The Long Cry
I stand
Alone
A wind at my face
Nose
Uplifted
Category / Poetry
Good Verse Survival
People bustle through crowded streets
Noise erupts from the center of chaos
Venders shout their worth
In a language known to all
Songs of the World
Vibrations rumble making echoes in my mind
Echoes turn to whispered words
One wave harsh one wave soft
The harsh wave strikes piercing to the bone
Short of Air
“Fifty five.”
“Fifty five what?”
“Fifty five seconds till the oxygen in our probe runs out.”
“How did you figure it out?”
Lost Soul
Faded like a rainbow
is her gown
Torn with sorrow
Ever changing
The City
i want that pulsing
white hot
kinetic
frenzied
pounding feet on concrete
Mama, Please
the waves
crest in my head
spilling out of my ears
as i sleep.
We Live In Unfinished Houses
Each day we wade into life.
We have plans, of course!
Things we’ll get to,
get back to.
Splitting Shakes
Each day I pass the barn we built,
twenty-five years back,
my friend and I he the craftsman,
the one who knew, who taught the city boy
Seeds of Art
It was the angel in the clouds,
the face on the tree,
the driftwood and rock
that looked like a seal, a wolf, a bear.