A-Z

ABCD
alphabetically aligned poetry

EFG
rhyming metaphorically

HIJK
the haiku is a way to play

LMNOP
to develop nature pleasantly

QRS
with this we bless

TUV
to giving meaning to me

WX
or find what's next

YZ
an ending to never see.

Dandelion

Gently touched love floating though the air like a dandelion seed.
Drawn by the soft pull of the earth but carried by tumultuous winds.
The seeds movement is wistful the driving forces are not understood.
This is our love looking for a place to take seed searching out a place.
Each kiss of breath manipulating the course away and to it's destination.
A patch of earth found for a lucky few and root is taken, most wither and die.
For these few fewer will grow a healthy stem where a flower blossom appears.
From the blossom new generations of seeds take flight again love is gently touched.

The Accountant

Sometimes I crunch the numbers
Sometimes the numbers crunch me
Deadlines, timelines always rolling forward

Between four boring walls I sit
The content of a cell in Excel
Life a predicated formula

A spreadsheet cramped with data
A mind cramped with stress
An office occupying an organized mess.

Like an information robot
I return to work to repeat the month before.
The repetitiveness an unforgiving bore.

Everything is part of an equation, calculated
None of it human the look is on a macro level
Meaning behind results of which not one gets credit

Budgeted, variances explored, a bridge to explanation
Unseen investors peer into me without knowing my soul
Self discovery wains as I read like the page of a 10K

Lack of interest may make it more difficult to be human
Not being able to reduce hours may negatively impact family life.
No time from work increase my vulnerability to the company.

I am the report.

Drunk and Disorderly

I had a hard time getting home tonight. The police pulled up to the side of the road with flashing red and blue. They asked me to walk a blurred line, stand on one foot when I had not legs and then touch my nose with eyes closed.  Chaotic instructions delivered with challenges of immense difficulty.  When I blew it was a relief until I registered a point zero two eight. The cops towed my car and impounded my soul even though I deserved worse. I hit a minivan that night with a five member family I reduced to three. Their cries are engraved in platinum on my memory.  I still focus on those faces with unanswered pleas. A week later I made bail and was charged with murder in the first degree. My lawyer plead it down to a max of two to three. They said I behaved and repented so I served six months and after a long night I went home. The family plead not to release me to a blind judicial system but I said nothing though I quietly agreed.  I want to be forgiven for that long drive home but I can't take back putting my hands on the wheel.  Now I have to hit the road.  I made a meeting with a river under a bridge tonight.

Revision time.  I agree that the first one was a little too preachy. 

I had a hard time getting home tonight. The police pulled up to the side of the road with flashing red and blue. They asked me to walk a blurred line, stand on one foot when I had not legs and then touch my nose with eyes closed.  A chaos of instruction was delivered with challenges of immense difficulty.  When I blew I registered a point zero two eight. The cops then towed my car and impounded my soul even though I deserved so much more. It was minivan I hit that night with a five member family I reduced to three. Their cries heard are engraved into platinum upon my memory. I still focus on faces with desperate pleas. After that night I got my bail and a charge of murder in the first degree. My great lawyer plead it down so I only got two to three. In my cell I behaved so well got paroled in six because of an overcrowding jail. The family plead to no avail to a blind judicial system even though I'd put them through hell. I'll always be tormented by the ride that night. So, I say to you don't drink and drive because it's not you who you need worry arriving alive. I'm meeting a river under a bridge tonight even though it won't forgive the lives taken that awful night.

Not to worry I have never killed anyone in a driving accident, knock on wood. I have a lot of disdain for drinking and driving though so I wrote this. No happy ending on this one boys and girls.

Dirty Hands

Hand sanitizer stinging bliss of cleanliness.  Infestation of bacteria fumigated by a refreshing scent. The problem is that my hands are dirty in the proverbial sense.  These hands can never be cleansed.

Raised

Tears hug my cheeks a warm embrace.
Our memories found every place.
Happy moments which I explore.
Nourished my life your at heavens door.
Please don't wait rest your head.
and wait for you children to join you
A family re-united under God's light.

Father, father, father of mine.
I cherish these final moments with you
but let your strength become mine.
Your family stands so you needn't fear.
I am raised in your image this is clear
So don't pull at your baby girls tears, let go
and I will always remember you Papa.

So I went through this just to get rid of the things I was forcing on the first draft.  

Tears hug my cheeks a warm embrace.
Our memories found every place.
Happy moments which I explore.
Cherished in life you at heavens door.
Don't stand waiting rest your head.
and wait to see me after many nights
We will take a walk again in the light.

Father, father, father of mine.
I cherish these final moments with you
but let go, and let your strength be mine.
Your family stands so you need not fear.
I'm raised in your image so depart and
don't pull to your baby girls tears
I'll always have your love in coming years.

This is tough to write.  I definitely need to get back to this and add the justice this poem deserves.

Trucker

Speckled pavement stretches out before me. 

A stream of white lines whistle by.

An awaited green sign with white lettering

Only forty-three miles until the next truck stop.

Passing headlamps obscure my vision

and I can't rub them out of my eyes.

The tire and the road growl at me.

A grating reminder I'm still moving.

I never thought I could look forward

so much to a lonely cabin.
A place so nearby and 38 miles away

but I am late so I pass it by.

There's no place or time to rest
on my rolling series of destinations

Just two-hundred eighty-seven more miles

and I will drop off this load.
Where's my coffee?
Ahhh, on down the road I go.

So the criticism I received on this was that it didn't end really well, which I kind of anticipated and that I should revise this to read in compound sentences to make the truck drives gargled thoughts flow better.  I have attempted to address both of these issues and I think I have made improvements..

Speckled pavement stretches out before me.
A stream of white lines whistle by.
An awaited green sign with white lettering
Forty-three miles until the next truck stop.
Passing headlamps obscure my vision.
I can't rub them out of my eyes.
The tire and the road growl at me.
A grating reminder I'm still moving.
I never though I could look forward
so much to a lonely cabin.
A place so nearby and 38 miles away.|
A place to rest before reaching|
a rolling series of destinations|
but I am late so I pass it by.|
Two-hundred eighty-seven miles|
and I will drop off this load.

Genius

Something stirs in all of us
A storm brews in a few of us
An input of information
An output of the mind
Through learning
creation developed
knowledge attained

Homme

He's got a loud Hawaiian shirt
Dances hard to a Creole vibe
In a Louisiana honkytonk
Living life to live not to die

Going to the fishing pond
Casting out a hook and line
Not concerned about the catch
He's just trying to unwind

Pounding hot steel at work
Everyday he sweats hard
Soon Friday will come around
But that paycheck won't go far

He's found things to cherish
A dog his child and wife
A family that is growing
The common man leading life

The third stanza felt very forced when I wrote it and some readers have commented that they felt is was forced.  This is a good thing for me to work on.  I also made a minor change to the second stanza, second line.  Please let me know if this is improved.

He's got a loud Hawaiian shirt
Dances hard to a Creole vibe
In a Louisiana honkytonk
Living life to live not to die

Going to the fishing pond
Casting out a hook on a line
Not concerned about the catch
He's just trying to unwind

Pounding hot steel at work
A man who sweats hard
Waiting for every Friday
Stretching his paycheck far

He's found thing to cherish
A dog his child and wife
A family that is growing
The common man leading life

Brume

Fog covers the ground creating a landscape of silhouettes.
A surreal world created to bring focus nearer the mind.
Beauty appears out of the abstract shapes as they are neared.
The detail emerges from the haze of a less confusing world
Light is shed upon the importance of the things nearest me.
Now thought is quieted by an archaic but revealing mist.
I attune to myself separated from the cloudy world, an irony.
For your perspective and wisdom I thank you my friend.

So there are a few very specific thing I am struggling with. I don't know whether I should be using the word "less" or "more" on the fourth line.  Also, I am not sure that the reader gets that I am referring to world without fog on the 7th line.  I am saying that the fog makes things clearer and the added visuals without the fog is what is cloudy.  I do use the duality through the poem.  I am not explaining that well but enough that you get the point.  The question: "Do I need to spell out that 7th line with more clarity?"  Please leave me some comments.

Ink Spear

    Who you can and cannot be.
    Ask Shakespeare if it was he.
    Writer of play an noble verse
    but not a man of that birth
    or was it duke or elite group
    the mind of a peasant can't produce.
    Poor circling thoughts go nowhere
    to rich in title ideas found aware  
    A sacrificial lamb the simple man
    for he is without crown in hand.
    He only the pawn of dangerous plans.
    Fortune gained and fortune lost
    Strength of mind a tarnished cost.

I have read this and definitely want to make some revisions.  It's funny whenever writing associates with writing I seem to have a lack of thoughts.

Deciduous

Soon we part for a season's breath, as your leaves spiral to the ground. Sunlight flickers through their orange and red hues, dimming and fading as they move in and out of the shade. Branches begin bare their need to slumber as foliage lays a warm blanket for the seedlings sprouting in the distant spring, the promise of new relationships beyond ours. The last invigoration of our life shared departs home as each leaf snaps from its corked stem, you tell me of the cold winter ahead. So I say to you, "Sleep gently my large friend."



So I received back some feedback regarding this poem.  It was pointed out that the first draft didn't connect until the end.  I try to address that issue above.

Leaves spiral to the ground.  Sunlight flickers through their orange and red hues dimming and fading as they move in and out of the shade.  Branches bare their need to slumber as foliage lays a warm blanket for the seedlings sprouting in the distant spring.  The last invigoration of life departs home as each leaf snaps from its corked stem.  The trees way of telling of the cold winter ahead.  So I say to you, "Sleep gently my large friend."

Instrument

The string & bow unite in harmonious friction
Dark red breath given from pale inscription.

Wind enters the hollow chambers echoing.
Glimmering brass flows silver vibrations

Sticks strike blows the pounding cries
Tanned hide still alive with screams.

The instrument, the method, the mind.

I think the cool thing about this is that it is easy to add to.  There is enough for meaning and purpose and that doesn't necessarily change or detract if I add to the poem.

Prescribe Life

               Rolling red bottle
                       take me away
       Prescribed relief of pain
                      an empty vessel  
               Temporary remedy
         The doctor's duct tape
                       Every six hours
                 
                  not a minute more
                       The addiction
                 
    led me to this new affliction
                        Now questioning the finality of this rest
                         
                        Side effects
             
 taking my own life no longer the best
                          in this fight
       my mental vitality put to test
  So I vomit time to clean up this mess.


Alright I got some criticism that the story of awakening my characters desire to want to live was not properly/fully told.  

               Rolling red bottle
                       take me away
       Prescribed relief of pain
                      an empty vessel
               Temporary remedy
         The doctor's duct tape
                       Every six hours

                  not a minute more
                       The addiction

                           New affliction
                         No full nights rest

                          Side effects

  taking my own life the best
                           in this fight
        my mental vitality put to test
  So I vomit time to clean up this mess.
The message in this poem is the thought my character has when hitting bottom, deciding not to give up.

Hit

The killer is remorseful
The predator is resourceful

Wishing breath fading life
Regret resources emotions and need
Blood wrenching, or quenching the thirst
Blunderer on one hand, business on the other
I was the blundering happenstance of fate
Now business becomes the way of my home

Thoughts now faded of the first few
Calculation fallen the rest of you

Virtual Bully

The only attention you have is from yourself.
Amused by tormenting words and nothing else.
You hide your name as an alias, going unknown.
Not facing your victims hidden in your home.
You are going online yet staying out of touch.
As the cruelty served isn't felt by you much.
You the typing ticking time bomb of pain.
If not attached to the mainframe you'd refrain.
Now see me looking into the internet's face.
I know of a chair with a coward in its place.

Alright someone asked me to write a poem about online bullying and this is my draft.  I really try to show in this that a bully only has power given.  In my last lines I take that power back.