Poem
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Has the night always encroached so quickly, after the leaves have turned? Has the dark always fallen so surely after the first season’s snow? Have the days always been so short? Have hours always felt so long? Has winter always entered so suddenly? Where has the autumn gone?
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I walk down empty streets under a gray sky. A crow caws overheard- answered by its murder’s calls. The brisk east wind blasts across the lake racing toward the mountains. It pushes back my black hood, and tangles my long hair. My nose reddens with the cold’s sting. New buds grow on the bare trees,
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I walked outside and everything was grey scale. Devoid of color, devoid of time the world was neither dark nor bright, but somewhere in-between. Silver sky reflected in white snow- contrasted by the charcoal shadows and black-tar roads. There was no color. There was no sound. No children laughing, talking, shouting- They are all at
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One last, one last time. You asked me for one last, one last time. Against my better judgement I gave it to you. One last, one last time. I fell for you one last, one last time. I knew it would end- But I loved you. One last, one last time. I cried
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He’ll be home for Christmas. I haven’t seen him since the green summer at the bay. The blue seawater off the coast- And the setting sun on the Ferry Slip- a memory to last through the lonely autumn. But, he’ll be home for Christmas- To warm me again as the days grow short and cold.
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My favorite Holiday is fast approaching- THANKSGIVING! In honor of this family-gathering Holiday I thought a little family-centered poem would be in order. A family tradition Of our own making- Grandpa’s stories told at each gathering Tales of misadventure: Of a child, Marine, father, and grandpa, Delight and entertain the growing clan.
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*This is a found poem written for a school project. Every word and line is taken from Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness* That heart of darkness, Is it not frightful? The shackled form of a conquered monster; Truth stripped of its cloak of time, The truth of the “civilized man”. Angel or a fiend?
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Oh my sailor, across the sea oceans crossed from me, Where I pine and dream, But cannot be with my sailor across the sea. Oh my sailor, across the sea. Please promise you think of me as I want here, Patiently, For my sailor across the sea. Oh my sailor, across the sea,
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We talk of monsters- Of things inhumane. Unnatural, evil creatures Lurking in the dark. We talk of monsters- Of things unlike us. Twisted, unreal beasts- Part of another world. We talk of monsters- As if they aren’t real. Imagined, conceived visions- figurative illusions. We talk of monsters- But we are the monsters:
Bringing Mae Flowers 