The Woe I Know

Brain is dead

heart is bled

heavy chest

interrupted breaths

grave moments

crashing sobs

temples throb

bodily torture

wax-paper wipes

comfortless needs

paintbrush umbrella

wrestling pillows

writhing limbs

screams inside

loud as red

hands tick and tremor

long and never

pitiful depths

of mire.

Gasping breaths

morose prose

muffled in suffocation

lingers in lobes

furious white flashes

deep in green monster caverns

incinerating ideas chanting

noxious notes swim

in flooded leaden sorrow

                                                             evaporated into tomorrow.

Painting Oil on canvas by Belmiro de Almeida 1858-1935[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Red Sea

This poem requires a brief introduction. Growing up you could always find in my possession at least one book I was reading and a poetry journal. At my grandparents insistence when I was 13 the following poem was submitted to the National Library of Poetry where it was published in an anthology entitled "In a Different Light".

Red Sea 

A red sea, a red rose

A painted sky

I have to keep asking myself

Why

A blue bird, a blue glass

Tear drops fall on a little girls pillow

Standing in a barren field with one lone willow

Colors of a rainbow, together they run

On an empty street a man stands with a gun

He is a lost soul in a crowded city

People can only say "what a pity"

A little girl cries for help, blood runs from her wrists

She is another number on a long, long list

Kiss a forgotten person, open your eyes

We don't need anymore lies

Within ourselves there is a war

Break free and let your spirit soar.

Image By Paolo Neo [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.