My Poetic Perspective

Just another WordPress.com site

Month: August, 2012

And I Wait

lately, I have paid more attention to

the way I breathe,

the beat of my heart

the way my skin feels tighter

as eyes lift up to see sharp wolf irises

in the translucent image

strange transfiguring

a flash in the sky of remembrances

things of a former life

reappear only in the back of my mind

I have lost count on days gone by

the weeks, months into years

and still a watcher from the inside

I’ve witnessed the leaves and flowers,

fall and bloom and fall again

trees stable in their ground

as its branches have grown

and I wait, for bloom of a new body

while my time of fall

lingers in

the deep reflected image

of a wolf waiting to fade

In The Glare Of A Pale Grey Sky

the pale grey sky raced passed into

the glare of the passenger side window

I don’t know any certain words in a delicate moment,

where throbbing reality pulsates in the unseen creases

of my minds membrane,

I have lost the meaning that joins us together

in obvious reigns…

distances dug deep where I have fallen far into

the crevices of denying graces

I have longed for a rescue in the still of patient days

there is no finding yet and in the sunrise where love lives

and the pale gray was once a tragedy,  I still hope

even in these in between minutes

I know it all surrenders eventually to

….forgiveness

Misunderstood

Deep

It lays

A quiet grief

and the eyes

have not seen

too well

the beaten countenance

they misunderstand

abandoning

the questions

never meeting

the answer

 

In The Clouds

Against the sun

awakening with the taste of bitter

my eyes stung

with yesterdays tears

this must be another recall

of what I forgot to forgive

the rolling clouds envelope me again

and I am here with

it’s thunder

Agony of Release

These lines

a torture against honesty

leaks in drips of difficulty

 

the pangs of reaching further beyond

my capacity

I have longed for easier days

 

if these words could surpass

the feeling, then

they could render the sunrise

as my painted hope

 

how cruel the suppression in silence

a quiet dim

how I need

the language to tell

 

and it goes, reaping the harvest of pain

each grey memory in bottles

sealed in secrecy

 

smashed

 

as vapors seep

the agony of release

 

A Gathering

How I wonder how my words will grow

They often try to gather themselves

As to complete a composition of prayer

With such careful thought to fit its expression

They lift themselves up

To the height of His ear

And with great surprise

They grow to only say

“I thank You”

The Capacity

So the thoughts have their debates

and the feelings of gray

and red

overlap in oddities and perplexing

shades

 

I recall only the branches of my brain

in few syllables if not words

that seem to make sense

on leaves in Autumn

 

So out of the bucket I grab

in the deep

and whatever does not glide and slip away

from my grasp

gets recognition on glass pages

 

Some parts of me, reflected dimly,

tell of tales as each truth

a glimpse of a full lighted sky

 

And these are the things

that are in me

 

Things of words on top of mountains

with flowers of letters grown from the earth of pain

my capacity to grow in bigger words

and deeper meanings

 

It’s a wonder of

buried

and forgotten things

 

 

Simple

I melt small letters

with the rain of my heart

unto sheets of plainness and begging

The simple language of

my world tried in the atmosphere

of worldly cruelties

I am thrown into the scary

skeptics;

their burning eyes

penetrate through…

And I wonder with a pit of bitter

who they see

Yet I know simply

the hours I live

the breath which enters and leaves

They may know a wonder

I have not known

though

I am better to be simple

in not knowing at all