Posts tagged ‘poem’
POEMS & FLEETING THOUGHTS: WINDOWS’ VIEW, PAST AND PRESENT
I was born and raised in Newark, New Jersey, a city not known for its beauty or soft heart. Not my choice, but it helped to form what I am. These words are meant to describe the difference between my life then and now.
After all these years I still ponder my life in Newark, and appreciate the emotions and experiences the city provided.
As I sit, advanced in age
Looking out back from my home
I see a multitude of trees
Denying the presence of neighbors,
I recall the home of my youth
And the views I saw then,
Beer factories
And the back windows
Filled with clothes lines
And hard-packed ground,
Beyond the bordering fence of wood,
More of the same.
I now pray
Not to take for granted
This present life,
And not to forget
The past.
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUGHTS
Progression
As my years gain numbers
My once youthful mind
Cannot comprehend
This change,
Ponders
The fading past
And wonders
At the future,
I sometimes feel
Like Kafka’s
Roach,
I went to sleep
At seventeen
And awoke
Nearly seventy,
Trying to grasp
The thoughts
Hopes and dreams
As they drift away,
How will time
Treat my questioning
Soul?
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUTHTS: ROCKS
My pockets
Are full,
Rocks, just as Virginia’s
Predict my destiny,
But with the drought
All is dry.
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUGHTS: OLD BOOKS
My old books,
Some two hundred years
Have little value
Except to me,
I wonder at their owners,
Readers long gone.
Gazing into a future
Unknown,
With my words
Hundreds of years gone
Cause the same ponder
Of a lover of books.
POEMS AND RANDOM THOUGTS: SNOWI wrote this poem some years ago. Every winter since, I drag it out of the right time. For those of us on the East Coast, now is the right time. This poem was inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s, The Bells. THE SNOW See the delicate snowflakes fall, Falling, falling, falling. Whitening the earth, awaiting below, Falling, falling, falling. See the mounds of glittering white, Building, building, building. As they hide the ground from sight, Building, building, building. See the ceaseless falling snow, Falling, falling, falling. Will it stop, no one quite knows, Falling, falling, falling. See the drifts accumulate, Building, building, building. My longing for spring will no longer wait, Building, building, building. SEE THE DAMNED WHITE BLANKET GROW, HIDING, HIDING, HIDING. MY CAR, MY LAWN, ALL I KNOW, HIDING, HIDING, HIDING. SEE MY MADNESS, MY URGE TO KILL, GROWING, GROWING, GROWING, CROSS MY PATH, AND I’LL DO YOU ILL, SMILING, SMILING, SMILING. I wrote this poem some years ago. Every winter since, I drag it out of the right time. For those of us on the East Coast, now is the right time. This poem was inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s, The Bells. THE SNOW See the delicate snowflakes fall, Falling, falling, falling. Whitening the earth, awaiting below, Falling, falling, falling. See the mounds of glittering white, Building, building, building. As they hide the ground from sight, Building, building, building. See the ceaseless falling snow, Falling, falling, falling. Will it stop, no one quite knows, Falling, falling, falling. See the drifts accumulate, Building, building, building. My longing for spring will no longer wait, Building, building, building. SEE THE DAMNED WHITE BLANKET GROW, HIDING, HIDING, HIDING. MY CAR, MY LAWN, ALL I KNOW, HIDING, HIDING, HIDING. SEE MY MADNESS, MY URGE TO KILL, GROWING, GROWING, GROWING, CROSS MY PATH, AND I’LL DO YOU ILL, SMILING, SMILING, SMILING.
I wrote this poem some years ago.
Every winter since, I drag it out of the right time.
For those of us on the East Coast, now is the right time.
This poem was inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s, The Bells.
THE SNOW
See the delicate snowflakes fall,
Falling, falling, falling.
Whitening the earth, awaiting below,
Falling, falling, falling.
See the mounds of glittering white,
Building, building, building.
As they hide the ground from sight,
Building, building, building.
See the ceaseless falling snow,
Falling, falling, falling.
Will it stop, no one quite knows,
Falling, falling, falling.
See the drifts accumulate,
Building, building, building.
My longing for spring will no longer wait,
Building, building, building.
SEE THE DAMNED WHITE BLANKET GROW,
HIDING, HIDING, HIDING.
MY CAR, MY LAWN, ALL I KNOW,
HIDING, HIDING, HIDING.
SEE MY MADNESS, MY URGE TO KILL,
GROWING, GROWING, GROWING,
CROSS MY PATH, AND I’LL DO YOU ILL,
SMILING, SMILING, SMILING.
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUGHTS: LIFE
What is more important?
The length of time we exist
Or what we accomplish,
Filling our coffers
With gold,
Or leaving mankind
With the value
Of our existence.
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUGHTS: DREAMS
There are times
When the sole
Reason I am awake
Is that I can
Fall asleep once again
And dream.
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUGHTS: NIGHT
Night shuts down
The normal life,
But then mine
Comes alive,
With memories
And monsters
And thoughts
Too real.
POEMS AND FLEETING THOUTHTS: SOCIAL MEDIA
In this age of social media
We recycle other’s thoughts
To bring attention
To ourselves.
WE REMEMBER
It is estimated that between 50 and 200 people jumped from the World Trade Center towers on 9/11. Marked forever in our memory will be the vision of them falling. Who can put themselves in the thought process that went into that decision and the conditions under which it was made? They did not chose death. They were murdered.
This poem is dedicated to those poor souls and all lives claimed that fateful day.
JUMPERS
They were like birds flying,
Leaping from flaming windows,
No wings to purchase air,
No hope of flying home.
They were like birds flying,
Tumbling in twos, alone,
Flashing by in a smoke-filled sky
While crowds watched in horror.
They were like birds flying
Flights, imprinting the nation’s memory.
They were like omens flying,
Carrying us into a world of fear.
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