Posts filed under ‘PUBLISHED POEM’
PUBLISHED POEM
This will be my last entry for 2010. I wish all my readers a Happy New Year. May you enjoy a new year of health, prosperity and productively.
This poem was published in 1981 by New Worlds Unlimited in Images of the Mystic Truth.
As you can tell, I was not in the best of moods. It was a bad year; the year my mother died. But, if we are lucky, deep sorrow can be followed by intense joy. The following year I met my future wife, Joni. We were married in 1983.
So if your times are hard, hold on. Miracles can happen.
PHANTASY
Sickness pervades this cloistered sphere
this world he calls his own.
Mutterings leap with meanings unclear
crying a message unknown.
Shadowy thoughts revoke the day
God gave his hand, then turned away.
Come see the shell that isn’t a man,
muse at this poor wretched fool.
Look to his eyes a moment and then
Depart his mad vestibule.
PUBLISHED POEM
My reluctant and very few consistent readers,
I sincerely hope that you had a wonderful holiday season. I must tell you that we have a sunroom where I keep a live tree decorated and lit the entire year. Some of us have a hard time letting go of hope and joy.
Now to writing. They year 1980 was a banner year for my poetry published by New Worlds Unlimited; they published two poems. Here they are.
EVERGLADES JOURNEY
Propeller spins,
And engine speaks a staccato song
to water and tree,
Sawgrass streaks by
in a maze of wildlife and nature,
Animals scurry-
Alligators lift their horny heads
And lacking patience with mankind
move on.
Free-
Gliding along a filmy surface of life
where nature exists as a power
not a tool.
I lived in Florida at one time and had an opportunity to ride in an airboat. This was the result of that experience.
HOPE
Hope,
Like tiny bubbles
in the murky depths
of liquid life,
Traveling to the surface
they expand,
Realizing only too late
they have traveled too far
and burst.
Take care my friends.
PUBLISHED POEM
This effort was published in 1979 by New Worlds Unlimited in their anthology, Visions of the Enchanted Spirit.
THE WIND HOWLS
The wind howls a mournful tune,
The winter is deep and the night long,
Frost paints a lacey scene
on darkened windows
as we lay here
with only a single wavering candle
mellowing the room,
We touch, Caress
fighting off the winter chill,
Fighting off life’s hard cold,
Next to you life is summer
on this December night.
The sun grows,
A flame burns on.
We are one.
PUBLISHED POEM
Another ancient effort published by New Worlds Unlimited in 1978.
The title of the anthology, Tracings of the Valiant Soul.
A RAINDROP FALLS
A raindrop falls
its birth uncertain,
Its death
a roadside pond,
The center ripples
and long after the raindrop expires
long after its fate is done
gentle waves are felt
along the shore.
PUBLISHED POEM
My reluctant readers,
Here is another poem from my distant past. It was published by New Worlds Unlimited in an anthology entitled, Whispers of the Unchained Heart, in 1977. God, I love their titles.
Enjoy.
CITY DEATH
Gone-
Murdered by concrete
and polluted air,
Witness to city’s growth.
Yielding shade to sultry summers,
Forming crystalline sculptures in winter,
Morning droned with saws
A barren stump your marker
Death your reward.
PUBLISHED POEMS
My reluctant readers,
Another ‘blast from the past’.
Published by New Worlds Unlimited in 1976. The title of the anthology was, and still is, Reflections of the Inward Silence. They could pick good titles.
JUNKYARD
Lying amongst mud and decay
Spent heaps discarded,
Side by side the mean and misused
Elegant and cherished share the same epitaph,
Pampered and treasured rot alike
In the end measure equal,
Parts torn and corrupted,
Scavengers pick clean
That others survive.
PUBLISHED POEMS
My reluctant readers,
Here is another poem from my past. It was published by New Worlds Unlimited out of Saddle Brook, New Jersey in their anthology entitled, Shadows of the Elusive Dreams, in 1975.
I must tell you, although the urge is great, none of these poems have been altered after publication. As every writer knows, a work is never done, but you have to walk away.
PARK RESIDENT
Winding thru city parks,
Stumbling from a park-bench sleep,
In the uncertain light of dawn
He wanders;
Eyes brimmed with despair-
Blessed with yet another day
His mind recalls vague dreams,
The dreams of his youth
Gone to mist;
Less often now come dreams
Unknown to park-bench beds,
Night brings only cold,
Thoughts void of future.
PUBLISHED POEMS
My reluctant readers,
As promised, here is another published poem.
For fifteen years a small press in Saddle Brook, New Jersey selected one or two of my poems to be published in their annual anthology. This poem was the first, published in 1974 in the anthology, Echoes of the Unlocked Odyssey
The Distant Jewel
Shimmering diamonds in the distance,
Gleaming pearls on an ebony sea,
The city lies ahead
Made lovely by the night and the span of miles,
Those who know her close
Have seen her decay,
Known her avenues littered
The debris of progress
The broken spirit of man.
Distance lends to a hazy beauty,
Close inspection
Horror.
PUBLISHED POEMS
My reluctant readers,
As promised, here is the first of my ancient published poems. This piece was published in The Clover Collection of Verse, 1976.
This poem has the distinction of being the only work for which I earned money. Not here, but published in another poetry periodical, someone liked the poem and sent me a dollar. Somewhere in our attic storage area, along with over twenty years of accumulated ‘stuff’ that dollar resides. It keeps company with a mound of rejection letters.
I hope you enjoy this effort of my ‘relative youth’.
THE WHEAT FIELD REVIELED
Friendless you toiled with palette and brush,
Forlorn amidst wheat fields with only mad rush
Of flying crows to mark the day,
Crossed paths unite yet yield no safe way,
Fulfillment pursued beneath sorrowful skies
Painting with troubled soul that once cries
Out for love yet finds only torment,
Thus your life spent.
Tramping through fields of cypress and corn
With stars and suns swirled in a morn,
Hatband-held candles yield flickering light
Sustaining your soul one last starry night,
Rooks swirled in violet a soul hungers still,
Standing alone – the wheat field revielded.
Walttriznastories's Blog 