Land South of Somewhere

eclipse

 

High in the turret perched

overlooking the

Land South of Somewhere

morning brushes her face

as she peers through the misty veil

that lays over the tree shrouded mountains

she wonders about her fate

she wonders about his too

she knows they shall never speak again

for one another to hear

it was a moment

just a quick inhale

in a length of time

called a life

that living it meant only those moments

now memories left carved deep into hearts

that are woven into souls

in this land of slow drawn speech

she came quietly to seek

the reprieve she needed to heal

that she might move on

knowing memories of him

are forever carried deep

The

Land South of Somewhere

marks painful time in drops of life blood

til the sunsets after the rain

wash away some of the immediate pain

that once again she might breathe

at the least to walk down over the next hill

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the wounded tree

tree-fall-leaves-october-6-2012-001-tree

 

The electric energy from the clouds was not what killed my soul

 

Twas the sword of man with much noise as he sawed me through

 

My heart cried out with great sadness

The birds swirled round in circles tending my wake

The ground heaved with the collective heartache

The child sat silently under my withering branches

 

We all knew wounds that were far too deep

 

When the ignorant destruction of man 

weilded ungraceful yet tragic gashes

caring only for his insignificant wins

 

Shall that my roots buried deep yet green

Arise from the nurturing earth once again

When this fine land is rid

Of the treachery and narcissism

of man

 

 

on the road to perdition

life as short as it is

hands out a long dusty road

for some

of which I happen to be one

I may have hit overload on my

 how-much-I-can-handle meter

yet the journey

cuts me no slack nor has my back

seems when all dayum you

you are stuck traveling the path

all alone

with no real home to land in

these days people do not take in

orphans

instead

they set them

on the way to

perdition

I can not stop my compassion

nor the flow of volumes of empathy

simply becuz everyone hates me

on this road to perdition

which by the way

is where you not only set me

and left me

but lest you forget

you met me

does that not say something

about you

altho I wish for you only

the moon

a poet’s desperation

This is the post excerpt.

At that moment that words slip away from the soul connected to the heart
to lay down upon a visualized surface
the desperation begins for the poet
who dares not envision
being read.

The poet cannot help itself
as the creations ooze from
the depths of a universe
where no chaos was refused
and parallelism existed
with no nods from acceptance
simply fluid energy unending.