer and life's ending was… Read the rest
Precise to plans I drew myself, To house my future and my past. Space for children, work, and play, Built strongly - made to last. Connected with community, Deep roots and friends abound. Invested in longevity, We'd planned to stick around. The children learned to love this place, We parents did the same. Now plans have changed, and we must go, A pawn in life's harsh game. In packing up and leaving here, I go as duty calls. With heavy heart and misty eyes, To cope where my lot falls.
Middle of nowhere, not a soul is in sight, I'm alone far from help in a terrible fright, Marooned yesterday and all through the night. Weakened and failing, dealt a heavy hard blow, Then a thumping and rumbling rattling low, Creeps through the quiet and steadily grows. Now the feet of a giant appear overhead, With a deafening roar beating down latent dread, Tells me help is at hand, and safety ahead. The jolly green giant called out to assist, Searching the morn' that frost's icy lips kissed, Pararescueman watching ensures nothing's missed. He sees me and motions to show… Read the rest
