My Novels

Saturday, December 14, 2013

A few poems

I've been reading through some of my past poetry -- and thought I'd share a few here today. I do plan to create an e-book of all my poems, which range widely over all sorts of topics.

These are a few poems about childhood abuse, addiction and survival...

Children of the Storm

You think we can be saved,
Moody, damaged and born
Of high wind in a raging storm,
Of lightning flashing in dark skies,
   Night terror and empty dreams;
   We refuse to be defined.

You say you want to understand
Who we are from moment to moment,
And you'd like to be the deep anchor
To hold swaying ships on turbulent seas.
  Others have tried, all have failed;
  We refuse to be rescued.

You want more than we can give,
More change, more growth, more of us
Than any of us have -- you ask
By the silent plea in your eyes, the kind voice
Talking about good intentions, noble causes
   To help save us
     From ourselves.

But we are all doomed children,
Born of the storm, already destroyed
  Long before you came along...
  Because we were never loved.


Under Cover
They travel by night
Where no child should be alone,
And they steal souls, trap
Unsuspecting victims in their web,
Not dead, but not alive either;
They rob children of childhood.

They travel under cover of dark,
Thieves, robbers of small worlds,
These molesters of innocent children,
Disguised as parents, family, friends,
They rob children of their spirits.

They travel in deep of midnight,
Marauding and murdering silently
In the deadly quiet of kept-secrets,
These double-dealers and deceivers,
They rob children of life.

They travel by night
And their evil, sinful vices
Turn children's faces into stone masks;
Yet many citizens who learn this truth
Turn away from the brutal
Done under cover of midnight.



You come to those in need
Like a sweet dream,
Escape is your promise;
Ignorant, they are mesmerized. 

You say you know how to prove
Your love for them,
How to create a deep, dark mystery. 

They fall deeper and deeper
Into your black wizardry,
Enchanted by wicked sorcery. 

By the time they understand you,
By the time they know your real name,
And recognize your hypnotic spell
As the destructive vice of evil...
Their alcoholic stupor
Has turned to worship of liquor...
And they have been deceived.


Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time,
There was a time, I know,
When you, father, walked in sunshine.

But those days are as gone
As wine through your mind.

Once upon a time,
There was a time, I know,
When you dreamed dreams
Of being a successful guitarist.

But those days are as lost
As whiskey down your throat.

Once upon a time,
There was a time, I know,
When you were kind,
And loved your children,
Before drink spoiled your affections.

But those days are as past
As your liquor-induced madness.

Once upon a time,
There was a time, I know,
But those times died with you
Souring those golden days
When you once loved us...
Leaving us poisoned
By your violent outbursts,
And your anger-glazed eyes
That left us wondering why?



Life beyond the open door,
They bow before your design;
But the waltz slows,
And slowly, slowly it stops.

They can't see the horizon
Because their vision dims,
And their eyes go blind. 

They reach for a slim hope to cope
But time stands silently still,
In the bleak pall of nothingness
Where their fragile hold on reality
Slips farther and farther away...
Where only that one narcotic rush,
That dangerous jolt of a needle prick
Brings the hit of speed they need
So they can revive, live and breathe. 

You see, straight friend,
Time only moves, only flies...
When they are speeding on deadly wheels,
Riding high a rushing cycle of crack...
That spins out of control into the graveyard. 


And one last poem that seems to echo my recent fiction reading about post-apocalyptic earth...


There will be ashes over us all
In time's burnt-out sun
When all we humans have done
Becomes meaningless, useless.

There will be no shadows
Of our human loss,
An earth barren as dust,
And none of us will matter
For time will be done, gone,
The trivial quest of humanity
A joke, a jest, an eccentricity
And our ignorant arrogance
That life was somehow important
Will have ended in nothingness.


Rainy, dreary day today. The usual here -- reading, writing, and house-cleaning while herding my cats & dogs! 

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