Let them say what needs be said.
My rails are built, all ties, all spokes
Each mile laid into further dread
driving forward, the path still smokes
Were I to wander through the night
Felt freedom loose in moon-lit air
that I could ever choose my sight
Locked ever forward my face shall bare.
When even back is forward still
progress made, my load to carry
Up, up, up some broken hill
my back is bowed, broke if I tarry.
Longing for release of weight
decoupling, sweet relief, no!
Journeys end a lie, more freight,
backwards moving, forward go.
Burdens I have never sought
Assigned to me by those long gone
Scars upon my bared face wrought
With knives so cruel and ever long.
That I could drop such bounty
Move e’er forward without shame
towards the glory of Libertas’ county
birth-right held by those named same
That my time could be discordant
filled with terrors, tortured soul
twisted to and fro, abhorrent
my life to live, each day a toll.
My rails are set, my path is clear
to heave and struggle without cry
lest those that frolic face any fear.
My burden silent, until I die.
Little do I think about
The tiny hopes that daily sprout
Leafy bundles, full of promise
Tended dearly, work that’s honest.
‘Tis not the soulful sustenance
That daunts my daily consciousness
The sewing is but half the battle
For of my troubles, do poorly straddle
‘Tis not in growing seeds of hope
That I fear the worker’s yoke
Would that I could bring great harvest
Easily to others farthest.
The saddest of my tales all
Is the feast I’ll surely call
To table filled to overflowing
With seated place, my eyes lone knowing.
Upon a long and rocky shore
I looked out screamed ‘at last no more’
A frail and broken cry that grew
Into the sea which never knew
The pain that welled within my heart
Cold and strange, through unknown part
The sea so blue, so fresh and true
Couldn’t listen to the words I threw
Gentle roaring, surf sublime
My voice catching, salted brine
Ne’er to reach another ear
Though I’m shouting very near
Sea so blue, so brown, so green,
Windows but no truth to glean
Washing forward like a tide
But my truth it won’t abide
Though I long to join the sea
My belonging there shall never be.
For more of my poems click here.
Ponderous, as large as stones.
Fills your hearth, your heart, your homes.
Beaten earth, and pattered hail.
Northern wind, bring winter’s mail.
Winding through the wirey roads.
Hollowed, loose, with crimson loads.
Embers whisper, fighting chill.
Darkness growing, lurking still.
E’er the meat falls from the bone.
stripped and lifeless, steel not hone.
Lilting gently, towards slumber
Fire crackles, without lumber.
E’er the meat falls from the bone
Gripped too strong, always on loan.
Flavors swirling, catching, changing
Experiences developing, immutable yet ranging
Dry eyes, full of scorn
Tears drip, newly borne
Bittersweet is the wine of life
poured carelessly, barely tasted
lovingly bottled, preserved, and rife
Enjoyed, hated, protected, wasted
Decanter open, smells unleashed
proudly displayed, ashamedly fleeced
bad vintage, bad year, faultless, fear
tended, cared, loved so near.